#technically you can see it on the pictures but you gotta zoom in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years ago

Text

Pressing Issues

*Dick Grayson x Reader

*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.

*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.

Tip Jar

**********

When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”

“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.

“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.

“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.

“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.

“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”

“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.

“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”

“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”

“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”

“What?”

“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.

“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”

“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”

“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.

“Care to elaborate?”

“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”

“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.

“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.

**********

Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.

“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.

“You got a visitor.”

“God, don’t tell me…”

“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”

“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.

“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.

“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.

“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”

“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.

“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”

“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.

“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”

“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.

“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.

**********

Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.

He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.

Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now.

And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.

“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”

After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”

“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”

“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”

“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”

“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”

“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”

“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Okay, good talk then.”

**********

Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.

Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.

He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.

“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.

“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.

“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face.

“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”

“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”

“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”

“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”

“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.

When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.

**********

Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?

He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.

Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.

Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.

Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.

You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”

“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”

That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”

Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.

“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions.

You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”

“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”

“What do you want?”

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”

“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?

“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”

You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”

He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.

“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”

“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”

“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”

“You’re the one who kissed me!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.

**********

Dress Inspiration

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing imagine #dc imagine #reader insert

117 notes · View notes

1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

Text

👱🏻‍♀️Thurs 12 Nov ‘20🎸

Niall and Ashe’s performance on yesterday’s Late Late Show was, of course, gorgeous! No other songs, unfortunately, but the interview did give Niall a chance to run through all of his RAH talking points again, as well as describing the odd circumstances that had brought him and Ashe together. Ashe said they instantly felt like old friends, and then they compared the situation to a reality dating show, cue awkward chuckling all around. Oddly enough, I almost think they had more chemistry through zoom than they do irl, sigh. Guess it's all right we can’t all meet our online friends: sometimes distance truly does make the heart grow fonder! In what could perhaps be called the end of the HBW era, Niall has changed his twitter layout to pictures of himself during the RAH show. The question now becomes: is this just the end of an era, or the beginning of a new one as well? He's been clear that NH3 won't happen until the circumstances of the world change (change back?) so what would that mean? Anne-Marie, who was working with him earlier this month, said that they wrote three “brilliant” songs in the studio that day (she was like “wow, you’re actually talented” when Niall began showing off his instrumental prowess). Niall + blond female collaborator/promo tour BFF has proved to be a winning formula many times over now, perhaps we can mark time in these uncertain months by how many of these collabs we see from Niall! He is also donating a signed guitar to Wishio (an app that connects celebrities with causes) to raise more money for We Need Crew. I wonder if this guitar will sell for more or less than the $28k Harry's did, do you think, and will this one actually sell to a fan? Whatever it goes for will just be the icing on top of the over ￡2 million the RAH show ended up bringing in for the cause.

Speaking of $28k guitars and the people who signed them, we learned a bit more about H’s project with Gucci: it’s a seven episode mini-series that follows the character of Silvia (presumably Not Harry) through her ��eccentric morning routine” in her home in Rome before “the arrival of an unexpected visitor”, who seems to work some kind of magic, and her day becomes a surrealist experience in a Gucci-filled reality. The titles of some of these episodes are “The Theatre”, “In the Cafe” and “The Neighbours”, none of which sound very COVID-friendly to me, but at least there is one called “At Home”. The series, which will be streamed online from the 16th to the 22nd (which, holy shit, that’s next week, how are we not still in July?), and is called “Ouverture of Something That Never Ended”, which would be a stunning alternative title to Fine Line, tbh. It is unclear which exact episodes Harry will appear in, or who will be playing the part of Silvia, but I have created a Gucci account to receive regular updates on this thing (the things I do…) so you will all know when I do! Harry has also been nominated for, uh, EVERY category of J-14′s 2020 Teen Icon Awards, Niall is in almost as many, and Liam and Louis and Zayn are each in one. Gotta say, I think J-14 is a bit obsessed. It’s okay, love, we’ve all been there.

Abby Roberts, the Spooky Makeup Queen, put up a ‘Day in the Life’ video on YouTube with some fun bloopers and behind the scenes from the LP show, which means we got to relive the moment where Liam admitted that Louis dared him to pull Harry’s pants down, and the Tik Tok live, which broke several times, because it’s not a 1D event without the full array of technical difficulties. Liam continued his celebration of the armed forces today with a one on one golfing outing with ex special forces/current TV personality Jason Carl Fox. The picture is of them standing around, and WHOA Liam’s beard is REALLY growing (uh, pun not intended, but please feel free to take it that way). Is this a picture evidence of a flagrant disregard for the UK’s lockdown? Uh, it appears to be, yes, but I’m happy to see Liam happy, at any rate. And, in true supportive Liam fashion, Liam sent out an email reminding people that Tom Felton will be doing a Veeps “19 years later” watch-along at 12 PT, ft. Willow, Tom’s dog. Liam asks us, “I’ll be watching along, will you?”

#niall horan #harry styles #liam payne #and zouis is MIA #i mean technically H is too but y'all know what i mean #also i want to clarify something really quickly re: the Ticketmaster thing from yesterday #the part that i was uncomfortable with was not the 'mandatory vaccine' bit #though i would love the reassurance that the vaccine is safe and has gone through the rigorous and necessary trials #before they are distributed #BUT i understand the need for a mandatory vaccine #I even understand the need for a national record of who has been vaccinated and who has not #but what i am DEFINITELY uncomfortable with is that my medical records would/could be given to a third party private for profit corporation #and then to Ticketmaster which is ANOTHER private for profit corporation #that just seems like it could cause a massive problem if someone were to say...hack the system #and steal the data #and think of the data mining!#it just all seems like it hasnt been thought out with consumer privacy in mind #BUT i am very very very pro-vax #vaccinate urself vaccinate ur kids please and thank you #anyways!#song of the day!#So It Goes by Billy Joel #which is a reference to Slaughterhouse Five which I really really love!!#but also the song is sad and sweet and i knew it complete etc.

133 notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Scarefest - Topper Thornton

Request: Can I request a topper imagine where he overhears the reader talking about doing Halloween festivities but the pogues don’t want to do anything so he offers to take her 🥺🥺🥺like a pumpkin patch or a CARNVIAL OMG with haunted houses I love Halloween lmao

Autumn in the OBX | Outer Banks Masterlist

_ ⭐︎*.・✶ ☾ ◦*.⭐︎_

Topper came out of the gym in the country club, Kelce heading straight for the lockers to grab a shower, and stopped when he saw you down the hall at the smoothie bar, talking to the woman behind the counter. You had a uniform in the way of a pair of khaki colored pants and polo tee with the club insignia on it.

“You coming man?” Kelce called from the door to the locker rooms.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just grabbing a water.” He replied, “drank all of mine.”

“Whatever, but I’m not waiting around while you take five years to fix your hair.” Kelce joked, disappearing around the door before Topper could form any kind of comeback.

With him gone, Topper headed to the smoothie bar. He had seen you over the weekend at a party with your friends and he’d overheard you talking about Scarefest, something that none of your friends seemed even the slightest bit interested in. But overhearing it was like a godsend to Topper, he’d been trying to figure out how to ask you out without you completely shooting him down and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Not to mention, there were none of your pogue friends insight today, “Hey.” 

You looked up from your phone, surprised at the sight before you. “Uh, hey, Topper. Did you need something?”

While Rafe loved to make you run around the club on dumb errands for him, or send his food back a million times just so you could get in trouble, Topper seemed far more willing to just ignore your existence when you were there.

“No nothing, I was just...heard you mention like heading up to the farm this weekend for scarefest.” He said.

“I did mention it...to my friends.” You replied, emphasizing the word as a way to remind him that he was, definitely not, one of your friends. Besides, that had been Friday, at the boneyard, and it was Tuesday now. “Why?”

“I was just thinking if you still wanted to go, we could go together.” Topper suggested, leaning against the counter of the smoothie bar in a way that he hoped both made him look cool and showed off his arms. When you frowned and raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, he was tempted to turn right around and head back toward the gym. “What?”

“Nothing. I just...are you asking me on a date Topper? Am I being asked on a date by a kook?” You teased, “Are you Freddie Prinze Jr and I’m Rachel Leigh Cook?”

Topper rolled his eyes at the stupid movie reference. He’d been crushing on you for a while now, a couple weeks after he and Sarah broke up if he was actually trying to put down a timeline, but sometimes he couldn’t decide exactly why. “Do you wanna go or not?”

“I do. I just have one question...”

“I swear to god...” He warned, already knowing what you were going to say.

You raised your voice enough as you spoke to draw the attention of some members of the club that were in the lobby area of the gym, doing your best to act as dramatic as possible, “am I a bet? Am I fucking bet?”

“Shut up,” Topper pressed his hand over your mouth, looking around the room apologetically. He could just hear his mom later, telling him how someone at the club had seen him with some girl making a commotion, “you are the loudest person I have ever met.” 

“Louder than that god awful green shirt Rafe works out in?” You said once Topper moved his hand off your mouth.

“Yeah, louder than that.” 

“Pick me up at 5 okay, I don’t wanna get stuck waiting for the ferry.” You said, agreeing to the date that he was asking you out on. You had heard plenty of shit about Topper simply because he was a kook but you didn’t really know him and you had to admit you kinda wanted to. He was definitely cute even if he wasn’t your usual type. “Will your jeep drive in the cut or does it come to a screeching halt when it senses pogues?” 

“You’re really fucking annoying.” Topper muttered.

“You’re the one who asked me on a date.” You pointed out, taking a water bottle from behind the counter.

“And what...you wanna see if you can get me to change my mind?” He joked.

A voice came over the walkie that was attached to your hip, asking for your help down in the restaurant area and you radioed back that you would be right there. “Well, duty calls, I’ll see you on Friday.” 

Topper showed up on Friday at 5p, just when he said he would, and your mom stood at the front window yelling to you in your bedroom about ‘who were you going out with’ and ‘how does a kid afford that kind of car’. You ignored all of her questions in favor of running out the door and getting in the car as soon as possible.

“Have you done scarefest before?” You asked as you walked through the gates of the farm with him. It was still light out, too early for the haunted house or the hayride but just in time for the other festivities.

“No,” he shook his head, looking around as he followed you up the hill toward the large barn and pumpkin patch.

“So, if you’ve never done scarefest before, why’d you wanna come? Tired of the kook parties and felt like changing it up?” You joked, grabbing his hand as you led him through the crowded giftshop and out into the pumpkin patch.

“You wanted to go and I wanted to go on a date with you, seemed like the logical choice.” Topper replied.

“You seriously wanted to go on a date with me?” You asked, letting go of his hand to inspect a large barrel of medium sized pumpkins.

“I asked you out, didn’t I?”

“Who knows why you do things Topper,” you teased, grabbing a pumpkin out and holding it up as you turned around to him, “here, take a picture of me.”

“With a pumpkin?”

“Yeah...uh excuse me!” You called to a woman walking passed, when she turned to look over you held out your phone, “would you take a picture of us?”

“Sure, of course.”

You grabbed Topper’s hand, pulling him close to you, unable to stop smiling when he put his arm around your waist and posed with you while the woman took your picture. It was cheesy, and you would never say it out loud, but you had always wanted to do some basic couples’ thing like this and get your picture taken by some random soccer mom there with her family.

“Thanks,” you took your phone back, swiping through the three pictures the woman took and zooming in to make sure you looked nice in them.

“You two are so cute,” she mentioned as she walked off, Topper nodding as if he agreed and replying with a simple ‘thank you’, not bothering with any sort of explanation. Technically you were here together but you weren’t quite together, together.

“Alright, picture in the pumpkin patch, what other mandatory things do you have written on your list?” Topper asked walking with you through the small crowd. You’d put the pumpkin back, insisting that the local farmer’s market sold them for less and you weren’t wasting money, even Topper’s, on an overpriced pumpkin.

“There’s food, that’s always a necessity. Or the corn maze...it’s technically for kids, I’ve been tall enough to see over the actual corn since I was thirteen but it’s still fun. Or, the petting zoo, that’s always open. Or we could take the tractor ride down to scarefest, it’s starting to get dark.”

“Scarefest sounds good to me.” He replied, standing up a little straighter and you smiled at his change in posture.

“Do you scare easily?” You asked, walking toward the tractor with him, still holding his hand. You’d taken it again as you left the crowded pumpkin patch and you had yet to let go.

“No.” Topper lied. He could barely sit through a scary movie let alone the idea of walking willingly into a haunted house. He didn’t even want to think about the haunted hayride. You climbed on the tractor ahead of him and he finally let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as other couples and groups climbed in.

“Not gonna lie, I am really happy you asked me to come here. And not just cause I wanted to go to scarefest.” You admitted, turning into him a little so he would hear you.

“Wow, that’s some compliment.” Topper joked.

“I’m serious...out of all the kooks, you’re my favorite.”

“There it is.” He said, rolling his eyes at the comment. The pogue and kook dating thing seemed to be working for Sarah and John B, as much as it hurt to see them together in the beginning, and Topper had to admit that it made him wonder if that was possible for you and him. If something more than him being scared out of his mind would come of tonight and the two of you could date.

Maybe that was too much to hope for.

“What? I’m serious. You’re my favorite.” You replied, smiling, “but only because I’m not counting Kie as a kook.”

“Naturally.”

“Then it’s gotta be Kie.”

“I appreciate that.” Topper said, “nothing like being second best.”

“Well, I’m here with you.”

“Cause I asked you.” He pointed out as the tractor rambled along toward the gate of the haunted house.

“Yeah but I said yes.” You replied. “I was like...how many chances am I gonna get to see you freak out over people in costumes.”

Topper laughed, shaking his head at you while you smiled at him, so tempted to kiss him right then but you kept yourself in check. You were not going to blow this entire date by throwing yourself at him in desperation.

The tractor left you off at the gate and you dragged Topper through, eager to get in line for the haunted house. While you stood in line with him people outside dressed in costume lurked around, creeping up on people and making them jump. When a guy in a werewolf costume caught Topper by surprise he nearly jumped and you laughed.

“Just...didn’t expect that.”

“Kinda the point of the haunted house,” you teased, “but you’re scared face is very cute.”

“Great. I’ve always wanted to have a girl compliment me the same way my grandma does.” He groaned as the two of you moved further up in line.

“I could pinch your cheeks too. Just for good measure.” You said, yelping when he prodded your side with his fingers. You smacked his hand away and laughed, “stop.”

“Me? You’re the one antagonizing me the whole night.” He replied. When it was your turn to go inside, he stepped behind you, hands on your waist as you both walked through the door to the haunted house. The immediate flickering of the lights had you reaching for his hand. Even if you weren’t easily scared you hated being disoriented. “Scared?” He asked.

“No.” You promised.

As you and Topper came out the back door of the haunted house he let out a relieved breath, shaking his shoulders and trying to regain some composure. You turned to face him, walking backwards towards the concession stand that sold hot chocolate and apple cider, smiling at him happily. You looked unfazed by the haunted house and he couldn’t even comprehend how that was possible.

“Wasn’t that awesome?”

“Yeah, awesome. I’m coming back every weekend.” Topper replied sarcastically, following you.

“We can skip the hayride if you want?” You offered, knowing that he had clearly lied when he told you that he didn’t scare easily.

“Nah, I’m good.” He insisted. You wanted to go on the hayride and he wanted this to be a great date so that you would go out with him again.

“Okay.” You waited until he caught up with you, taking his hand and walking normally beside him to the concession, “you want some apple cider or something before?”

“Sure.”

As you stood in another line with him, arms around him this time as you stood against his side, you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, “I am really enjoying tonight, all antagonizing aside,” you said.

“We can do something else next week if you want?” Topper chanced and you smiled.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch

153 notes · View notes

funny-house · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think happens during the aggressive sequence when opal’s mom was singing her song?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I have technically answered this before!! but since it was always always always attached to another post or rushed and summarized blah!! I will make this post

The Official

Opal Wine Mom Flashback Analysis tw: spousal abuse, drug use, etc

insert that Always Sunny meme of the disheveled guy at the cork board cause we are going in---

First things first!! Flat answer, then explanation so the answer is: The mom was having memory flashbacks to events within the house, one if not all of them, depicting her being physically abused by her husband, mirror man! A lot of people find that shocking to hear at first, but let me explain I got a lotta proof !!!

Let’s start from literally the tippy top The sequence starts by zooming into the mom’s eye. This represents that whatever is taking place in this flashy sequence is all about her, what she’s been through, and what she’s seen. It’s her perspective. That, combined with how it seems to paralyze her while she’s going through it and her eyes roll to the back of her head until it ends, implies it’s something she’s trying to force away or doesn’t want to think about!

So frame by frame analysis, this is film theory now!! first mental image: A windowpane at night that resembles jail bars. ( maybe the one seen on the bottom floor of the house in outside shots? ) A parallel to Claire’s window and a symbol for her feeling of being trapped-- something she brings up multiple times in her dialogue. She’s stuck here. She doesn’t want to be here but something is holding her by force and she feels helpless to escape it.

Next scene! Hard cut to rapidly trying to call on the phone. They type 9-1-1. The music starts to fade into screaming. Next scene! The mother’s head is in the far corner and the window is seen behind her, a reminder that she feels trapped, as she is literally seen being slapped in the back of the head by a hand. Next scene! A shot of their bedroom(whatever room she’s in!) door as her face melts across the screen Next scene! The mother screaming in a way that flaps her mouth in crazy waves and reveals her teeth and gums exactly like how Claire yells near the end Next scene! She’s shown laying down with pills dancing over her head. Next scene! her face melting below a distortion of multiple shots of her room’s door Next scene! A whole bunch of stuff in rapid fire!! An array of eyeballs and slapping palms and her face distorting and pills and something being thrown and shattering overlayed on her face and then a zoom out from the prison bar-like windows and more screaming bleh Starting to form a picture here, right? Somebody has been very badly abusing this chic. Bad enough that she’s called the police... probably for a domestic dispute, I bet. You can even see a very nasty wound/bruise on her head, just like she’s depicted being most often hit in her flashback!! On the face!!

And in higher quality than this little picture i resize so it doesn’t take up the screen lol, you can pretty clearly see reddening and discoloring-- that’s not just another dent in her weird shaped head, she’s been hit! No other character has visible wounds on their design like that, not even Claire. So why do I assume it’s Mirror Man? Well first, this world exists on a little set yknow they make a point of zooming out and showing as much, all their world is that house and that billboard. If someone not in that house was damaging her, they’d have to establish their existence or this would be.... a weird artistic choice tbh? The visual equivalent of randomly changing the subject lmao So it’s gotta be the dad or the grandpa heck-- it might be both, but I think it’s more likely the grandpa is a passively unpleasant company to her. He’s probably very mean and unstable- like he is to Claire, and-- honestly, for reasons i mentioned in a different post-- probably not even her grandpa but someone she was saddled with--�� BUT he’s not the person in power. It’s just not likely she’d be afraid for her life enough to call the police on a badly disabled grandpa who can barely move without falling. Above all? He couldn’t be the one holding her hostage in a loveless marriage.

LET’S jump to the very very start of the short! Every character has a montage of items that represent their problems as people. Mirror Man is obsessed with self image and is shown frustratedly throwing a tissue at a fashion magazine of a ridiculously exaggerated man’s face, the grandpa is shown putting out a cigarette but he’s missing his cigarette holder and just dabbing it on a TV program list, which is reckless and dangerous and shows a little disdain for TV itself. The mom? She knocks her wine..... onto a romance novel. A novel Jack Stauber deliberately drew the cover of himself about loving a serial killer that depicts another exaggeratedly idealized hot dude... strangling a woman whose smiling and dying in his arms. A toxic relationship, I imagine! Looks like someone!!! is having!! relationship problems, maybe So let’s listen to how the mom describes the problem to her daughter “ It’s a virtuous cycle ” “ And they never repent how I want them to ” “ Our adversaries are in denial ” So it sounds like to me...... not only is she prone to being too forgiving of a certain someone, and that’s why she stays in a horrible situation in a horrible relationship... but that certain someone both gives insincere apologies... and denies that their actions are severe enough to be criticized.

Sound familiar? Maybe it sounds like the insincere apology of a certain mirror loving duderino who insulted his daughter’s ankles and promptly excused himself for having a brain that likes fixing mistakes without ever taking back what he said? And then promptly said this habit of his was uhhhh

“ That’s just a part of my journey, yknow? I’m like a tiny growing thing.” “ Everybody’s so mad at me, like, i’m growing though-- why be so negative? Why do people look at me-- like you probably are right now?” Feign innocence, empty promises to improve, reflect all attempts to convey that you’ve hurt someone? All without even being asked about it, btw lmao? It sounds like someone has something they should be apologizing for... ( You’ll also notice all the 3 adults have a way of talking as if speaking in general terms-- like they’re talking about everybody in the whole world or to an audience rather than to... a little girl they have a personal relationship with-- but i think that’s just expressing how disconnected and self interested they are. You kinda have to read between the lines to get what they’re saying. )

ANYWAYS this is all my take on it, at least ! Hope it made sense!! If... any of you actually read all this junk lmao

#Opal #Hope #Wine Mom #Jack Stauber #lol just tell me TL;DR i will understand #mail time !!#Anonymous

42 notes · View notes

lloydskywalkers · 5 years ago

Text

afsdgfdhgj!! thank you sm, i’m so happy to hear that :’D that is...something i do very much need to work on actually, i’ve been trying to kick the talking-self-down habit for a while now, it’s just!! it’s tough, guys.

on a lighter note, i know exactly what trope you’re talking about and i’m an unapologetic sucker for it afdsgfdh. unfortunately this probably isn’t exactly what you’re looking for, but i got bit by the idea and it wouldn’t let me go, so here’s a somewhat-short (somewhat) fic about it!

Sometimes, the ninja forget they’re technically, kind-of-sort-of, famous. Like, not all the time, because some people are creepy and won’t leave them well enough alone, and some people are just…really enthusiastic…but for the most part, it is easy to forget sometimes, because out of gi they look pretty normal.

(Until Lloyd’s eyes start shuffling through colors like a sporadic traffic light, of course, but that doesn’t happen as much now.)

The point is, sometimes it’s easy to forget that they’re famous.

Sometimes, though — when movie posters the size of the Bounty are plastered all over the city because some wise guy thought making a film about them would be a great idea — it’s harder to forget.

“This feels like an invasion of privacy,” Cole mutters, crossing his arms as he sinks deeper into the theater seat.

“Oh, yeah,” Nya says. “Because trading cards and entire news documentaries with our full names and intimate dating life details were one thing, but a loosely-based movie is where we draw the line.”

“Intimate dating life my foot,” Lloyd scowls, clearly far from getting over that one article that managed to snag a picture of him and Harumi before…everything.

“Well — yeah, fair, but like—” Cole sputters. “They hired actors to play us. They’re gonna be recreating our lives and it’s — it’s weird, okay?”

“I dunno, I think it’s pretty cool,” Kai says, already on his third mouthful of popcorn, and the trailers have’t even started yet. “I mean, it can’t be worse than that play they put on, right?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Zane mutters darkly, his eyes flashing at the reminder.

“I’m with Kai,” Jay says, bouncing in his seat as he reaches for the popcorn. “I think it’s cool that people care enough about us to make a movie, you know? Like, did you see the budget for this thing?”

“Was it as high as the repair cost for the tower we blew up last week?” Lloyd says.

“Uh…maybe. I didn’t compare, exactly. But look, you can’t put a price on lives. A little collateral damage is worth it.”

“A little?” Zane says, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Eh, we helped clean it up,” Nya shrugs. “That counts.”

Jay points at her. “Thank you.”

“Still say it wasn’t my fault,” Kai grumbles, crossing his arms. Lloyd pokes him in the ribs, and Kai yelps, flinching away from him. “Not cool, not cool!”

“We’re definitely not going to make it through this movie without getting thrown out,” Cole groans into his hands. They’re already getting looks from the movie-goers around them, and their patience doesn’t look like it’s going to last very long.

“C’mon, have a little optimism,” Jay placates. “This is gonna be fun— hey, that’s my popcorn!”

“No way, lightning brain, I bought it, I hold it.”

“But you bought it with Nya’s money.”

“Which she stole from Lloyd’s sock drawer this morning, so that doesn’t count.”

“Wait, you stole my sock money?”

“Um…call it payback for stealing the last of the cookies last week.”

“How is that a fair trade, I only took one!”

“Yeah, one dozen—”

“Guys, please—”

“You’re one to talk, you stole all the—”

“Would you all shut up, it’s starting, and — I said shut up!”

******************

It takes a few threats of murder, and one or two threats of open power-use to the face, but they quiet down in time for the opening credits.

The movie begins peacefully enough, with an older man telling some ‘punk little kid’ as Kai describes him, a whole lot of ‘stereotypical sensei mumbo jumbo’ as Lloyd describes it, about himself. Which, to be fair, is pretty accurate to their lives, so they’re able to quietly munch on popcorn for the first few minutes, at least.

But then the plot starts.

“What do they mean, ‘uh oh’, to Lloyd Garmadon?” Kai frowns. “The city loves you.”

Lloyd shrugs, tossing a mouthful of popcorn back. “I dunno,” he says. “I mean, it is tough to be that kid.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s the worst shortie ever, like four feet tall,” Nya whispers to him. Lloyd elbows her in the side. Zane shushes them, just in time for the actual movie Lloyd to show up on the screen, in bed and receiving a call from—

Lloyd doubles over, choking on his popcorn.

“Luh-Lloyd?” Kai says, in delight. “Luh-Lloyd?!”

“Pajamas,” Lloyd wheezes, as Nya thumps his back. “Look at his pajamas, I gotta buy my dad those—”

The others are left to giggle their way through the interpretation of one of their greatest enemies snacking on cereal in printed pajamas, telling Lloyd he ‘must’ve butt-dialed him’. It’s hysterical until Garmadon forgets Lloyd’s birthday, and the Lloyd onscreen gets the signature Sad Puppy Eyes Lloyd Look on his face — which, props to the actor, he nailed it — and everyone looks to Lloyd in sympathy.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Jay pats his shoulder. Lloyd rolls his eyes.

“It’s not me,” he says, shrugging again. Really, his dad forgetting his birthday is like, incredibly tame, compared to hurling him through a prison wall or six.

Now, forgetting he existed, that stings. But also, like, this isn’t his dad, so. Eh. He doesn’t really care.

“Is that supposed to be Misako?”

Never mind. He cares now.

“Are you—” Kai plasters a hand over his mouth, muffling this next part. “—kidding me?!”

“Oh, she’s, uh…really present, huh,” Cole winces, as ‘Koko’ encourages her son about being himself, and other really nice stuff Lloyd would have super appreciated hearing when he was younger.

He opens his mouth again, and Nya takes the opportunity to stuff more popcorn in it. Lloyd chomps down angrily, glaring at the screen and grumbling under his breath.

“At least you’ve shown up at all,” Jay comforts him. Lloyd is very much not comforted. He just wants to get through the rest of the movie in peace, and shift the focus off of him as quick as possible.

Oh boy, is he disappointed.

Like, he gets a few minutes of relief as the others are introduced, but that’s all, really. Even if it is hilarious.

“Hello, fellow teen.”

Cole makes a sound like a dying balloon, and Jay almost coughs popcorn out of his nose. Zane just presses his lips into a flat line, his expression unreadable. “I do not…know how to feel about this.”

Jay and Kai are doubled-over on each other by now, choking on laughter. Cole, bless him, is doing his absolute best not to burst into giggles, while Nya and Lloyd have given up and are full-out cackling.

“Well,” Zane says, eyeing them with a gleam in his eye. “Perhaps I should start updating my database with ‘teen lingo’ then—”

“No!” they all chorus in unison, waving frantically at Zane, earning several dirty looks from the people around them as they do.

“You’re perfect the way you are, buddy,” Jay says hastily.

Kai, at least, seems pretty steadily in character—

“Aw, look, I almost snapped your spine.”

“That’s a Kai hug, for sure.”

—and Nya’s thrilled about having a motorcycle. Jay’s a tad indignant at his character’s stuttering, but Cole reminds him he has zero room to talk, so Jay shuts up in time for Cole to shrug at his own portrayal.

“I like that shirt,” he remarks. “And those headphones are cool.”

Then the reality of the scene they’re watching sinks in.

“Wait, why are we in school?” Zane blinks, confused.

“Why are they being so mean to you?” Cole exclaims at Lloyd, taken aback.

Lloyd makes a face at the cheerleaders on screen, jerking his shoulder up as if to say ‘like I know’. Which is kind of a lie, because he does know, the movie told them, but he’s not gonna get into that. Kai is already fuming in his seat beside him, growing steadily angrier by the second. “Who do they think they are,” he hisses. “I’ll show them a number one hit.”

Lloyd rips his eyes from the screen, watching Kai in mild alarm. “Kai, you know that’s not actually me, right?”

“—tear those kids a new one—”

Lloyd cringes at the looks they’re getting from the people around them, patting Kai’s arm. “Chill out, Kai, seriously. This is like, basic Darkley’s stuff, don’t worry. And I walked away from that fine.”

Wrong thing to say. Kai swivels on him, his eyes flashing. “Wait. This happened to you at Darkley’s? For real?”

“Um…” Lloyd sweats briefly, the sounds of Boo Lloyd! coming from the screen really not helping at all. “I mean, I was a brat. I brought a lot of it on myself.”

Kai looks like he’s going to combust. “I swear—”

“Kai,” Lloyd interrupts, trying to quell the storm. “It’s fine. Seriously. I mean, there was this one time that four guys way bigger than me ganged up and hung me from a roof by my hoodie all night, but it wasn’t that bad. I’m fine.”

Kai’s face turns thunderous, matching the roar of Garmadon finally coming into view onscreen. “Wasn’t that bad?” he says, incredulous, gaining them several shh’s, mainly from Nya. Kai ignores them. “Point me to those punks, Lloyd, I’ll strangle ‘em—”

“Kai.”

“Wha — oh. Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That — that was different.”

“Uh-huh.”

“…you — you weren’t there all night.”

“I sure was.”

“Oh.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Um. Sor…rry?”

Fortunately, both are saved by Garmadon smashing his way on screen in a giant shark mech with a full-scale crustacean-themed army, to which the ninja kind of just…stare. That’s — that’s the best they can do with that one. That, and be thankful Garmadon himself isn’t here to see this.

“I mean, to be fair, I can see him appreciating a song entirely about himself,” Kai mutters, as the chorus continues to yell about Garmadon!. “And — wait, Lloyd, are you filming this?”

“Uh, yeah?” Lloyd says, re-adjusting the zoom feature on his phone. “Now hush, I wanna save this and make it my ringtone.”

******************

The mechs are, admittedly, cool. Their total lack of ability to do Spinjitzu, way less so.

“That’s so not how Spinjitzu works,” Nya scoffs, as Sensei Wu finally makes an appearance, just in time for Lloyd to request wind as an element, which brings on another bout of choking.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Lloyd sighs. He then blinks rapidly. “Wait, where are our powers?”

“Nonexistent, apparently,” Zane murmurs. “Along with our common sense.”

“To be fair, that’s never been a reliable thing in the first place,” Jay points out.

The lack of common sense continues to be a trend throughout the movie, and by the time the ‘Ultimate Weapon’ comes up, things start to go downhill rather fast.

“Which, to continue to be fair, is also pretty in-character. This whole fight kinda is.”

The other ninja grumble in agreement as Lloyd runs off to confront his father alone despite all warning, and Lloyd begins to sink lower into his seat. He has a bad feeling he knows exactly where this is going, and sadly, he isn’t disappointed.

Well, for the most part.

“A cat?” Lloyd yelps, his eyes bugging out. “A giant cat?! How is that fair? All I ever get to fight is creepy part-reptile people who want to suck the power out of me, where do I sign up for this?”

“This is surreal,” Zane remarks, as Meowthra tears her merry way across the screen. The whole scene is a disaster, slo-mo destruction and everything, but it’s pretty much the standard fare they’re used to, so they really don’t bat much of an eye as the cat totally wrecks them.

“Nice to know we can’t catch a break in any universe,” Jay sighs sadly, as his mech is torn apart on screen.

“This movie is really beating the ‘don’t-challenge-dad-solo’ message over the head, huh,” Lloyd mutters, chin in his hand, having recovered from his brief bout of extreme-cat-heart-eyes.

Kai gives him a stink-eye. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Understandably, the Lloyd onscreen is considerably upset at the apparent destruction of all his friends. The ninja are all incredibly curious as to where the movie is going to go next, though, since this Garmadon celebrates his victory by throwing a pretty sick party instead of building a skyscraper-sized stone Colossi of destruction and wrecking half the city.

“Kind of unfair,” Jay scowls, as the henchman do the conga onscreen. Nya’s got a smart comment to make back, but then the Lloyd onscreen reveals himself —

“In typical dramatic-Lloyd fashion, they got that right.”

“Oh, shut up.”

— and then proceeds to snap at the Garmadon onscreen, “I wish you weren’t my father.”

The theater goes remarkably quiet, as do the ninja. Cautiously, they turn to look at Lloyd, who is staring at the screen with a look on his face similar to if you’d shaken up a soda bottle really hard and were about to take the top off. Then—

“Oh, heck yeah, how’s that for karma, you over-powered conceited jerk of a dad,” Lloyd hisses viciously at the screen, punching his fist in the air. “He’s got the right idea, it’s my turn to start disowning family members. Screw ‘you’re not my son’, I’m gonna pull this one out next time and disown him—!”

“Lloyd,” Nya says, a bit nervously. “You know he’s, uh, he’s crying on screen now, right?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd spits.

“You, uh. You know you are too, right?”

“N-no.”

“Therapy,” Cole whispers to Zane. “So much therapy.”

“I’ve already booked us,” Zane murmurs back, sliding his phone back in his pocket. “If the office can simply manage not get blown for one more week this time, we might actually make it."

******************

While they do, however, manage to stay quiet for most of that scene — and isn’t Cole wildly impressed with them for that — the next scene kind of shoots that victory right into tiny little pieces.

“Why are we being so mean to you now?” Cole exclaims, flabbergasted, as the poor Lloyd onscreen looks seconds from tears, the rest of the team staring down at him with firm glares.

“Shh, this is getting dramatic,” Lloyd hushes him.

Nya gets a look on her face that promises murder, and Kai refuses point-blank to be shushed.

“What a bunch of jerks. We’d never do something like that, I’m going to have words with some people—”

“Jamanakai,” Lloyd just says, wearily. “Rooftop. All night.”

Kai deflates, sinking into his seat. “S’not the same,” he mutters, fiercely. “We never said all those mean things to you.”

Lloyd gently pats his arm. “There, there,” he says. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I never said it! It’s — it’s that imposter on screen, that’s who!”

“Kai, I know—”

Lloyd is interrupted by an unfortunately-timed declaration from the onscreen Jay.

“Now, we hate you.”

Lloyd blinks, almost surprised at the slight flare of hurt that sparks in his chest at that. Which is stupid, because these directors don’t know them, and that’s not really Jay, but hey, why not play into his worst fears, movie—

Then “Jay!” is hissed in scandalized unison, and Lloyd stuffs said worst fears back into box and tries not to snicker at the look on his brother’s face.

“It’s not me!” Jay defends desperately, waving his hands wildly. “That’s not me!”

“Deleting all data related to treating Lloyd as a friend.”

Jay is saved as everyone turns on Zane, who just buries his face in his hands. “Let it end,” he moans.

******************

Apart from being shocked that Sensei Wu is actually going with his ninja on their quest for the Ultimately Ultimate Weapon—

“It’s ultimate ultimate, did you miss that trip-inducing scene they explained it with?”

—they aren’t as surprised by things anymore after that, having caught on to the movie’s flow. It’s a little more slapstick than they’re used to, all bright colors and quick action, but it’s enjoyable to watch Garmadon and Sensei Wu snipe at each other, at least.

“Ten bucks says he survives just fine,” Cole says blandly, as Sensei Wu goes plummeting toward the river.

Not one of them take him up on that wager.

“Geez, they’re really roasting us for being morons in this, huh,” Jay observes, as their onscreen counterparts take the clearly-a-trap route, as per Garmadon’s advice.

Lloyd, who is still stewing about having his voice made fun of, bites out, “I think it’s pretty valid, for some of us.”

“Oh, suck it up already, Lloyd. Your voice changed anyways, get over it.”

“Are you saying I sounded ridiculous before?”

“Uh, no-o…?”

“Oh, there we go, getting humiliated again,” Nya sighs, as the ninja are cornered by Garmadon’s ex-generals. “I wonder why they didn’t give us our powers. You’d think they’d have capitalized on that, it’d look pretty cool.”

“Who knows. I’m still trying to figure out if my character’s love for music is a clever reference to me and my dad’s singing background, or just a shallow attempt to give me character at all,” Cole muses. They turn back to the movie just in time to wince in unison as the ninja onscreen flee, leaving Lloyd and Garmadon to be captured.

Kai is less than pleased with this development.

“Oh, so we’re just leaving Lloyd behind now? Who wrote this movie, I wanna talk.”

******************

By the time Garmadon’s teaching Lloyd how to throw bricks from a roof to some sappy soundtrack, then relocating his dislocated shoulder in a wild tone change, they’re mostly lost for words.

Also kind of enjoying the movie, though no one will admit it. The expressions are funny, and there are some lines that hit home. Sure, Lloyd spends a good ten minutes alternating between sputtering and gaping when Garmadon describes their family history, and only proceeds to get worse when everyone else receives powers and he gets a cute little tree branch, but it is fun to watch their onscreen counterparts run around to “I’ve Got the Power” playing cheerfully in the background. Plus, no one tries to ostracize Lloyd again, and it’s oddly satisfying to watch Garmadon get eaten by a giant cat, so by the time Lloyd’s trying to hide suspicious sniffling into the empty popcorn tub while his onscreen counterpart is giving Garmadon his big sappy speech about forgiveness, they might actually give the movie a decent rating.

Cole’s just happy they haven’t been thrown out yet, because they’ve really been pushing it this whole time. But finally, it seems like everyone’s settled down and is keeping perfectly quiet—

“What do you mean, he gets to keep the cat?”

Cole’s hopes and dreams go up in sad, despairing smoke.

“Wait, that’s what’s bothering you?” Nya blinks. “Not the whole, ‘this Lloyd gets his entire family back happy’ part, but the cat part?”

“Well yeah, I’m upset about the cat part!” Lloyd exclaims indignantly. “He gets a giant cat! The size of a skyscraper! What kind of raw deal did my grandfather cut me here, I didn’t even get to keep my dragon! This is so dumb, and — and oh look, now my dad’s all happy and stuff—”

Nya and Zane glance around in alarm. The movie-goers around them seem to be losing the last, lingering shreds of their patience, and Cole wisely decides that this might be a nice time to make an exit. The movie looks like it’s about over, anyways, and—

“—and what, they just have happy family dinners together now?!”

Yeah, they’re leaving.

******************

“Well, that was…enlightening,” Zane says blankly, as they exit the theater. He still looks tragically annoyed at the way the producers decided to portray him, but he’s mostly recovered by now. Probably because he torched his little movie poster on the way out, but who are they to judge.

“I think you mean infuriating,” Kai mutters, glaring at the theater as they leave it behind.

“I don’t know, it wasn’t so bad,” Nya says. “Like, they obviously decided to go for Lloyd’s very sensitive personal life as a focus point, so at least the rest of us got off alright.”

“Giant cat,” Lloyd mourns, clearly still more hung-up on that than Ninjago’s apparent obsession with his family drama.

“I just wanna try that lightning thing later,” Jay says. “Know any doors I can practice busting open dramatically?”

“Yeah, the door to the producer’s office,” Kai grumbles.

“Enough, guys,” Cole sighs. “It was a lot better than it could’ve been. Let’s just be happy the city still likes us enough to make us the heroes.”

They all nod at that, placated for now, at least. They fall into silence, carefully navigating their way home, until Jay breaks the quiet.

“Your heroes on the wa-a-ay,” Jay murmurs. He’s met with five looks of equal disappointment. “What?” he shrugs. “It’s catchy.”

Cole rolls his eyes, and Kai scoffs. They fall back into silence for a beat, their footsteps the only sound on the street, then—

“Something-something save the da-a-ay,” Lloyd hums.

Jay beams, and Kai moans. Nya just grins. “Gonna something-something pla-a-ace—”

“That takes us higher!”

They dissolve into snickers, their mix of off-key singing echoing across the Ninjago City streets. Cole spares a sigh of despair at their attempt, but he can’t help grinning too. It is a catchy song, and, to be fair, for trying to capture their general team spirit, it comes pretty close.

A lot closer than half that movie did, he frowns. Though he does still want that shirt his counterpart wore.

“Hey,” Jay speaks up. “Let’s learn that Garmadon song next. We can sing it to him in battle.”

“Oh, now you’re talking.”

#lego ninjago #ninjago #tlnm #sort of #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #nya smith #kai smith #the whole gang's here even if they don't wanna be #listen i'll defend this movie til the death bc it's what got me here #but the show ninja would have Opinions #answered #my fic

560 notes · View notes

depressedtransguy · 3 years ago

Text

im tired so I can’t think of a threat but if you read this and you’re not @angelwiththeblue-box ue-box then I’ll cut off your uvula and make you drown in your own blood

Anthony was just stepping out of the Sanctum when he got the call on his glasses. They buzzed gently against his face as his sister's name flashed right in front of his eyes, reminding him that his sister was the only person connected to his spectacles. And she only called him for one thing. "I will thank every god in the multiverse if you tell me right now that you're not in prison again," Anthony whispered with a seething rage as he answered the call, his fingers flexing on a stress ball.

Her overly long silence wasn't comforting. I'm in prison again.

Not knowing whether to scream or break things, Anthony just inhaled sharply as his stress ball popped. "Frigga, I'm about to go on a date! With Atreo! Remember, the Greek god of a man that I'm somehow dating?"

I remember.

"Is there at least not anyone there who's going to immediately kill you? Can you wait a night? Please?"

There was a huff from the other end. You're going to leave your sister in prison for a night to have sex with a mortal?

"Well he doesn't make me break him out of space prison!!" Frigga was right of course. He had to help her. And normally he didn't mind it, it was cracking codes and breaking laws, two of his favorite things, but Atreo was... hot. And Anthony was gay. It was unfair. But like the message of every single Fast and the Furious movie, family came first. "Fine. I'll help. But you owe me big time."

Okay okay, I owe you I owe you, just help me get out of here.

So with the gay side of his mind screaming at him to go hook up with a man carved out of stone, he teleported into his lab and plopped down into his swivel chair with a huff, then letting it roll him over to his main computer. "What prison are you at?" He started up the monitor and tossed his destroyed stress ball over his shoulder.

The Xandarian one.

Anthony groaned. "Again? Stop going to Xandar! They know you're a war criminal!"

It was just a little treason, don't be such a bitch.

"It's not the crimes, it's the fact that you keep going to the places where you know you'll be arrested. I'm a felon on at least 12 planets, but at least I'm smart enough to avoid them," Anthony pointed out, tapping the correct coordinates into the computer before dragging out the 3D model of the building and spinning it around in his hands. "But I guess it's better than one we've never broken out of before. Even though you'll probably be locked up twice as much and have three times as many guards making sure you don't get out. Fun. Really really fun." Anthony double tapped the side of his glasses to increase the volume on her end. "Where are you right now?"

I'm in line for my mugshot. My wrists are locked together with power dampers and there's a guard ready to taser me if I take a wrong step, but besides that I'm pretty free. So I was able to tap the piece with my shoulder and they just think I'm crazy talking to myself. Same place as last time.

The young scientist increased the size of the hologram prison until he spotted the room she was talking about and he then pulled it out before pushing it back into the computer. The camera footage from that room immediately popped up. Due to Frigga being arrested so frequently, he had already programmed the entire hologram with the codes needed to access both their camera and security system. It just made the whole process a lot simpler. "Alright I'm in." Anthony rolled forward in the chair and squinted at the monitor, increasing the picture with two outstretched fingers until he could zoom in on where his sister stood waiting for her mugshot to be taken next. "Oh my god, you put up another fight didn't you?"

...Maybe.

With a groan Anthony leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You may be powerful Frigga, but you, with your wrists and neck locked, and your powers suppressed, and four Xandarian guards surrounding you, you absolutely will not win in any situation." And it was obvious she didn't win that time either. A black ring was around her eye with blood dripping down her philtrum and her chin, as well as what appeared to be another bruise on her left cheekbone.

Says the guy with more scars to mark his battles than me.

She was right. She was. But that didn't mean he liked it. "This isn't about my problems right now, this is about yours," Anthony pointed out. "Focus on listening to directions. I don't want you to get hit again." Even though she was messing up his date, that's not how he wanted to get revenge on her. He already had a better plan that was calming his anger just from knowing they'd be even in the end.

You're not breaking me out now?

"Surrounded by guards and other unstable patients and chained up to your ass? I'm not stupid. Just trust me, I know what I'm doing."

A sigh came from her end. Fine. But I need to get a new prison breakout guy. My current one's too slow.

Anthony laughed back. If he was suffering emotionally, then she could too. It was only fair. "I'm the best in the business honey, don't underestimate me. And I don't make you pay me. Calculating the exact price of a hacker-if we ignore the fact that they would have to be available for you at any time since you get arrested way more than the average person-with the amount of times I've helped you out, including now, that adds up to about... $14,191. And we're poor."

Fuck you.

"Fuck you too, I'm out of fourteen hundred dollars and a date. Now just pretend to be obedient for the next 20 minutes and I'll get you out."

I still hate you.

"I hate you too."

The siblings fell into silence as Frigga's arm was grabbed and she was then pushed onto the platform, right in front of the electronic height measurer that all mugshots had for some reason. In her flat shoes she rose up to the marking of 6' 1". Which did annoy Anthony a bit, as he sort of received the short end of the stick when it came to tall genetics, but he swallowed his jealousy and listened to what the officers had to say while she was scanned and her pictures were taken. ACAB might be true, but they did have some pretty interesting banter.

She's back again? one guard, who Anthony nicknamed 'Terry' on the spot, commented with a hint of sarcasm.

Yep, the other guard, nicknamed 'Jake', responded with a small *pop* on the 'p'. The bounty's big on her, I'm surprised she wasn't handed over sooner.

Well she's escaped out of here thrice, so she's obviously got some tricks up her sleeves.

Jake let out a low whistle. Three times? That's gotta be a record.

It is. She just... slips through our fingers every single time. I don't know how she does it. Maybe with an accomplice or something, something that our camera's can't detect, maybe a brother or a parent or a friend, but there's no way they'll get through this a fourth time.

The two space cops laughed and assumedly bumped their fists together based on the small popping noise that came from the other end. Anthony only smirked and then tuned out their annoying voices when it moved to annoying prison stuff to then jot down the information typed out on the wall where she stood, describing her ethnicity, criminal background (there was a lot of that), special powers, descriptive marks, etc etc. He didn't look up when she was told to turn to her side.

You're paying attention, right? I can hear you writing something, Frigga suddenly interrupted.

"I have to record all the information they have on you to figure out if it can possibly be exploited. I'm organized Frigga, and anything can be important."

Frigga just groaned. Just get me out.

"Patience... is a virtue."

Patience can kiss my ass.

"You can kiss your ass goodbye if you don't shut up and follow the guards; I can see them looking at you." Although it was mostly to shut her up, he technically was telling the truth, as one of the guards broke out from the group to grab Frigga's bicep and pull her away from the mugshot space. Normal prisoners moved on their own with guards nearby, but three time escapists were snatched and moved on their own. Which Frigga wasn't used to, nor did she like. If Anthony wasn't there to bargain with her for her peace she definitely would have put up another fight and made practically everything ten times harder for herself. "I'll lead your escape plan in the direction of killing that guard," he offered as a reward if she stayed calm. A pretty useful tactic that both of them used on each other whenever something that they weren't good at was involved and needed to be done.

And it worked as usual. Frigga just huffed and pushed her shoulders back in order to hold her head high as she was walked toward where she would be temporarily staying, knowing she'd get to slaughter the person manhandling her in the end. Anthony followed them through the different rooms along the different security cameras.

More and more shackles were added as they went. A muzzle slapped on that thankfully still let her speak, new and bigger handcuffs, legs chained together to be dragged along the floor, and a full on torso restraint, all with Frigga looking more and more annoyed. It was actually pretty funny. Not that Anthony would say that aloud since he knew she'd just get (rightfully) mad. Although he had clicked record a minute prior and planned to laugh his ass off in front of her later. Once no one's life (but his) was in danger.

Eventually there were enough chains on her and she had reached her single containment facility, so while one guard lifted her up from the ground, the other opened the door for her to be thrown inside like a sack of potatoes before they then slammed it shut. At that Anthony had to laugh audibly at.

Oh fuck off.

"You didn't- they just- they just fucking threw you-" Anthony struggled out, wheezing through the words due to how hard he was laughing. It was so fucking funny. "You should have seen yourselffff."

Get me out of prison quicker so I can kill you quicker.

Anthony had to take another minute or two to stop laughing before he could actually get to work. "Alright, could you describe your surroundings? I have no quick way of getting in there."

Fine. I'm in a small, most likely vibranium room, about four feet by ten feet by... 12 feet. There are some sort of magnets in the back that connect to the chains' padlocks, so as soon as I was tossed in they snapped together, so now I'm hung up kinda like Jesus Christ on the cross. The room besides the door is bare.

"Any cracks above or below the door?"

Not a thing. They really don't want me to get out of here.

"But you will. Could you describe your chains to me? I didn't get a good look when I was watching you before."

The links are about three inches across, the metal an inch thick, and the cuffs are as heavy as Jeff, being almost four inches up and one and a half inches thick. They cover most of my forearms. The color is... a dark gray with a little hint of navy blue. Uh, I should paint this scene. I think I could really piss some Christians off with it because no joke, I'm exactly positioned like Jesus was in the El Greco pai-

Silence followed for a few seconds. Anthony was planning on telling her to focus once her sentence was done and comment on her mention of Jeff, their childhood 15 pound cat, but the end of it never came. So he just zoomed in on the door and increased the volume on her side once more. "Frigga? Come in Frigga."

There wasn't even silence on the other end. Static started to come through. "What the-" Anthony's work didn't produce static. His inventions and creations didn't create static. Ever. "Frigga tell me this is a joke, what's going on?" There had been no movement at the door, and as he was forced to take Frigga's word about the room's layout, there was no other entrance to it. "Frigga. Come on."

The only reason he was snapped out of the repeated cycle of him adjusting his glasses and repeating his sister's name was because his other senses perked up and he caught the feeling of a presence behind him. A certainly unfamiliar one. But before he could even turn or react, he was snatched from behind and his whole world went black.

Frigga was being manhandled again when she woke up. "Ugh, did you dickheads knock me out again?" she hissed as she twisted in her shackles, surprised to be out of her personal prison with no warning, but still angered. "I was thinking about painting, asshole." She was struck in the face (as expected) for her rudeness. At least Anthony didn't scold her for it. Could you do your best to not piss everyone off while you're vulnerable? That would be great, is what he always said. As your doctor I have to tell you that it's a stupid ass thing to do. But he said nothing.

In fact there was no sound at all from Anthony. Not even breathing. Just static...

Wait. "What's your name?" the guard holding her up by her biceps demanded before she could properly think about where her brother was. "Who are you?"

"Who am I? You guys have arrested me four times! In fact I should be asking you that, are you a new hire or something? I didn't see you the last time I was here."

The guard brought his arm back to hit her again, but that time the other one stopped him. "Her sleeve is torn. She's telling the truth; she has been arrested multiple times."

"Then explain why she isn't in the system!"

"I can't. But she's not lying, so you shouldn't hit her. Let's just bring her to the mugshot area, get a photo, and then put her in the hardcore containment facility so we can figure this stuff out on our own," he bargained with the more unstable guard.

The guard did agree after a bit more negotiating, and soon enough Frigga was brought back to the mugshot area and positioned on it. It didn't look like the same one she was in just minutes earlier. Well, it looked... similar? Yet... outdated. Like the old system they used to use. She didn't say anything aloud, as she knew that would just get her hit again, but she tried to imprint the oddities in her mind as best she could. Dammit why did Anthony get Dad's photographic memory?! she mentally hissed as details vanished from her brain almost seconds after. Why do I have to be forgetful?

"Turn."

"Yeah yeah, I know I know," Frigga grumbled, reluctantly doing as told and then eyeing the information they were presenting about her on the screen. Some of it was from the identifying marks and tears on her clothing, like her escapist status and such, but most of it had come from the special type of scanner that The Kyln owned that could identify everything from hidden objects on the body down to a being's DNA. Hers was correctly listed as 50% Terran, 50% Jotunn. Her ear piece wasn't recognized just like Anthony had designed. But, in an odd turn of events, none of her powers were listed as they usually were. Not one.

After the scan was done, leaving both the guards and the young demi-god with more questions than answers, Frigga was grabbed by the bicep and led over to a containment facility. Not her usual single one, but a seemingly group one with approximately 13 more people inside. Only a few had handcuffs. And no chains were added to her, leaving her completely open spare her wrists, which was a ridiculous oversight on their part. (There had been a lot of weird oversights on their part by then.) At least it would be an easy break out. "Anthony, are you there?"

No answer.

Frigga bent her arms and reached over to press into the ear piece in case it accidentally got turned off when she was passed out. She said her brother's name again, ignoring the looks she got from other hardened criminals inside. "If you're fucking with me you are so dead when I get home."

"Hey crazy, stop talking to yourself, some of us are trying to nap here."

The familiar voice made Frigga stop in her action and turn toward it. "Rocket?" The other guardians also laying down looked up at the call of his name. "What- what are you all doing here? You're supposed to be in New Asgard."

They all looked extremely confused. "What? Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you are or what New Asgard is," Rocket continued, reluctantly pushing up to his paws and rubbing out the flat spot in his fur, "so I guess I'd prefer for you to talk to 'Anthony' because what you're doing now is creeping me out even more."

"Okay- no. I'm not the crazy one here. Everyone and everything has been weird, and now you guys too? Come on, this isn't fair."

"Hey, isn't New Asgard that place where Thor was living before he joined us?" Quill questioned as he too sat up.

Rocket only groaned. "Great, let's get more people in on this conversation. Peter, please don't enable her, she's obviously lost her head."

"What do you mean she lost her head, her head's right there on her shoulders!" Drax chimed in, getting up and gently shaking her back and forth with a grip on her shoulder to show that her head was really on there.

Frigga was used to Drax's typical maneuvering and his deafness to sarcasm, so him moving her back and forth was the least of her worries at that point. It was the others. "Mantis, come on, you remember me, right?" Frigga said in exasperation, being the only one in the room who was completely lost making her a bit worked up. Especially since she didn't have Anthony in her ear. He was always with her when she was arrested; in one way or another.

Mantis seemed to sense this and walked over to press her open palm to her revealed bicep. "You feel... desperate."

"Well I am desperate because I'm the only sane one here but you're all looking at me as if I'm the crazy one. Rocket, Quill, Drax, Mantis... Groot! Come on, you all know me," she went on, just waiting and practically praying that one of them would grin and tell her it was just a stupid joke. But that didn't happen. In fact the only change in their expressions was Groot looking up and murmuring something about it being too loud for him to play his game. "Oh come on!" With a huff she plopped down on the floor and rested her head against the wall's cool steel, bending her elbows again to cover her eyes with her hands and hoping that it would all just disappear. But, as one might guess, that didn't happen, and in fact she felt someone move over and sit next to her. Most likely out of pity.

It was Quill, of course. "What's your name?"

Maybe they were hit with some memory loss thing. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. So Frigga opened her eyes and turned her head toward him. "Frigga."

His eyes widened a bit and Frigga got a little too excited. "Do you finally recognize me?"

"No- sorry, but that's just this- guy that I know's mother's name. Frigga," he gently explained with a slight blush and a nervous scratch at the back of his head.

The movements were a little confusing at first, but then Frigga realized that they were coming from the mention of Thor, and didn't have to do with her at all. But why would he act like that? Thor and he had been dating for decades. Since before she and her brother were born. She and baby Anthony were at their wedding. He was in a little blue tux and she in a little green dre- wait a fucking second. "Quill... What year is it?"

"What do you mean? It's 2024. What else would it be?"

Frigga gasped and jumped to her feet. It all clicked at once. Why the guards didn't know her. Why all the technology and architecture seemed older and outdated. Why her own uncle and the guardians didn't recognize her. She hadn't even been born yet. But the only question still there was... how? And also, why? But in order to have a prayer at answering those questions, she had to get back to Earth where she knew the Avengers as well as her parents would be. Although they technically weren't her parents yet. God are they even dating yet? It didn't matter. She just needed to get there and hope that Anthony was there too. The only problem (besides every other problem that she had) was that she had never escaped a prison without him before. They could only do it with each other. It seemed like a major roadblock... until she glanced over at the raccoon.

"Hey, Rocket, could you remind me again of how many prison's you've broken out of?"

Rocket, who had clearly been trying to ignore them but was just accepting his fate as his name was called once more, turned toward them with crossed arms. "About 24. What's it to ya?"

A small smile spread over Frigga's face. "And how many times out of here?"

"Just the one."

"Great. If you bring me to Earth, I'll help you get out."

He scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "And why would I need your help out of here?"

"Because I've escaped here three times myself. And, you don't have Gamora, nor is Groot an adult as he was last time. Earth isn't even that far from here, just a few jumps, so why not pad your escape with me- a demi-god by the way -and just take me there in return?" she bargained, getting more and more calm and excited as her thoughts clicked together. Sure, everything was still weird, but at least she was able to get a grip on her situation.

Based on his extremely annoyed expression, Rocket knew that she was right and that they could use the help, yet was extremely reluctant to admit it. "Demi-god? We already got a half celestial, I don't think we need any more half- things," he tried to point out.

But Quill was on her side. "No, no, I think we should hear her out. Especially since I don't even have the powers of a half celestial anymore. If she's escaped from here three times then she could really be a big help for us. They've changed a lot of things since we were last here, and we're in a new area. And, although I'm not sure how she knows about Gamora and Groot, she's right about that too."

Rocket snarled as Frigga smirked and raised her arms up at him in a shrug. "The man's got a point."

"That man is also an idiot. But fine. You can join us, and we'll bring you to Earth."

Frigga grinned wider as Rocket moved closer and removed what seemed to be some sort of bobby pin from the back of his head, making her cuffs fall off in under a minute. She rubbed her sore wrists and thanked him. "We should probably pick up Thor from Earth anywhere, I'm pretty sure he's still there with the Avengers," Quill pointed out as he joined them and glanced at the red rings on her skin. "Why were those so tight?"

"Well, due to my powers they need to restrict me so I don't just slaughter them all and escape like that, and they usually do that with overly tight power dampers," she explained to him as she continued to try to get the blood flowing normally back into her hands. "You get used to it. Especially since they get steadily tighter and tighter due to the guards' fear in me increasing every time. I killed a bunch last time so the chains applied doubled. Until I woke up in 2024 of course, but I'm ignoring that for now."

Quill very obviously had no idea what she was talking about, but as he wasn't one to judge with making sense he just smiled at her. "Good, you can do it again."

"After this stunt? Fuck yeah I'm going it again."

Stephen had no idea why he was being called to Avengers Tower. Except for the occasional meeting that he was forced to attend that he usually managed to escape early from, he had never been asked to go to their living and working quarters. So he couldn't imagine what the problem was. "What's the situation and how can I get out of it quicker?" was the first thing that fell out of his mouth once he stepped out of the portal. He was met with the stares of all six Avengers and Loki. Great. "What the hell happened?"

"We found a kid."

Definitely not what Stephen expected Tony to say. "What?!"

"Okay that was a shitty explanation. Just look." The group parted to reveal a body rested on their couch with handcuffs around his unconscious wrists. The only indicator that he was alive was the small rise and fall of his chest. He looked young, easily 18, with dark brown hair that slightly fell over his forehead, and glasses over eyes of a hidden color. Stephen noticed most of all was that he had two thick scars on the dorsal side of his hands; one for each. "We found him in our meeting room. There's no identifying items on him, and his fingerprints aren't in the database, so we have basically no idea who he is."

"So what can I do?" Stephen questioned.

"Ask Loki. He's the one who requested you."

Only then did Stephen look up to lock eyes with his fellow sorcerer. One that he had never really gotten along with. "You?"

"To be fair I didn't request you, I just said it would be useful to have another magic user here. John Doe here has magic practically radiating off of him," Loki tried to explain without making it seem like he wanted Stephen there, hints of forced annoyance and real nervousness leaking through. The 'John Doe' reference was imprinted in the sorcerer supreme's mind without a clear reason. Since when does he know Midgardian terms? "Can't you sense it?"

Stephen could. There was a large amount of power coming from him. "It's a multitude of different types. I can't even distinguish them; they're all so mixed up."

Loki agreed. "I was planning on picking through his memories, but due to the mixture of magic and power, I thought it'd be more safe if I waited for you to hold him down if anything goes wrong." An uncomfortable amount of silence passed between the two, unknown whether to continue genuinely or be sarcastic and snarky. "Not that I think you're capable of it, but you're sort of better than nothing."

There it was. The Avengers looked around at each other as they were described as 'nothing', the sorcerers forgetting about anything that wasn't the other, as usual. "You're very kind, Loki," Stephen drawled out with a sarcastic smile.

"I am, aren't I?" With that he jumped over the couch and kneeled down next to the body, gingerly going to place his fingers on his forehead.

But just as they brushed his skin the entire tower shook lightly and made everyone look up. FRIDAY spoke up to fill them in. The Guardians have arrived, sir. And they have a guest on board.

"Well that was quick," Thor murmured under his breath. "They're getting better at escaping."

"Were they in prison again?" Bruce questioned.

Thor nodded back. "I'll go greet them, you guys stay here and figure out his identity." With a small wave the god of thunder then left the room, and all other attendants watched until he left the room and then they all turned back toward the boy on the couch. Except- oh. Fuck.

"Where did he go?" Loki whispered.

"I'm right here."

The entire group swiveled to see the boy formerly laying on the couch sitting in a chair behind them all, his legs and arms crossed tightly, handcuffs done, and a stern expression on his face. "And I'd like to know what the hell is going on."

"You're the one who somehow got into our tower, why don't you explain it to us?" Clint shot back.

The boy only looked at him with a face void of all amusement. And with eyes that were a colored a blood red.

#sorry i keep bothering you with stories i feel like this thing is one sided where i keep asking you for favors and im really sorry about tha #that #hope you like it thou

2 notes · View notes

bladekindeyewear · 4 years ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-23

More homestuuuuuck

I’m a little tired today so I don’t expect much intelligent analysis out of myself, but if anything classpecty happens I doubt I’ll be able to help myself regardless.

oh, always

(EDITS: added note on horn colors, link to ask on potential Blood powers reference)

> CHAPTER 12. Really Convoluted Metaphorical Horseshit

cuuute

In the bowels of a different ship, at a moment in time that is not pinpointable in either direction from the previous interaction, another Dave raps quietly to himself.

another dave raps quietly to himself. i am glad that phrase exists it brings me joy

(LATER EDIT: A friend on Discord pointed out that throughout this entire update, Karkat's horns are #FF0000 red. They were normal candy-corn colors in previous glimpses at the ship crew, though they used a dark single-color shortcut typical of old Homestuck at one point... but THIS time it stays STARK red even when we zoom in close later. Is this just artistic liberty? Did Karkat color his horns for fashion? Does this happen to red-bloods like the Sufferer after a certain age? Just how much time has actually passed, here? We might have to wait for the commentary for this one.)

KARKAT: I WAS SAYING I THOUGHT WE MIGHT GO, I DUNNO, ANYWHERE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE SHIP WHILE THE CLOTHES WERE WASHING. KARKAT: SEEING AS THIS DECREPIT MACHINE WE WERE SO BLESSEDLY PROVIDED WITH MAKES A WHIRRING SOUND SO PANCHAFINGLY ARHYTHMIC THAT IT THREATENS TO ERADICATE THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF TEMPO FROM THE UNIVERSE.

Karkat really has chilled out hasnt he? like this is surprisingly level for him, and that fact is hilarious.

KARKAT: AND YET SOMEHOW BASICALLY ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED SINCE WE STARTED THE LOAD IS THAT YOU’VE BEEN USING IT AS A FUCKED UP BEAT TO WHISPER TO YOURSELF ABOUT FLOWERS TO.

oh gosh that’s why he’s rapping

> ==>

DAVE: kanaya was telling me this kids story the other day about this dude who didnt cherish a flower enough until it peaced out to do flower stuff idk its not pertinent to the story DAVE: except the flower was a person DAVE: because it was a metaphor

Oh right, coming back to the Little Prince stuff I was too lazy to metaphor-deep-dive into, and literally asking the same questions we were asking about who the Little Prince’s story applies to mapped here if anyone at all, like Dirk and such, or what biases were in the retelling of it and the way Kanaya phrased it. So now we’re practically mocking it by deep diving it here, hence the last page’s “DAVE: i was just thinking through some really convoluted metaphorical horseshit”, which means we’re both about to further explore AND shit all over the existence of this story metaphor until it doesn’t mean anything and most of the meaning we drew from it earlier is made a joke~

well, not “we”, cause I was too lazy, so... y’all

DAVE: anyway what goes down in the story is that once the flower lady is out of the picture DAVE: the main character goes around making all these connections between her and everything else in the universe until every damn thing feels like a symbol for how much he fucked up and how much he will never see her again KARKAT: THIS SEEMS PRETTY FUCKING INTENSE FOR A KID'S STORY DAVE: yea thats pretty much what i said

Oh holy shit. That’s yet another way to put it. Are we doing a whole moral takedown of the Light aspect today? cause it sounds like we’re taking a dump on the Light aspect and RoboRose getting too obsessed and immersed in it, which would be excellent

DAVE: but i guess its not so much what the story was technically textually about but more like the version of it kanaya internalized and then told me when we were talkin about how she misses rose

exactly

DAVE: so like now im taking the story she told me she was projecting her feelings onto and projecting my feelings on top of that

yes absolutely, you just rephrased it a different way with that exact same bias

DAVE: this is just one big game of emotional projection telephone so feel free to go paraphrase it to roxy later and make it about whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing

perfect. i need an emoji for that Italian thing for when you pinch your thumb and forefinger together and kiss it

ah this’ll do:

its like the expression “choice” but in nonverbal form

[...] whatever fuckin thing youre currently missing KARKAT: YOUR ABILITY TO GET TO THE POINT DAVE: gotem DAVE: anyway you’re not gonna have to miss that skill of mine for long DAVE: get ready for this shit because i am about to slap you with the point so hard youll fall ass first into the washer DAVE: just scrambling around in there getting all sudsy DAVE: but your brain is gonna be so blasted from the mindfreak of a point im about to make that there wont be anything left to clean

Anytime dave is told to get to the point he is contractually obligated to spend at least 20 seconds talking about how he’ll get to the point in a way that is not getting to the point

DAVE: so its genuinely cool that kanaya can go around creating meaning that may or may not be actually present in every little thing DAVE: connecting every feeling she has to the idea of her wife existing out there DAVE: so i told her she should keep that shit up DAVE: but im having the opposite issue where im struggling to find anything to be that kind of tether because every single thing i could possibly consider about what it is were doing just reminds me of yet another thing to be afraid about

Great examples of Light being good and bad! Attaching strands of connective meaning to everything. --though, in Dave’s case AND Kanaya’s case you could argue it’s both bad in terms of effects. That it’s great for Kanaya to care, but that she should be able to divest herself and live on her own terms without idealizing Rose literally everywhere she looks, personal growth which would be useful in helping bring Rose back to her in the first place. The struggle they’re looking forward to is largely philosophical, not just physical, and until Rosebot acknowledges that she was wrong it’s not over.

DAVE: everything fuckin sucks huge cosmic donkey sack and im terrified KARKAT: OK, SO I FEEL LIKE YOU SKIPPED A COUPLE NECESSARY STEPS IN YOUR POINT CLARIFICATION PROCESS.

Pretty sure Dave was on the same page as most Epilogue and start-of-HS2 readers. This situation is pretty bleak to dump our heroes into, no matter how much we believe will be resolved in the long run.

DAVE: ok but were you going with sweet or savory please give me that much at least KARKAT: YEAH IT WAS GOING TO BE SUNDAE-BASED. DAVE: nice KARKAT: YEAH. KARKAT: DO YOU WANNA WATCH MORE GBBO AFTER THIS? DAVE: absolutely

--ah, Great British Bake-Off, can’t say I’ve indulged

do they still have that?? did they save it from old Earth? or did they go where unflooded Britain used to be and say hey, new show reboot

KARKAT: GREAT. ANYWAY, LIKE I WAS SAYING, FOR THE LOVE OF SWEET HUMAN CHRIST, PLEASE BACK UP TO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE ACTUALLY SCARED OF. KARKAT: ALSO COME HERE, IDIOT.

That last line is like, exactly as fucking sweet and awesome as we imagined their relationship to be. :)

> ==>

OH MY GOD THAT’S ADORABLE

DAVE: ok yeah this is a better position to unleash all my inner fears n anxieties from

indisputably.

DAVE: those times its like my mouth was saying words about the situation wherein our friends are AWOL and maybe dead but my brain wasnt fully letting me experience the emotion that goes along with them DAVE: man its like i cant even start genuinely thinking about how afraid i actually am for rose and john without my brain flippin its wad and whiting out DAVE: like haha fuck i hope theyre ok DAVE: now i better make a fuckin joke before i succumb to the gaping mouth of despair waiting for me to fall in it as soon as i look down and acknowledge that its there ogling how juicy my ass looks as it trembles with terror

I really hope that the writers of HS2 know full well that this feeling? the one Dave is describing here? is what many of us who got way overinvested in the well-being of Homestuck’s surviving characters felt reading the Epilogues and Homestuck^2. So I really hope they’re working through it in a way that will result in a preponderance of GOOD THINGS happening and hope-filled situations. Cause that “can’t even think about X” feeling is too familiar, and if they understand it as well as it LOOKS like they’re getting to, I’d really like them to give us a helping hand healing.

I think that’s what they’re going for? Seems hopeful for me to think so, but they HAVE been doing better as HS2 has been going forward, from an emotional standpoint anyway; definitely better than the Epilogues. And I’ve worked through some of that stuff with the help of that, because it’s MUCH easier nowadays to think about Homestuck without my gut clenching.

DAVE: i guess im just fucked up about how to worry about dirk and be angry at him at the same time DAVE: because if i get as unholy pissed at him as i sometimes wanna be i also gotta admit to myself that maybe i coulda done something different there

Mhmm, Karkat’s potentially a pretty good person to speak with here since he’s done so much work trying not to feel responsible for everything that’s ever gone wrong.

DAVE: also like DAVE: and this by the way adds a whole other layer of guilt on there that i dont really know how to fuckin reckon with but DAVE: even with all the shit hes pulled and the fact that we are more or less heading toward having to take him down DAVE: whatever that is gonna mean and whether or not he planned it like that DAVE: i just DAVE: me and him had come so far with each other and it was really cool for a while to have him and i DAVE: ugh DAVE: i dont WANT to hate him

Yeah, Dirk and Jane’s heel-turns were really shitty for anyone who was a fan of them in the fanbase, as well.

KARKAT: WELL THEN QUIT FUCKING PICKING AT THE SEAM ON MY SHORTS AND SPIT IT OUT. THEY'RE BARELY HANGING ON TO THE DEFINITION OF "SHORTS" AS IT IS.

That is an adorably real boyfriend-laying-in-boyfriend’s-lap thing to do

DAVE: the part i mentioned before about how we really have no goddamn clue how long this trip is even gonna take DAVE: i cant help but feel like its barely getting revved up DAVE: and for me and roxy and jade and callie and kan thats normal shit at best and boring at worst but we all have our immortality to thank for that DAVE: we can just dick around in space for near-eternity waiting to catch up to our friends who may or may not be our enemies now and itll be fine DAVE: i mean no itll be categorically miserable DAVE: but well survive it KARKAT: HOLD THE FUCK ON. DAVE: but you KARKAT: DAVE. DAVE: no lemme say this

Oh god damnit. Karkat’s limited lifespan. As if we hadn’t ALREADY covered a nauseatingly extensive gamut of disheartening topics of conversation. We really have to confront every shred of misery in their past, present and future one after the other after the other in the Epilogues and HS2, don’t we? >:(

I guess it had to be discussed, though.

DAVE: we dont talk about it much and i got shit to say about it DAVE: its not like i never thought about how youre mortal before but i just thought wed be able to figure it out before it mattered DAVE: come up with some kind of plan DAVE: i was just distracted being happy with you i fucking guess and so i didnt think up a way to fix it DAVE: and now thanks to dirk we have to work it out right the fuck now DAVE: because i cant spend this trip just sitting around watching you get old and die

Jesus. I mean, WE know(?) that it’s not gonna be THAT many years, but THEY don’t know that.

Unless it really IS going to be that many years and HS2 is going to shamelessly take a fucking sledgehammer to our feelings for no goddamn good reason. Which it won’t! Right??? >:T

> ==>

Dishwasher ding

> Dave: Grapple with the clean, soggy consequences of the passage of time.

Hey, don’t make it a metaphor here. --though, fuck. I suppose we are dealing with everyones dirty laundry. God damnit. SURE, deal with it all story but then GET IT OUT OF THE WAY AND PUT SOME SERIOUS FUN AND LAUGHS IN HERE so we don’t feel like we’re wading through an entire garbage dump!!! *click*

Karkat’s eyebrows-only mouthless frown is really cute.

> ==>

okay Karkat explain the nope you’re lodging

> ==>

*put*

> ==>

*foot*

> ==>

DAVE: ok go on

I mean I at least appreciate the time investment in adorable boyfriends. That’s definitely something of SOME good value they’re giving us in exchange for this misery

> ==>

That Karkat image makes me wanna do that red-shaky-gif-thing with it

KARKAT: IT'S NOT LIKE I'M NEW TO THE PARTICULAR MOOBEAST WRANGLING EVENT OF SOMEONE I PREVIOUSLY LOVED BRUTALLY TURNING ON ME AND LEAVING ME TO TRY AND CRAM MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE SITUATION BACK TOGETHER ALL ON MY OWN.

True

KARKAT: HE DID THAT ON HIS OWN. AND WE MADE THE CHOICE TO GO AFTER HIM ON OUR OWN.

Yes, and you’ll possibly convince him more of that over time, though not in this short conversation

KARKAT: I WAS FOLLOWING YOUR LITTLE TRAIL OF COOKIE CRUMB FEARS UNTIL IT LEAD TO THE BIG SNACK FINALE OF WORRY ABOUT MY FRAGILE MORTAL MEATSACK. KARKAT: IF I HAVE SOMEHOW NOT BEEN CLEAR ABOUT THIS WITH YOU YET, LET ME GO AHEAD AND RECTIFY THE SITUATION RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. KARKAT: HANGING OUT WITH YOU ON THIS LONG TRIP TO WHO THE SHITTING FUCK KNOWS WHERE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE HAPPIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY ENTIRE MEAGER EXISTENCE. KARKAT: I'M SO ABSOLUTELY BLISSED THE FUCK OUT OF MY MIND TO BE ABLE TO LOOK AT YOUR STUPID IMMORTALLY SMOOTH HUMAN FACE SKIN EVERY DAY AND NOT HAVE A COMPLEX ABOUT IT.

D’AWWW

And with that darkly angry expression too, that’s PERFECT

I mean it’s true. What exactly would they be doing DIFFERENTLY on Earth C other than enjoying each other like this? It’s pretty fucking great.

...hm. Isn’t this journey-not-the-destination stuff pretty Breathy? Karkat’s proving more balanced by the moment.

KARKAT: AND I'LL BE STRAIGHT WITH YOU. IT'S NOT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN EXPERIENCING SOME COMPLICATED GUILT, MYSELF. KARKAT: THE FACT THAT I'M HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE JUST FUCKING CHILLAXING AND BEING IN LOVE IN SPACE IS A CLEARLY INCONGRUOUS WITH THE REASON I'M ACTUALLY HERE CHILLAXING TO BEGIN WITH, AND I'M NOT LETTING MYSELF FORGET THAT, EITHER.

Pff. He feels guilty for ENJOYING IT so much. <3

KARKAT: BUT I RESENT THE IMPLICATION THAT MY HAPPINESS IS REGISTERING FOR YOU AS YOU HAVING TO JUST "SIT AROUND AND WATCH ME GET OLD," BECAUSE I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S MORE THAN THAT.

I’m glad Karkat knows that DAVE knows somewhere in him that it’s more than that, because yeah, if Karkat thought he DIDN’T know that at some level that’d be a reason to take MUCH MORE SERIOUS offense.

KARKAT: LIKE, JESUS, DAVE. YOU KNOW I'M AFRAID FOR YOU, TOO, RIGHT? KARKAT: OR DID YOU FORGET THE WHOLE HEROIC DEATH THING? KARKAT: I WORRY ABOUT LOSING YOU FAIRLY FUCKING REGULARLY.

Hah!!! Point taken. Karkat must view Dave as practically more fragile than HIM.

KARKAT: ONE: WE'VE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA THAT I REFUSE TO NOT ENJOY THIS SHIT WHEN I FINALLY FUCKING GET IT, NO MATTER HOW LONG IT MAY OR MAY NOT LAST. KARKAT: TWO: IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE DOING NOTHING. WE’RE MOVING. WE’RE WORKING. WE’RE HEADED SPECIFICALLY TO A PLACE WHERE WE WILL UNDOUBTLEDLY ENDURE YET MORE FUCKING HELLACIOUS PANWARPING TRAUMA. KARKAT: AND THREE: WE'RE DOING THAT BECAUSE WE HAVE FRIENDS WHO WE CARE ABOUT THAT NEED US. THAT IS OUR FOCUS, HERE. NOT OUR FEAR. IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE WE HAVE TO SAVE. KARKAT: SO DON'T FUCKING WORRY ABOUT ME, DAVE. I'M FINE.

Okay, this is great and wholesome. I am now retroactively GLAD that this topic got brought up. :)

> ==>

Dave is still afraid. There is a part of him that will always be, he thinks. He has accepted this about himself. There is another feeling coursing through him too, though. It’s something he's felt before, though never quite so intensely. He looks up at Karkat and understands, viscerally, the simple power his words have. They pump through Dave’s own body, alive and warm and true.

He wonders if Karkat realizes it, or if he’s just, as always, saying what he feels as he feels it. Dave doesn’t attempt to dissect it further. There will be time for that later.

Every really loving moment like this is sort of undercut by the fact that it’s also, in some senses, part of alt!Calliope’s narration and, by extension, her fanfiction.

EDIT 2: There's also either a hint to potential Blood powers or even an explicit Blood power use here that I didn't recognize. I'm leaning towards it's-laying-the-groundwork-for-future-use-of-Blood-powers-but-isnt-magical-in-this-case.

> ==>

Smooooch!

That was nice. Still gonna wait on doing any commentary til next time or a Bonus update or two, cause I’m beat. See y’all next time!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Breath and Blood #Light and Void

27 notes · View notes

dragonstoravens · 4 years ago

Text

Babylon Vol. 1: Thawing, Camaraderie, It Grows On You

[ID: a blue patterned banner with text reading “BABYLON.” End ID.]

(Considering the length of chapters 2, 3, and 4 compared to 1, Kit and I have decided to post them together. They go together in terms of plot as well, so it works best this way. Enjoy!)

READ ON WATTPAD HERE, HERE, AND HERE!

2. Thawing

[Unknown] Here are the blueprints for that idea I was talking about, with some existing externals for reference. Hopefully they can be of some use. T. Jericho.

That message had been sitting at the top of Trinity’s holoscreen for a couple of days now. It wasn’t as if he’d expected a response from this one-time mechanic whose friends most likely wanted him dead or maimed, but perhaps it spoke to the sad state of his social life that his work messages were overflowing with unread correspondence while his most recent personal message besides this one consisted of a single “here” from his sister a week ago. Trinity sighed, and switched over to his eyecam. Might as well get something done.

“Aw damn, missed one.” Azure glanced at her once-neglected messaging screen. Messages from Crim, Indigo, a few video links from Smalls and Perry, Turq asking about when ship-wide family dinner was so he could bake biscuits and an unusual number she hadn't seen before. She squinted at the unfamiliar sequence of numbers, trying to think who she had given her access number to that she didn’t remember. She opened the message and found herself grateful that businessmen were so formal to start with. It was eye-dude, following up on some small talk they’d had about her ideas for external monitors for people who were weird about doctor’s visits.

She glanced at the externals he sent and found herself typing wherever her console had space, recording a stream of consciousness. She hadn’t intended to treat his chatbox like a memo application on a personal holopad, but that’s exactly what she did. She thought out loud, drawing conclusions and asking questions all in the same long, uninterrupted paragraph, and hit send thinking it was a save button. Her thoughts were done, and she had already moved to begin work on a prototype, now that she had it all written out.

She was a little embarrassed and sent an apology a few moments later, once she realized what she’d done.

[Azure] sorry about the essay. lots to think on, not a lot of paper this side of a spaceship. thanks for the schematics.

[Azure] have a nice day!

She didn’t bother to sign it, seeing as he already knew who she was. He sent it first, after all.

Trinity was left with a note to self to disconnect messaging from his eye functions, technical words flickering in and out of his vision like sunspots, and a low level headache that somehow felt like a portent of things to come. One thing seemed certain, despite the little information he had to go on-- he was going to be hearing from Azure again. Often.

3. Camaraderie

Azure snickered as she sent the image off. It was a rare image of Trinity off of some trashy tabloid site, that she had edited to highlight the triangle he crook of his arm made with his body. The filename was “jericho_illuminati.img”, and she was proud of how shitty and outdated the joke was.

[Azure] So when were you going to tell me you decided the fate of galaxy politics centuries in advance?

And now it was a matter of time before his exasperated response.

[Jericho] You know it’s not polite to make fun of my boss.

It had only taken him a minute to answer. She’d caught him at a good time, then. Her smile widened.

[Azure] Consider, your boss is terrible. The worst.

She thought back to calling him a ladder climber upon their first meeting, and found herself grateful he didn’t think she was an asshole for being honest. It was nice to talk to someone above the books, who wasn’t on the run for whatever reason. The ship got lonely, with how closed off people were about some things. His companionship was becoming more valuable by the day.

[Jericho] Interesting opinion. But do you know what else is the worst?

Trinity followed this message with a picture of a model from the same tabloid, one they put on the same spread as Trinity, but with what looked like cargo pants shakily drawn over the swimsuit. The hair was scribbled over in bright red. It looked ridiculous.

[Jericho] Observe.

She smirked, muttering to herself.

[Azure] Asshole. My hair ain’t even that shade of red, and I’d never be caught dead in cargo pants.

[Jericho] It’s not as if I’ve seen you recently to confirm that. I’ll stick with the artist’s interpretation.

There was a beat, his icon indicating that he was still typing.

[Jericho] Heh. Azzhole.

[Azure] VERY original. Did you get that one from my brother when we were eight, or are you just very creative?

She found herself giggling quietly in her lab. It was so nice to just goof off. Turq poked his head in to make sure she hadn’t lost her mind. She waved him off.

[Azure] I gotta get back to actually working. Send me more stupid closeups from your eye, I wanna see how well the zoom extension is holding up in terms of image quality. Get real up close to something, I wanna see electrons.

[Jericho] Nerd. I will.

She was halfway through a message to call him an even bigger nerd, but decided that progress on the little pet project that his eye had become mattered a little more.

[Azure] The more unsuspecting the subject, the funnier

[Jericho] I’ll keep it in mind. Go do your work, I’m busy.

And with that, the blip marking him as active in the chat disappeared from the screen. She stuck her tongue out at it. That was one way to force her to get back to work, but she didn’t have to like it.

4. It Grows On You

“-I’m just sayin’, I think reroutin’ the sensors through a shorter path would make the energy consumption so much lower, it’d be worth the time cost to adjust.” Azzy was leaning on one arm of her chair, one leg over the back and the other leg over the opposite arm, looking up at a screen with some soundwaves wiggling around on it. Normally she’d have moved it to a vidcall, but Trinity had said he was busy, and like hell was she going to be TOO much of a distraction. He had shit to do, and technically so did she, but what was a half hour of downtime in the grand scheme of things when you lived at work?

“Yes, but if we’re thinking on a universal manufacturing scale, that’s adjustments in every prototype that would have to be done the exact same way. In the long term, the mechanic can’t oversee everything herself. Delegating is a bigger time cost than a simple design change.” Trinity was clearly in business mode, vague typing noises audible from his end even as he spoke.

“But you’re sacrificin’ a lot of power that way on the prototype itself. I thought the whole point was to be the best around.” She laughed and sat up a little bit, headset long discarded in favor of turning on her room’s soundproofing so she could hear more clearly. He didn’t say anything for a moment, his focus clearly on whatever it was he was working on and not her attempts to goad him into banter. “You always this overly focused on whatever the hell? Or are you usin’ it as an excuse to half ignore me? Bein’ a hotshot sounds like a lotta work if it’s the first one.” The word ‘hotshot’ stuck to her for some reason, and she changed his name in her messages. No one needed to know.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed!): @glitterandstarshine @rainbowcoloreddays @the-starlight-chills @erased-in-stone @charlottedotexe

General: @elywritesbydarkness @residentofthedisc @humour-and-hyperfocus @skyfirewrites

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #wip: babylon #babylon #chapter update #trinity

10 notes · View notes

louhooo · 5 years ago

Text

A Rainy Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Everyone loves coming home to a home cooked meal, especially if you love who made it.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Swearing, alluding to adult themes, FLUFF

A/N: Domestic!Bucky is my favorite Bucky and you can’t change my mind. Also, naming kids is hard so be gentle with me.

The soft patter of rain on the window lulled Bucky out of his sleep. The bed was soft, and warm, and smelt like you. He reached his hand across the bed, searching for your warmth, but was only met with emptiness. He patted his hand up and down the mattress, a frown growing on his face.

He finally accepted defeat and rolled over, only to see that it was, in fact, true.

You weren’t in bed with him.

His eyes drifted to the bathroom door in your bedroom, the slightest sliver of light peeking through. Bucky stretched as he sat up, squishing his toes into the soft rug under the bed. He stood and crept into the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His steps were purposefully heavier in the morning, a courtesy to you and your easily startled nature.

The door creaked open and his eyes landed on you as you rubbed lotion onto your face. Your eyes flashed to his and a soft grin spread on your face.

“G’mornin’, baby.” He grinned at your reflection, his flesh hand running across your back as he walked past you.

“G’mornin’.” Bucky lifted the toilet lid and proceeded to relieve himself. “You’re up early.” You arched a brow and turned your head to look at him.

“It’s Thursday.” His brows pinched and he looked over his shoulder at you. Was Thursday important? He couldn’t think of–

“Oh, right, yeah, you’ve got that presentation with Stark today.” You grinned at him amusedly and went back to getting ready. Sometimes Bucky made it difficult to not make any jokes about his old age. He finished up and went to the sink, caging you in between his arms as he washed his hands. The silk of your robe felt nice against his bare chest.

“Ya know it’s easier to do this if I move, right?” Bucky grinned into the crook of your neck and pressed both of your bodies against the edge of the vanity.

“You sure? I feel like I remember you saying you liked it better this way…” You crossed your eyes in the mirror, and a smirk danced on his lips.

“That was almost six years ago, James. I was young and didn’t know any better.” Bucky chortled, his breath fanning your neck. He finished washing his hands and stepped back, freeing you to finish getting ready.

Bucky picked up the hand towel and dried his hands, “I guess I’ll remember this the next time you do it.” You ignored his comment, but a small grin played on your face. He hung the towel back up and sat on the lip of the bathtub. “What’re you gonna wear?”

You pointed your head to the side, still focused on applying your concealer, “Just a black dress with a blazer. Last time I wore a ‘fun’ dress to one of these things, none of the board members listened to my opinions unless they came out of Tony’s mouth.” Bucky remembers that dress. It was yellow and picked up a little when he spun you around the kitchen.

“You remember their names?” You glanced at him and chuckled.

“I do, but I’m not telling you when you have the ‘murder stare’ goin’ in full force.” Bucky relaxed his face.

“No, I don’t.” You grinned and coated your lashes with mascara. Bucky sighed and wiggled his toes. “Want me to make dinner tonight?” You grinned and looked at him in the mirror.

“Do you need my help?”

“Nope. I’ve already got my sous chef. Two technically, but the other one kinda just watches. We keep them on staff for morale.” You giggled and turned around to face him, your hands resting back on the sink.

“Whatcha gonna make me?” Bucky motioned you closer until you were standing between his legs. He picked up your arms and wrapped them around his neck, his own going to rest on your hips.

“Any suggestions?”

“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You grinned dopily at one another, the feeling of dread creeping up in your thoughts at the idea of leaving to go to work.

“Boiled cabbage it is then.” Your nose turned up and Bucky’s chest rumbled with laughter. He heard the door down the hall creak open and he sighed contently.

“I’ll bring home dessert if you promise not to feed us anything that’s boiled.” He chuckled and nodded.

“Okay, I can agree to that.” You leaned in and kissed, your fingers interlacing into his hair.

“Might even have a dessert just for you, too,” you spoke against his lips. Bucky growled and squeezed you tighter.

“Mama?” Your lips disconnected –far too soon if you asked him– and you disentangled from Bucky.

“Good morning, baby,” you cooed while stepping towards Henry to pick him up. You hugged him to your chest and inhaling his hair. “How’d you sleep?”

“Why were you and daddy kissin’?” Bucky chuckled and stood up from the bathtub and kissed Henry’s cheek, brushing his curly brown hair back out of his face.

“’Cause daddy and mama like to kiss.”

“Why?”

“’Cause a lotta grown-ups do.”

“Why?”

“’Cause–”

“Bucky.” A mischievous smirk spread on his face as his eyes landed on yours. Your gaze shifted from him, back to the person in your arms. “How ‘bout dad takes you downstairs to eat breakfast so mama can finish getting ready?” Henry’s head shot up.

“Can–Can we have legos?!” You both grinned at him and Bucky nodded. You were sure that the amount of frozen waffles you bought a week was enough to keep the business running for, at least, another decade.

“Yes, we can have legos. Let’s go get your sister first.” Henry switched to Bucky’s arms and you watched your boys leave before returning to the sink to finish getting ready.

Bucky nudged open the door next to Henry’s and peered in to see Annalise standing in her crib with a big smile.

“Hi, baby girl,” Bucky smiled and felt the daily twang at his heart when she smiled back. He switched Henry to his metal arm, propping him on his hip as he reached in to grab Annalise. “You hungry, sweet pea?”

“Daddy, I wanna watch Paw Patrol.” Annalise snuggled into his side as he shuffled out of her room and down the stairs.

“Only for a little bit, okay?”

“For, like, five?” Henry held up his hand in front of Bucky’s face, making Bucky chuckle as he set him on the sofa.

“How ‘bout three fives?” Henry’s eyes went wide at the ten additional minutes. Bucky grabbed the remote and very carefully adjusted the settings until it was the one he needed. He still didn’t understand why there were so many buttons if he really only needed, at most, seven. The sound of Ryder directing the team of dogs filled the living room.

“Thanks, daddy!” Bucky grinned and left Henry to his own device as Bucky went into the kitchen to get breakfast started.

“Let’s get you changed and you can help make legos. Whadya say, little miss?” Big eyes stared up at him, giving him the same look you give when you aren’t ready to start the day. He kissed her cheek repeatedly, making her giggle, “I’ll take that as an ‘Okay, Daddy! Whatever you say, Daddy!’”

“I should be home by five, but I might be able to ditch out sooner.” You were racking your brain for an excuse as to why you should cancel going to the lecture today. And Bucky could tell.

A soft kiss to your forehead quieted your worries. “We’ll be fine, baby. Don’t worry so much.” A dubious, yet anxious look was cast his way, but he just grinned. “I promise.”

A small sniffle from Annalise sent your instincts into overdrive. “I think she’s got a cold. I should–”

“No,” he grabbed your black raincoat and bag and opened the door, “Go.” You stared at him and scoffed.

“James.”

“Y/N,” he parroted back. The silent stare down lasted another minute before you sighed and gave in, accepting your purse and coat into your hands. “I will take as many pictures as I can, and I promise a two hour nap from everyone in the house.” Your shoulders schlumped and you nodded.

“Videos, too.”

“Videos, too,” he nodded. You took a deep breath and kneeled to kiss Henry and Annalise.

“Bye, babies. Mom will be home tonight, okay?”

“Okay, bye, mama, I love you!” A quick peck, and Henry zoomed off to find something more exciting than his sappy mother, who seemed to cry at everything lately. Annalise clung to your neck when you went to kiss her, so you stood, hugging her tightly. Bucky let you stand there for a while until it looked like your grip was only tightening.

“Okay, sweet pea, mama’s gotta go. Give her a kiss and tell her ‘bye’.”

Annalise pulled back and kissed your lips, “Bye, mama. I wuv you.” You gave a pitiful look to Bucky who only shook his head gently. He took your daughter and tucked her into his side as he kissed you.

“Good luck today, baby. I love you.” You sighed and rubbed your baby’s cheek and then husband’s jaw.

“Thanks. I’ll call you on my lunch. I love you, too.” A few more sentiments were exchanged before he finally got you out the door. Bucky glanced down at Annalise.

“Should we go get your brother and get dressed?”

“Can we go to the park today? Mama said we could go to the park today.” Bucky came into the living room and plopped onto the couch beside Henry, Annalise still in his arms.

“That was last night, honey. We didn’t think it would rain today.”

“Can we go if it stops raining?” He batted his lashes and Bucky sighed.

“If it stops raining, we can go.” Henry cheered, and Annalise joined in just to copy her brother. “But before we do anything, we all have to get dressed and clean up the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“Because you and your sister are gonna help make dinner tonight to surprise mom.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a nice thing to do and it’ll make mom happy.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky exhaled, “No. I’m not falling into that trap again.” He stood up and held out his hand for Henry, “Up and at ‘em.” Henry stood on the sofa and Bucky scooped him up.

“Who’s Adam?” Bucky chuckled and walked everyone upstairs. Henry was deposited at his door, left in charge of getting himself dressed, and Bucky went to change Annalise. Once Annalise was dressed in a pair of black stretchy pants and a rainbow t-shirt, Bucky left her alone to quickly get himself dress. Had he of know Steve’s strict routines on the team would have only prepared him for having kids, he wouldn’t have complained as much.

Two minutes later, Bucky was dressed in jeans and a grey Henley, with his hair pulled back. He peeked in on Henry, who had on shark swim trunks and a Christmas sweater.

“Henry?” He hummed and looked over his shoulder. “What’re you wearing?”

“Clothes,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I see that. But you can’t wear swim trunks, bud. It’s too cold out and we aren’t going swimming.” Henry pinched his eyebrows together and stared off into the distance to think.

“Well, can I wear them if it’s warm outside?”

“Sure. For now, let’s wear long pants.” Bucky reached into his dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and handed them to Henry. “Do you need help?”

“No, I can do it.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get your sister.” Bucky stood in the door way, just out of sight, and watched as Henry struggled with pulling the trunks off. He was getting ready to step in and help, when his leg was finally freed and the trunks were thrown into the dirty clothes basket. Bucky grinned and opened Annalise’s door only to see her hair was out of its ponytail and was stark nude. She smiled up at him and continued to play with her blocks oblivious to the inner turmoil her dad was currently going through.

When everyone was dressed (again), Bucky put everyone into rain boots and rain coats and loaded them into the car. A dinner can’t be made without ingredients, after all.

The racecar grocery cart was wheeled out– the blue one goes faster, ya know? – and both kids crawled into the car to “drive” it.

The saying, “Don’t go grocery shopping hungry,” should have an addendum: “Or with small children who are tall enough to reach the junk food.” Each trip down an aisle only added more unnecessary snacks into the cart, that he was only made aware of at checkout when he put three boxes of fruit snacks on the conveyor belt.

Henry watched bashfully from behind the steering wheel and Bucky gave him a “dad look” and explained to the cashier that he wasn’t buying any of the fruit snacks to prove a point. Which sucked because the dinosaur one’s were Bucky’s favorite.

The groceries were carried out to the car and Bucky buckled everyone in for the drive home.

“It’s not raining, so can we go to the park now?” Bucky looked at Henry through the rearview mirror.

“Not right now, bub. We’ve got cold stuff that can’t sit out for too long.” Bucky’s heart broke as he watched Henry’s face drop. “But, hey! If it’s not raining after we make dinner and have lunch, we can go and have naps later.”

“Mama said we had to take naps today, though.”

“We will, just a different time than usual. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, daddy.” Maybe Bucky should have gotten the fruit snacks. No. That exact line of thinking was got him banned from grocery shopping last month. Then he had to suffer with the “healthy snacks” you insisted on buying. Yuck.

Bucky caved when they got home, and everyone got an Oreo before they started to make dinner. Henry and Annalise were both in giggles when he told them not tell mom, that it was a “secret treat.” He took a video at Henry’s insistence.

Hot Stuff: It’s supposed to be a secret, but… [video attached]

My Girl: OH MY BABIES!! LOOK AT THEIR CUTE FACES!! 🥺

After their faces and hands were washed, Bucky got everything out that they needed to make lasagna. It was his ma’s recipe, and it was one of your favorites. He got a pot of water boiling and held Henry so he could help put the uncooked noodles in. Annalise lost interest when it came to helping cut the vegetables in the food chopper, instead opting to play with the plastic containers in the bottom shelf.

“Mama’s gonna love that I helped, isn’t she?” Henry loved impressing his mom just as much as Bucky did. He grinned at him.

“She sure is, bub. She might even make you cook all of our meals!” Henry’s eyes went wide.

“But I can’t touch the stove! Or-or use a knife!” Bucky winked at him.

“I’ll help ya out.” Henry giggled and leaned against Bucky’s leg, the fatigue of waiting for the dinner to be ready starting to kick in. “Okay, now we just have to put it together, and it’ll be ready for the fridge.” Bucky set him on the counter showed Henry what order the layers went. Annalise, not appreciating being left out, tugged on Bucky’s jeans until he picked her up and she “helped”, too.

The pan was covered in tin foil and placed in the fridge, and pots and pans were set in the sink to wash. PB & J’s were made and the Barnes’ sat at the kitchen table and ate it happy chaos. After everyone was washed up again, and dressed back in their outer gear, a loud crack erupted outside. Bucky opened the door and the three of them watched as it started pouring rain. The tears followed, next.

Your phone started ringing and you grinned at the name. You answered the FaceTime and were met with a wall of tears, your grin dropping immediately. Bucky sat in front of the computer, looking slightly frazzled with both kids in his arms, both sobbing.

“Hey, what happened?” You soothed, shutting your office door so the sound was contained. 

“We were getting ready to go to the park, but it started to rain.” You closed your eyes and sighed. Bucky pointed his head to Annalise, “This one’s just tired.”

“Mom shouldn’t have said anything last night, huh?” Bucky raised his brows and you sighed again. “Henry, baby, can you look at mom?” He sniffled and turned his head towards the screen, still partially tucked into the security of his dad’s neck. “I’m sorry it started raining, that really stinks.” Henry nodded his head, his bottom lip still trembling. “Here, let me check on my computer and we’ll see how long it’s gonna last.” You quickly pulled up the weather and looked at the radar. You grimaced.

“Does tomorrow look better for the park?” The look on your face said ‘no’.

“Oh! Look at that! Sunday it’s supposed to be 75 and sunny! That’ll be a perfect day to go to the park!”

Henry sniffled and turned more towards the screen. “How many until Sunday?”

“Well, today’s Thursday, but it’s halfway done, so we’ll only count half of it. And then there’s tomorrow, then Saturday, then it’s Sunday.” Henry pinched his brows, trying to calculate a timeframe he still didn’t quite understand.

“And if it’s gonna be nice on Sunday, we can pack a picnic and eat at the park so there’s more time to play. How’s that sound?” Henry looked up at Bucky and played with the collar of his shirt. Annalise shifted and snuggled further into Bucky’s neck, her crying having worn her out. A quiet ‘okay’ was mumbled and you and Bucky sighed in relief.

The call lasted a few more minutes before Tony interrupted and stole you away. You blew three kisses and said goodbye, disconnecting the call.

Bucky took both kids upstairs, setting Henry on the rocking chair in Annalise’s room while he changed her diaper and laid her down. He kissed her goodnight and she rolled over, snuggling with her stuffed animal. He lowered the lights and carried Henry out and had him go to the bathroom before tucking him into his own bed. Bucky brushed his hair back and kissed him goodnight.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, bub?”

“Can you lay with me?” How could he say no to that? Bucky grinned and shut off the lights before lying next to Henry. He laid on his flesh arm, tracing his small fingers up and down the gold lines on his metal arm. Henry’s breathing started to soften and he fell asleep, his hand still on his dad’s arm. The steady rhythm of the ceiling fan made Bucky’s eye’s feel heavier and heavier, until he stopped fighting the urge and settled into his own sleep.

After they woke up and all snuggled on the couch, Bucky placed the lasagna in the oven and took the kids outside to play. It had stopped raining, and just because they couldn’t go to the park, didn’t mean they couldn’t play outside.

They all took turns jumping into puddles, and Henry was fascinated with all of the worms that made their way to the driveway during the rain. Neither kid wanted anything to do with them when Bucky asked if they wanted to hold one, but once he held one in his hand, they both were okay with that arrangement.

You texted him that you were on your way home, and were stopping at the bakery to get dessert. Bucky reminded you that he was promised his own dessert and you replied with a winking emoticon that made him smirk at his phone.

You pulled into the driveway twenty minutes later and were greeted with hugs and kisses from your welcoming crew. Henry wanted to know all about what you and Uncle Tony talked about today, and Annalise didn’t want to let you go (even when you needed to use the bathroom). When Bucky pulled the pasta dish out of the oven, you gasped and walked further into the kitchen.

“Lasagna?” You turned to look at Henry, who stood eagerly waiting for your reaction. “Did you make this?” Henry nodded enthusiastically.

“I did! Daddy said we were his ‘Soup Chefs!’ I did most of it though, Annie just played.” You laughed and bent over to kiss his cheek.

“That’s okay! I’m glad that you helped dad. I bet it tastes delicious.” Henry nodded, very assured that his creation was going to be the best thing you’ve ever had.

“Okay, Henry, go wash your hands.” He left to go use the sink in the bathroom and Annalise wiggled until you set her down to join her brother. You grinned and walked up behind Bucky as he washed his own hands, wrapping your arms around his waist. He chuckled, “Now, this feels familiar....” You laughed and rested your cheek on the muscles of his back. You only had another minute before you’d have to go stop the kids from playing with the water, so you enjoyed the moment.

“I love you.” Bucky grinned and lifted up his arm for you to move under it, your arms still wrapped around his waist. He kissed your lips and hummed.

“I love you, too.” You gave another peck and untangled from him to gather up Henry and Annalise for dinner. “Where’re my sous chefs? We gotta cut this lasagna!” Innocent giggles erupted from the bathroom and you smiled and helped the kids dry their hands.

No one seemed to love fatherhood more than Bucky. He loved the sticky fingers on his face, and the constant calls for you or him when it was bedtime and the kids “needed just one more kiss.” He even loved (it took him an hour to get there) when Annalise got ahold of purple glitter and dumped it all on the cream carpet in the living room. He was still finding glitter six months later, and it always made him chuckle.

You’d wait until he was sitting to tell him he’d have a third sous chef early next year. Hopefully he wouldn’t faint like the last two times.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky x Y/N #Bucky x You #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes #Dad!Bucky

358 notes · View notes

sylvanfreckles · 4 years ago

Text

Day One: Candlelight

Welcome to the Twelve Days of Fictmas! Every day until Christmas Eve we’ll have a new story in a different fandom, just to celebrate being together at the end of a very long year.

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Summary: It had started as Connor’s first Christmas, but things still aren’t perfect back at the precinct and someone has set out to ruin the experience for him. Ben steps in to the rescue...after all, it’s also Connor’s first Hanukkah.

(This is in the same universe as my other story “Critical Components”, and connects to a long story I’ve been working on for the new year)

(First attempt at writing something for Hanukkah. I grew up with just Christmas so I don’t know much about other traditions, but I would love to learn, so please feel free to comment on or correct anything I could have done better.)

* * *

The ambiance of Jimmy's Bar settled around Hank like an old, familiar coat. He'd been avoiding this place since the Revolution, seeking out android-friendly establishments instead. Not that Connor or the other androids ever came out drinking with him, but he wanted to show his support any way he could. But then he'd found out Jimmy had peeled that damn “No Androids” sign off his door three days ago (probably missing the regular business from the precinct) so Hank decided to check the place out.

It was pretty much the same as always, but Hank caught sight of a blue LED at one of the booths, as well as a few non-human drinks on the menu. It wasn't much but, hell, after the last month and a half of shit it was something.

He nursed his single beer (still had to drive home...and Connor would be right up his ass if he got behind the wheel intoxicated) and idly watched Jimmy's movements around the bar. He knew Jimmy had been pressured by the property owner to put that damn sticker on the door, so maybe it wasn't so surprising he'd torn it off the first chance he got. Android equality wasn't quite a law just yet but it seemed like only a matter of time, and there were plenty of businesses ready and willing to let old prejudices go.

Hank's phone chirruped with an incoming text and he let out a groan before tugging his phone out of his pocket. The precinct Christmas party was tonight, and Hank just wasn't feeling it. Not the non-alcoholic eggnog, not the “dirty Santa” gift exchange, not spending hours of his free time with the same assholes he got paid to be around. Now he'd forgotten to silence his phone and one of those jackasses was texting to ask where he was. Connor should have explained it.

He had his reply all planned out, but pulled up short when he saw the actual picture. He poked and prodded at his phone, pinching at the screen to zoom in, trying to decipher what he was seeing.

It was Connor's desk, and it was covered in...crap. Baby crap, specifically. There was some kind of garland that spelled out “Baby's First Christmas” draped over his monitor, and there were bibs and onesies and shit with the same kind of crap on them. Half his desk was taken up with little jars of baby food and a couple of bottles, his phone had been replaced with a cheap toy phone, and perched on the lamp was a tiny Santa hat with Connor's name embroidered on the band. A baby-sized Santa hat.

Connor didn't want to tell you but I thought you should know. Ben's taking him home.

Hank's eyes flicked up to see that Chris had sent him the messages. Well, shit, that was even worse. Chris had given Connor a gift earlier today—said Connor needed something special for his first Christmas. It wasn't tacky or childish like all this crap, just a candid photo of Connor his first day back at the DPD that Chris had put in a little brass frame. The frame just had the year engraved on it, nothing more, but apparently that was enough to set off some dipshit.

He okay? Hank typed back.

He went all Stepford and said practical jokes are an important part of team integration.

Hank swore. Practical jokes were when Tina kept changing the height of Connor's chair to see if he noticed, or when someone kept putting badly-written android erotica novels in the drawers of his desk. Not shit like this. Not lacing the station's supply of thirium with antifreeze, or destroying the clothes in his locker (the kid only owned like three things, come on), or “testing” a taser on Connor at a fucking crime scene.

But of course Connor just kept making excuses. He put on that fake smile, the one Chris and Tina started calling the Stepford after that old movie, and try to bullshit up some positive reaction. Hank was almost certain none of his people were doing the really malicious stuff—not even Gavin. He was a prick, sure, but he wouldn't screw around at an active crime scene. And Connor wasn't the only android at the station, so screwing around with the thirium supply affected a good portion of the workforce.

Hank threw back the last of his beer and tossed a couple bills on the counter before weaving his way through the rest of the crowd of customers out into the cold night. Damn. They'd been hoping things were getting better now that the android was a more familiar face around the precinct. Connor wasn't technically back on the force yet, though Hank was sure it was just a matter of time. He'd been hired on as an independent consultant, which still meant no badge and no gun but at least he was there.

He just wished the kid wasn’t facing an uphill battle just to be accepted.

Ben's car was still there when Hank pulled up. Hank felt something inside him loosen up at that—at least Connor hadn't been home alone stewing over that stupid-ass prank. He tugged his coat closed and trudged his way through the slushy snow to the door, fully expecting to find the two of them on the couch with an old movie playing on the TV.

Instead, he was met with the sound of sizzling oil and the smell of fried potatoes as soon as he opened the door.

“Okay, just flip it...just like I showed you,” Ben's voice echoed out from the kitchen.

There was a faint scraping sound, then the louder sizzle of something frying. “Good! That's perfect, Connor.”

Hank shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the peg behind the door. “Connor? Ben?”

The other man leaned his head out of the kitchen, the apron over his dark shirt splattered with flour. “Hey, Hank! Welcome home.”

“The hell's all this?” Hank asked, stopping to scratch Sumo behind the ears as he crossed the living room to get to the kitchen.

“Well, we thought it was high time to pass on a few old traditions,” Ben said, waving one hand toward Hank's table. There was a table runner laid out across the scarred wood, something deep blue with white and silver embroidery. And a nine-branched candlestick—a Menorah, Hank realized. The candle in the center was burning, as was the one on the far right side.

That's right. Ben was Jewish. So, what, they skipped the Christmas party so Ben could teach Connor about Hanukkah?

Hank settled into one of the kitchen chairs and just stared for a minute. Ben was wearing an obnoxiously colorful apron, one that was styled to look like those ugly Christmas sweaters you found everywhere. Hank knew that apron. That was what Connor had picked out to bring to the party for the gift exchange. As for Connor...he had on one of those over-sized striped hats with the big felt elf ears, plus matching slippers on his feet. The slippers had pointed toes. The pointed toes had bells.

“I'll repeat the question,” Hank said as he watched Connor stare at something in a frying pan. “What the hell is all this?”

“Ben's teaching me to make latkes,” Connor explained. He glanced over his shoulder for a moment and Hank stifled a laugh at the smear of flour on the android's chin.

“Christmas parties are overrated,” Ben announced, running a hand down the front of his apron. “I think these are ready, kiddo.”

As Connor hesitantly poked at the latkes in the frying pan while Ben held out a plate, Hank leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Hey, Ben, where's the dreidel?”

“Don't be stupid,” Ben called back. “We've got seven more nights, I'm not bringing out all my secrets on the first night...hang on, do you have a double boiler?”

“A what?” Hank accepted the ginger ale Connor handed him, and the plate with a single latke on it. “What the hell is that and why would I have one?” He bit into the latke, savoring the taste of crispy fried potato. Ben had invited him to a family Hanukkah dinner once, a long time ago, and his grandmother had been the one frying the latkes that night. Ben had obviously inherited her recipe.

“Well, we gotta make some gelt if you wanna play with the dreidel, Hank. It's tradition.”

Hank took a swig of ginger ale to wash down the last bite of his latke and watched Connor carefully placing more dough in the frying pan. “I thought you just spun the thing for laughs.”

Ben snorted. “That's 'cause you're an ignorant savage.”

“Damn straight!” Hank lifted his ginger ale in toast as Ben laughed. “So. What's gelt and why do I need that boiler thing?”

Connor's LED spun twice and he turned just enough to look at Ben .”Chocolate...money?”

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Ben laughed. He patted Connor on the shoulder and dragged one of the kitchen chairs over next to him—close enough to be on hand if the android needed help cooking, but clearly settling down to tell a story. “You can buy it in stores, but my grandmother always insisted we make it at home....”

Hank rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand as Ben told Connor about his family and their traditions. Slowly, the peace of the room settled into him as the smell of potatoes, the sizzle of oil, and the warmth of candlelight washed away the frustration from the hazing Connor was getting at work.

They could deal with that tomorrow. Tonight they all deserved a little peace.

* * *

Master List - Day Two

#detroit become human #ben collins #connor #hank anderson #angst #fluff #friendship #hanukkah #ben collins is jewish #ben is a good friend #connor is being bullied #twelve days of fictmas 2020

3 notes · View notes

curious-minx · 4 years ago

Text

Denis Leary is making an animated vignette series based on Dogs Playing Poker and 10 Other Pieces of Kitsch Art That Should Be Turned Into TV

KITSCH auction house tremors and stampedes.

Dennis Leary basically discovered sex, drugs and rock n’ roll with his 2015 two season FX series Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll. Leary’s always been one of those guys that can’t be beaten down in spite of how dopey and cynical his edgy working class personal brand is. He’s got an entire deal set up with Fox, the flailing broadcasting company has placed all of their chips on a Denis with only one lousy “N” in his name. I can’t even with this fake Irish Bostonian droid. Relish in the delicate thought process of Leary and leftover former Daily Show producer, Jim Margolis, bringing up a Pinterest screen grab of the Dogs Playing Poker by Grand Master of Kitsch Cassius Marcellus Coolidge and money signs popping out of both of their heads. Here is a dramatic retelling of this thought process:

“Yo, get this Big D,” salivates the recently fired from Netflix Jim Margolis to Leary over a Zoom, “Fox got this Bento Box Animation Studio sitting around doing nothing but churning out animated interstitials for the Masked Singer, Paradise PD, The Prince, The Blues Brothers animated series, animated Harold And Kumar, Housebroken, The Great North, and ugh..um..Hoops..”

“I fuckin love Hoops, Jimmy! Why aren’t we pitching this on Netflix again?”

“Because Dogs Playing Poker is going to work so much better as pregame filler for live Sporting Events...on Fox.”

“Oh yeah. All of those rotten good for nothing grease monkey and lunch pail people will probably be giving each other Budweiser flavored Covid at the local saloon with these damn dog pictures hanging up. It’s like when old drunks would stay out late and watch the Flinstones at the bar, did you know that actual human male adults would sit in a town like Boston and waste away in a bar watching Flintsones. Can you believe that Johny?”

“My name is Jimmy, err Jim, but yeah Denis we’ll send you the scripts over. Any idea who we should cast?”

“Get me the hot blonde from Inspector Gadget 2, God dammit I miss Louie..are we sure we can’t get Louie back on air?”

“Afraid after Patton Oswalt dognapped his role from him in Secret Life of Pets, Louie CK has been banned from ever appearing as a talking dog again.”

“So bogus. Bobby Kelly will have to do.” Denis gets a text. “Dammit, Adam is getting all thirsty for this juicy delicious bone. Gotta throw a big bone to my dog Ferrera. Who else?”

“Ok. I’ll get one of those sad Daily Show losers. Um picking one at random, Roy Wood Jr. They’ll pretty much jump into anything, because John Oliver was in Love Guru they start thinking they can fail their way up.”

“I said no politics at the table! Paws off the table! This is going to be so fucking lit!”

////

Kitsch Art deserves so much more. George Lucas, retired American filmmaker, robber baron of childhoods and all around mensch has been heavily invested in the kitsch art of Norman Rockwell. There are a bounty of stories to tell. Too many of them are far too white and basic, but there are rich narratives to be found in his out of date even for his own time romanticism of The Old Masters. Hopelessly out of date could have been a failing of Rockwell, but his politics grew progressive as his career went on and fought against the system. Cassius Marcellus Coolidge is the man that operated the first bank in Antwerp, New York had the astronaut-like grace to wonder, “what if dogs played poker like people played poker?” A painting that dates back to 1894 used as means to sell cigars. What strikes me most about this painting is that they aren’t wearing clothes, but I bet when you try to imagine the painting you imagine these dogs fully decked out in some sort of work coat. There is a further anthropromized version of the ad called “His Station and Four Aces” that depicts a glimpse at a look at an entire canine furry society. His ideas of putting an animal in clothes remains to this day one of the most novel and surefire commercially friendly means of artistic expression. The original cynical man laughing all the way to the bank, his own bank that he founded to boot.

Seen above: An example of a Comic Foreground that also demonstrates the failings of having too few people in your party to properly partake in the comic foreground experience.

“Cash” Cassius wasn’t the first man to imagine a domestic pet in people clothes, but he’s probably one of the few to do so with such commercial finesse. The man also at one point filed the patent on the “Comic Foregrounds,” which is the technical name of one of those carnival boards with holes to stick your head in. In post Covid times how many more heads will be salivating and rushing towards those holes to pop their heads in to create a lasting memory, if only for a second. So when I start learning more about this remarkable weirdo Cassius Coolidge, a man according to his official website dogsplayingpoker.com’s Biography: “Trying to chase mischievous boys from an abandoned house, he fell from a window and hurt his knee, leaving him injured for the rest of his life.”

Flash forward back to 2021 and Denis Leary and his career a man with a wikipedia with fun entries about all the accusations of plagiarism and hate speech against autism I start to worry about the legacy of more Kitsch art falling into the hands of other greedy and desperate TV executives. That being said if you are a greedy TV executive who happens to be a maniac that likes reading rando’s tumblr pages do I have a list for you!

TOP TEN PIECES OF KITSCH ART THAT SHOULD BE TURNED INTO SOME KIND OF SOMETHING

“We Are Having a Heavenly Time” Columbian Bike Monkey and Parakeet by, once again, Cassius Coolidge

Coolidge’s anthropomorphic foresight strikes again! This time he effortlessly establishes a captivating duo that could be easily voiced by an endless combination of celebrity voice actors. PAUL RUDD as “Monkey” and ISSA RAE as “Parakeet” present “We Are Having a Heavenly Time” present a travel show. You could basically use whatever leftover footage you have lying around from the many Conan O’Brien segments and plug Monkey and Parakeet and their trusty bicycle anywhere for an irreverent glimpse into the foreign World around us.

2. “Clown and The Girl” by Haddon Sundblom

Now I know what you’re thinking, that title is miserable! I agree, but with a little reverse engineering you get The Girl and Clown, which could be a whole new addition to the Girl on a Train, Girl with a Dragon Tattoo, Girl with a Dangly Earpiece, the Girl-Verse! The girl appears to be quite fearless of this clown, which is good because we need someone to be brave for when the clown takes off his mask.

Sundblom is also the original artist for the Coke a cola Santa Claus and how is it that we have gone this many rotations around the sun without a single Coke a cola Santa Claus special is the real reason why Christmas will always be the saddest time of year.

3. “Clean Your Fornasetti” based around the artistic Plate collection of Pierro Fornasetti

Muk bangs, videos of people eating are a huge cyber traffic boom. People love watching people eat. Why not add the element of surprise by what kind of playful Fornasetti chanteuse is hiding underneath this plate full of gruel? Fornasetti is an artist with over 11,000 items created in his name and over 500 of them are based around a variety of expressions of a single woman. Clean Your Fornasetti is a deep and poetic rumination of the romance between the act of someone cleaning their plate and the reveal that the plate contained a visual feast all its own.

4. “Mickey’s Kinkade Playhouse” by the one and only Thomas Kinkade

The Kinkade Studios features over 63 “narrative panoramas” featuring Disney characters, but largely Mickey and Minnie, simply vibing. It’s time we stop pretending that small children like Mickey Mouse and market him for wistful older audiences that want to radiate in a nice long warm bath of color and sound. I am not sure I am even pitching an actual series but more of a Narrative Panoply. One thing that is missing from Disney Plus, and streaming services in general, is a severe lack of programming frills and flourishing. The iconic Adult Swim bumps are something completely lost to the dustbins of programming history left to remain in youtube compilations. Thomas Kinkade is a lot like Enya. Art critics treated him like a comedic punching bag for so long, but I doubt there’s an artist that grasps the kind of sterile enchantment people want after a long day of opioid benders. We’re all trapped inside doing puzzles why not do the bare minimum of slightly animating a pleasant scene of Mickey and Minnie roasting marshmallows or enjoying a breath of fresh Alpine air?

5. “Dust Lickers” by Odd Nerdrum

Quick! Get me Trash Humpers’ Harmony Korine on the Line Show him Shit Rock! The world of Odd Nerdrum is a harsh and primeval one that would make for an astonishing animated landscape. Odd Nerdrum himself feels like a worthy subject of some kind of documentary based around his imagery and insistence on making his art in the most arcane and old fashioned methods possible. Once again, maybe the visual world of Odd Nerdrum may not make for a full on narrative series, but once again would make for one hell of an animated segment.

6. “Homemade Pasta” by John Currin

A cozy Queer slice of life cooking drama based around the two charming fellows of John Currin’s Homemade Pasta scene. A series of vignettes based around the completely unfabulous and domestic version of bliss that was denied many people as a result of the AIDS crisis. You can’t tell me you don’t see those two nice guys getting cozy and making pasta together and you aren’t dying to see how they go about rolling out their own focaccia bread.

7. “The Velvet Elvis” by the Collective Conscious

David Lynch at one point in time was trying to crack into making his own Elvis biopic. I think it’s pretty safe to say that the age of a public wanting a David Lynch directed Elvis biopic has probably passed, but that does not stop Velvet art enthusiasts. TheVelvetStore.com is featuring a remarkable promo that could really bump up what a David Lynch Elvis movie could be like and the horror of having one’s soul trapped inside of a Velvet Elvis rendition painting seems like a pretty fertile place to begin a proper story about Elvis in America.

8. “Big Eye Bunch” by Margaret Keane

Yes, it was only a matter of time before Ms. Big Eyes herself, Queen of Kitsch, Margaret Keane would come up on a list like this. Tim Burton tried and sort of kind of captured what it so endearing about Keane’s work, but I think a fully animated dive into an orphanage full of sad Big Eye kids that time travel and meet other Big Eyed children version of historical figures is a Big Idea that could make a whole new generation keen on Keane.

9. “Banality” by Jeff Koons

An animated series based around the artistic sensibilities of Jeff Koons would be a tricky affair, but just the kind of gaudy whimsy that someone like Michel Gondrey could use to proper effect. A series based around someone trying to steal the fifteen million dollar Michael Jackson statue would also be appropriate.

10. “Groovenians reboot” by Kenny Scharf

Scharf is the only artist on this list that actually was a kitsch artist that caught the attention of early aughts adult swim. A tv show that only features the artistic sensibilities of Scharf but also a voice acting cast that consisted of Paul Reubens, Rupaul, Vincent Gallo, and Dennis Hopper. There’s also a theme song performed by the B-52s and musical direction by Devo’s Mark Mothersbaugh. One of the only known published reviews of the pilot describe the show as needing mind altering substances to enjoy and that it is essentially like “watching a cartoon reflected off of a funhouse mirror. This is basically a description of the modern tik tok addled twitchy type content that makes a killing on the Internet for millenial and zoomer types. Basically the whole aesthetic of a warped and broken looking cartoon is the exact sort of thing weirdos deep diving at youtube at four in the morning are looking for and seeing that this gets a failed pilot and Denis Leary’s Dog Poker vignettes get greenlit is exactly what’s wrong with the world.

4 notes · View notes

the-headbop-wraith · 4 years ago

Text

3 _ 41 _ The Land Time Forgot

Part 3

Late the following morning (no one set an alarm aside from Mystery, and he kicked it off the nightstand) the Mystery Skulls arrived back on the scene of the Fanatical Hypes ™ theme park. The group splint into two, with Vivi and Mystery hitting up an information desk, and scheduling a meet with Mr. Klayton. While she went in to establish the meeting, Arthur and Lewis jammed off to scope around. The main priority of the latter group was get a feel for the general mood of the park, and as usual, keep track of the staff performing mundane services. For this specific case, pay special attention to character actors doing meet-and-greets.

Arthur and Lewis returned to the district where they first encountered the Allosaur, but likely by morning and the park opening, the reconstruction staff had the demolished perimeter repaired totally. Covered up, and not much evidence left in the open for documentation.

The fences were replaced, the hedges and shrubs trimmed back to conceal the shredded branches. Nothing was left for the curious, aside from some footprints in the soil, likely to entice the fascination of a child exploring around.

“Well shit.”

“Language.”

Arthur grumbled to himself as he gnawed on his powdery funnel cake. “It wasn’t like there was much else to check out, anyway.” He followed Lewis, who was leading the way while he leaned hard on aimlessness; distracted by his second breakfast. “Y’think we should check out the attraction in the daylight? Ride it, see if Allo is on the prowl?”

This wasn’t his first choice, it was last on the list. But the list was short, and he was a bit lethargic from the sugar dump and not invested in running cross country over the Ages Gone district. He did rationalize the Allosaur wasn’t present in the ride, if it was damaged the night before – he didn’t see how much – the Allosaur might be decommissioned for repairs. He didn’t want to be a drag on the case, either, even if he wasn’t invested in getting chased top of the morning out of the attraction first thing. Better than putting it off until nightfall, when the creep factor spiked one-hundred percent.

The closed sign was still up, and no lines gathered at the entrance of the Land Time Forgot ride.

“I can turn it on,” he mentioned.

Lewis paused to examine the entrance. “Naw. We should head over to HQ, and meet with Vivi and Mystery. How’s the cake?”

“Hmm.” Arthur shrugged. “Not as good as the ones your Mamma makes.” Lewis smirked. “At least, the ones not sabotaged by heaty spicy.” This got a laugh out of Lewis.

“Every time, I warn you not to leave your food unattended.”

Arthur choked on powdered sugar. “S’not my fault, she’s so crafty!” He tore off a bit of the cake and passed it over.

“No contest?” he prompted, as Lewis nibbled.

“Mmm. Es un poco decepcionante. Then again, it doesn’t have the same fragrance.”

“Ever the connoisseur of pastries and spicies.” Arthur fell in step with Lewis. “if we’re lucky, maybe the thing blew a fuse and fell into one of the lakes.”

An estimated time was set for meeting up with Vivi and Mystery at the main security office, and the central headquarters for the Fanatical Hypes ™. She had to make her way to HQ, after checking in with information and securing a bit of time with Mr. Klayton. The hoops and hurtles took time, and at best was a ‘hurry up and wait’ scenario.

“Everything looks normal,” Lewis mentioned.

“Attendance bein’ low n’all,” Arthur rebounded. He dumped the cardboard box and napkins in a trash reciprocal, and stopped at a bench beside a towering tree. From his own backpack, he produced the bottle of ninety-nine and scrubbed the sweet-sticky off his hands. “I’ll keepin’ an eye out for the Allo chasing team.”

“You wanna chase the Dino Exterminators?”

“Heck no! I wanna know which way to be runnin’, and race out of dodge.” He jammed a thumb up over his shoulder.

Lewis pulled his backpack around front and fished around for the work camera. “Classic Arthur, the brave.” He waved the camera. “Can I get a pic? For the memorias.” It wasn’t important where Arthur relocated to, as long as Lewis moved into position. “Strike a pose.”

Arthur stood, flexing his… noodle arms. “Check out these guns.”

Lewis adjusted the zoom and snapped a picture. “Cojo.”

“Did you say something rude?”

Lewis stuffed the camera back in the backpack and resumed walking. “No.”

“I’m gonna look up that word right now.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping. “Say that word again. C’mon, say it.”

Lewis sighed. “We’re supposed to be working.”

“I’m doing essential research.”

The layout of the security office was not overly complex, and one of the security officers escorted Vivi through the corridors. It was still off-putting with how most the corridors were identical, they might’ve been going around in circles and would be none the wiser. They came through the day before, and Mystery pursued the security guy with every ounce of confidence in his doggy stride. But Mystery was at times overconfident in his own abilities, she usually had to keep an eye on him.

They reached the inner waiting room for Mr. Klayton’s office, a quaint little space where a receptionist worked behind a desk and work station. The previous day, the team didn’t spend much time here. Vivi bid the security escort a thank you and went to the receptionists. In a brief exchange, she gave over her details and offered the temporary ID. The receptionists made a brief call to Mr. Klatyon, and then to Vivi:

“He’ll see you in a moment. Would you like some refreshments?” The receptionist stood a bit and indicated the far side of the room. Both Vivi and Mystery followed the line of sight.

One side of the room reserved space to a short concession table, among some comfortable looking chairs. A mini fridge huddled in the corner, with a glassed in front, revealing chilled snacks and sodas. The offered goodies didn’t appear to be off-brand names, and appeared to be on the pricey side.

Vivi strolled over to the fridge and squinted one eye. “Want a snack?”

Two minutes later, the receptionist was peering over the desk uneasily as the dog and girl cleared out the refreshments. All the cups and trays were in a neat stack on the table, among with two cans of soda with straws sticking out. Mystery was drinking his soda, very politely. Vivi polished off another one of those adult lunchable meal-sets, with the meats and cheeses portioned out, and some crackers. Mystery took up a napkin and dabbed at his snout.

Quite suddenly, the door to Mr. Klayton’s office swung open wide, and three people emerged, mid argument. Not arguing among each other, but speaking loudly in a heated fashion, and being expressive with the tangle of the back and forth. Vivi stood up from the recliner she had claimed, but the door to Mr. Klayton’s office shut. Um, what was she supposed to do? She looked at the receptionists, but they were on the phone.

“—is keep sitting on this debt, we lost money we’re unable to compensate for because he has the models,” one was saying.

Vivi perked.

“We can refurbish the skins,” another was saying. “Get them off our hands. The skins are pliable, the finalized version universal.”

“Excuse me.” Vivi smiled when they stopped and looked her way. The three looked rather distinct with their general style, piercings, and a few tattoos. Nothing over the top or overdone, but they stood out with the clash of the formal blazers and slacks. “I take your meeting went well?”

The smaller guy, he looked the most stressed, took a deep breath. “I hope you did not get commissioned for work with this guy.”

Vivi gave a little wave. “Oh no, don’t worry. No money transactions going on here.” She got her backpack off the recliner and rummaged around. She pulled out a dog toy for Mystery. “You’re talkin’ about skins. That’s heckin’ scary. Mystery, you scared?”

Bark! He loved wail chicken. OH! But he was scared. He took the chicken and slinked under the table. A little whimper would sell his performance.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” an older girl replied. “Don’t pay attention to that. The owner of this company kind of skimped on our checks for some orders. We want it settled, but contract technicalities.” She sighed and smoothed out her extravagant hair. “We’ll have to explore our options with the court, but right now we don’t want to go there.”

“Oh boy,” Vivi feigned surprise. “Court fees are kind of high. Would it be worth it?”

The group looked around to each other, uncertain, annoyed. The buff guy once more, responded, “It wouldn’t be very profitable, for our company. But we might be able to recover some of our lost appraisal value.”

“That’s why we need to forget it, and just refurbish the skins,” the girl was saying.

“What skins?” Vivi asked innocently. “Like, taxidermy? Is there a taxidermy attraction in the park?” They kind of laughed.

The third member, a stout figure, spoke. “We built some 3-D attractions for the park, we can’t talk much about it due to… corporate copyright protections.”

“Gotcha.” She winked.

“There were two purchases,” he went on. “The endo-structure support, and then the skin cover. We got paid for the mechanical skeleton, but there was… a miscommunication for the covering, and Geoffrey ordered the skins off another supplier.”

“They don’t even look that good,” the buff guy snapped. “We incorporated specialized silicon into the joints, to compensate for wear and tear.”

“None of them are anatomically correct.” The girl was saying.

“That’s enough,” the stout guy said. He checked his phone. “We gotta get going. Another meeting.” He waved his phone Vivi’s way. “Good luck with anything.”

When the trio exited the main door, the buff guy turned back. “Pfft, hope you get your money’s worth.”

Vivi was already digging through her backpack. “We’re not… getting paid.”

The security escort was at the door, holding it while the trio exited. Arthur and Lewis slipped in, Lewis appeared perplexed.

“Paid?” he asked, when the door shut. “Are we getting paid?”

Arthur sighed. “No.”

“Should we?”

“Technically, yes.”

Vivi was busy writing in her notebook. “We’re not getting paid, not this job. We’ll be compensated in something far more valuable.”

Arthur tugged on his goatee. “Pray tell, what is more valuable that cold, hard, cash?”

Lewis prompted, “Liquid assets?”

Mystery barked. He slipped out from under the table, chicken in his teeth.

Arthur was laughing. “God, I love you Lewis.”

Vivi swung her pen at them. “We’re getting paid in unlimited food.”

Bark! Mystery balanced the chicken on his head.

“Exactly. Lifetime passes.” She continued writing in the notebook. “What did you two find out?”

“Well—” Lewis began. The door to Geoffrey Klayton’s office opened, and the business owner’s head poked out.

“Mystery Skulls,” Mr. Klayton called. “Do you have anything to report?”

There wasn’t much to impart onto Geoff or Geoffrey Klaton, manager of Fanatical Hypes ™, and distressed new owner of the park. The most that the Mystery Skulls afforded was a courtesy call, to see if there was anything he could recall. Likewise, if anything was reported by Geoffrey’s staff in the short time the crew was absent, let alone if the Allosaur was making rounds. The team did speculate to the park owner, the animatronic that was malfunctioning might not be a malfunction at all. For the time, this was all the intelligence they would be willing to impart until deeper into the investigation.

“A saboteur?” Mr. Klayton uttered, on the side of disbelief. “I don’t know what you mean. That is to say, I understand your suspect. But who could possibly want to sabotage my theme park?”

Vivi exchanged a glance with Lewis. Both were sitting, with Arthur between them on his phone doing more ‘research’. He hadn’t spoken much since the meeting initiated, his spare arm was draped down an idly scratching at Mystery’s ear.

“You… really can’t think of anyone that would have it out for your park?” Vivi proposed. “A disgruntled worker? A group opposed to the expansion of the park?”

“Or how ‘bout a bright but neglected kid, with a knack for engineering and computer programming,” Lewis tossed in.

Arthur stopped what he was doing and gave Lewis a thousand-yard stare. “Dude, really?”

Lewis huffed and adjusted his ascot. “Don’t underestimate the power of kids. You of all people should know their capabilities.” Arthur gave a shudder, and the topic ended there.

“A rival competitor!” Vivi speculated, with fervor. “Or other theme attraction, such as museum or zoo? Your theme park is a massive draw from other, perhaps lesser-known tourist stops.”

Mr. Klayton thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I suppose all of those are possibilities, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Vivi opened her mouth, but stalled out and took a short breath. “Yes,” she sighed. “Well, we know how they plan on defaming your company.”

Lewis took over, “Once we deal with the Allo-dino menance, it’ll dry up their tools. Might even draw them out to confront us, if only to salvage the machine.” He glanced to Arthur, still engrossed with his phone.

Mr. Klayton cleared his throat and leaned back. “I should be the one utilizing the Allosaur nuisance to scare off all the ruffians that come to this park, and vandalize attractions. It costs millions yearly to repair graffiti! Never mind the damage a broken, malfunctioning animatronic causes.”

The group chuckled a little uneasily. After the events the night before, they were more than eager to investigate the human influence behind the machines ‘glitch’, or lack of. The problem wasn’t the mechanical nightmare deviating from its programming, but that it was following someone’s programming to the absolute command.

“It is pretty serious,” Vivi admitted. “We’re rooting for a starting point, and that’ll give us the momentum we need to reach a conclusion with minimal hiccups. You can’t think of… who might have it out for you?” Geoff Klayton wasn’t taking the bait.

He flipped his palms up, shrugging. “I don’t know what to tell you. As a theme park owner, and owner to several trademarks and copyright properties – I have rivals, and I have competitors – any one of them might have the capacity to… rob my attraction of an animatronic.”

“Oh, they didn’t hijack the animatronic.” At last, Arthur spoke up. He continued tapping and swiped on his phone. “It’s not an original of the set you purchased, so technically you don’t own it. I would ask for records on the transaction, those animatronics ordered and supplied. Have that on hand.”

Something in Mr. Klayton’s demeanor changed. “Yes. That would… make sense.”

Arthur pointed to his phone. “I’m going through files for the ride from Influencer Adrenalin Junky Park Enthusiasts, trying to estimate where and how Allo began making first appearances.” He chewed on his knuckle as he returned to the phone. “It’ll narrow down the parties or persons invested in sabotaging your park.”

Mr. Klayton nodded. “All right. You seem to have things under control. Er, please notify me if you learn anything new.”

The meeting didn’t reveal much for the Mystery Skulls, but cashing in and checking Mr. Klayton’s response to the investigation was telling. It was more productive discussing their progress amongst their crew, while meandering through the park and keeping an eye on the boring routine, scouting for the lingering glance that linger too long on the colorful assemble. Someone other than Geoff would be in on their involvement, and it would narrow down who that person or people were, if they were forced to emerge from the shadows rather than hide behind a computer monitor. Given how bare the park was today, it wasn’t difficult to sift through familiar faces.

Directly following the departure from the main headquarters, the group stopped for some late lunch. They planned to make a direct path to the Land Time Forgot attraction, with the aid of a golfcart rented to them for convenience.

“You guys are really taking advantage of the free food gig,” Lewis stated. He had a small crate of fries, bummed off from Arthur’s meal. He should have been the one driving, but he barely managed to catch the golfcart when Vivi sped off.

“I’m a growing boy,” Arthur mumbled, seated in the back-bed reserved for supplies. And him. He loaded the hotdogs with his usual condiments, expertly applying sauces regardless the rock and bumps of the vehicle. “I’m callin’ it now, gonna beat twenty KM tonight. I need calories.”

Woof!

“Yeah-yeah, hold on.” Arthur used the spare plastic cutlery to divide off a piece from one of his hotdogs, and tossed it to Mystery.

“Then there’s this guy following us.” Lewis bit onto the end of his fry tray and pulled his backpack up off the floorboard. He dug out the work camera and began fiddling with the menu on the back. “’Unna ‘end ohh ‘eh ‘ick’ures.”

“Aw, thanks sweety,” Vivi gushed. “Love photos.”

Arthur stuffed a hotdog into his mouth. “MumhmumhmmmuumhmhmhmumhUUGH.”

“Artie, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He chewed and swallowed. “I’m tryin’ tu say, he could be a fan.” He had to brace his feet to the tailgate and wrap an arm around Mystery, when Vivi took a sharp turn. Mystery gobbled up one of his hotdogs while he was distracted.

Vivi took some fries from Lewis’ tray. Together the two chimed, “Naah.” She took the side of the phone and gave the photos a short review; the fry stuck out of her lips like a lollypop.

Lewis added, “Guys a creeper. Don’t like that.” With practiced routine, he held the steering wheel while Vivi was distracted. The golfcart bounced over a railroad intersection and revved down the pathway, the sights and shadows of scenery whipped by as did the visitors enjoying a very offseason.

Through the next two hours, the team browsed through the Land Time Forgot attraction, with some of the ride features on, minus the roaming animatronics. With the lights on, they returned to the scene of where Arthur became trapped by Allo, and scouted through the roughed up terrain to determine if anything else could be scrounged out of the untouched region. Thankfully, the attraction remained shut up and abandoned over the course of their investigation, otherwise, the roots and undergrowth might’ve been restored to their former glory. And all evidence within whisked away – an aspect that greatly annoyed Vivi. Which was why no one divulged that information to her, prior to the meeting. They needed Geoff’s cooperation, especially if he could be manipulated into divulging intel he wasn’t aware was relevant to the investigation.

With clear minds and energy, they took some additional pictures of the damaged tree. The attraction was less creepy with the light and the pre-recorded jungle ambiance, it seemed normal despite the artificial birdcalls replicating anticipated clamor of long extinct avian and reptiles. With the animatronics inactive, the crew made certain to keep alert for the thundering steps and grumbling that should have no right being present.

After scarfing two hotdogs, Mystery was on the hunt for evidence as well.

“The people I spoke with,” Vivi was saying, “seemed open about their dispute with Geoff McKlayton. They have plans on going to court with their dispute, but they could also be pressuring him into paying up the money he owes on the machines. Though, I don’t think either party want it to go that far.” She set her hand on her chin, contemplating the flaws in the assessment.

“But they went off and told you.” Lewis picked up a cracked chunk of the root, and examined the inner gray material that was cement. “Maybe they were frustrated and venting, or they’re not fixed on covering their tracks. Even if I wasn’t aware of an investigation, I wouldn’t go broadcasting. That’s just me, though.” He grinned.

Vivi shrugged. “It doesn’t need to be the whole group. One person, a programmer, can scheme this plan up.”

Arf-arf!

Arthur lowered his phone and turned the way Mystery was. “Watcha got there?” Mystery pawed at the fake soil, a ways off from the group. Some of the terrain was disturbed, and footprints visible in the undersoil. He crouched and moved aside a few strands of the interwoven fiber. “Hmm? This is something.” He reached over and gave Mystery’s head a playful rub. “Nice work, bud.”

Bork! Mystery smiled and wagged hit bob tail.

It was a short bar with wires attached at a servo and computer board. The piece was no longer than his forearm, though it was apparent this was not the entire part. The metal was warped and bent, the circuit board was snapped in two. A few insignificant pieces lay in the dirt, but being so small they were not worth the time.

Arthur took his phone up and snapped off some pictures. “I need your paw for reference.”

Mystery sat back and bent his ears down.

“C’mon, just your—” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Never mind. I got this.” He stuck out his foot, and snapped off some pictures. “They’re for our private collection.” He flipped the piece over and inched in close, until he was a foot off the floor.

Lewis and Vivi came over. “What’s that? From the Allo?”

“Obviously.” Arthur pulled down his backpack and slipped out a napkin. “Likely the arm, but it might’ve come off its snout.” He bounced the metallic piece in his hands. “Light. Snapped easy too. The endoskeleton support must be zinc or aluminum. I would have to examine it more carefully.”

Vivi adjusted her head band. “They made it cheap.”

“It’s not cheap,” Arthur corrected. “This metal is light, which benefits the dinos swift movement and alleviates stress on more important components, such as the legs and infrastructure.” He pulled out a bag and stuffed the metal component into it, then sacked it. “Anything else to declare, Mystery dog?”

Mystery did a tight circle and barked. I’ll give it another patrol, no promises.

They spent a little more than thirty minutes, rechecking the only other location where Lewis and Arthur had an extended encounter with the Allosaur. That was the plaster cliff, where Lewis spectacularly failed to climb. Not that it was his fault, the cheap material and the sheer panic. Though Arthur did note the vine rope was missing. Why would it be missing? No secret someone came through and moved it, with intent. It didn’t supply much to the sleuthing, aside from what they could already figure. The missing vine could mean someone came through and removed some incriminating evidence, but it left the question of why the vine?

“It’s still early,” Lewis yawned. “Should we hit up the room, go through our research until the park closes?”

“Grab a nap,” Arthur teased. From the ledge he jumped and landed between Mystery and Vivi, the soft fake ground cushioned his touchdown. Even so, he shook his legs out as he began walking. “Snag a snack on the way.”

Woof. Mystery trotted alongside Arthur.

“I’m game,” Vivi proclaimed, as she stretched. “We’ll get an early start this evening, see if we can scope anyone suspicious. Hmm… cool. Hey! Wait a second!” She halted dead in her tracks – Lewis was right behind her, and stumbled into her backside. “Hey! WAIT!” She pointed to one of the animatronics, a long-necked sauropod nuzzling the high branches of a frond. It paid her no mind.

“Um!” Lewis exclaimed. “Arthur?��

“Hah?” He stopped and swung back. Following the gaze of Vivi and Lewis, he spied the issue at hand. “Hey! Noway! You’re not pinning that on me!” Mystery popped behind his legs, ears folded back and shoulders dipped.

“You’re totally missing the point,” Vivi rebuked. “We’re not alone here.”

“In more ways than one.” Lewis grabbed her hand and tugged her along. “Vamoose! Con rapidez!”

“Damnit-damnit-damnit!” Arthur hissed. He ducked and dove between the forest saplings, with Mystery in his shadow. “We should be okay if we don’t divert our course. The dino displays aren’t dangerous, if we get too close they’ll move out of the way. Right? Right! They have that failsafe programmed.”

In their swift footed retreat, they happened across paths with a biped herbivore and another one of the tyrannosaur models amid a dramatic confrontation. Though, the conflict was complete PG, the two animatronics shuffled around and growled, no real physical assault was planted on the other. The tyranno charged, and the bipedal herbivore gave a wail and trudged aside – tail swishing in the low branches. The group sprinted out of the way, altering their trek when the herbivore animatronic waddled much too close to their position, though neither animatronic dropped focus or heeded them in the slightest.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Lewis snatched his hand from Vivi’s. “Oh, sorry. Forgot.”

“It’s okay.” She picked up speed, threading among some baboo foliage and leapt out onto the road. One of the buggy’s rolled through, forcing her back beside the barrier and the grove of fake trees. “Yikes!” She was joined by the others, springing free of the fake shrubbery.

“Someone ain’t playing around,” Arthur panted.

Lewis was already stepping over the trackway, where the buggy’s followed the pathway fitted into the vehicle guidance rail. “Let’s hurry. If Allo spies us, we’ll have a heck of a time shakin’ it.”

Arthur and Mystery leapt to the side, beside Lewis. “Don’t have to tell me about it.” He adjusted his backpack, that janky part dug into his shoulder blade.

The noises of the passive animatronics was off-putting, the lumbering machines prowled through the thicket on pathways of their pre-scripted focus. Sometimes one or two grunted in the thicket, the machines gave pre-scripted calls to their counterparts, and it was somewhat reassuring when someone returned the cry – it made them more conscience and lifelike rather husks or puppets. Nonetheless, the clamor was off-putting.

Though none took an interest in the group as they navigated through the patches of undergrowth, there was an otherworldly strangeness to the situation. It would’ve been different, if they were aboard the ride and could marvel at the animatronics as a fantastic spectacle. Being trapped within the attraction itself, was akin to getting locked in the lions den. Anywhere, the Allosaur could be lurking, watching, its movement masked by the other roaming giants mindlessly patrolling.

“We should’ve checked the charging station,” Arthur muttered. “It was worth a shot.”

Vivi barely stalled, as she skipped down a mild slope. “The chances were astronomically low. Anyway, it’s unlikely whoever built it, would chance it to have the same restrictions the other animatronics have. Maybe it has a car battery, or something similar - something to change out manually, and quickly.” Arthur was about to counter, but Lewis broke in:

“Argue back at the room,” he huffed, while clambering over fake logs. “Mr. Klayton doesn’t need another incident.”

“Another incident,” Arthur spat. “If I’m turned into a toothpick, he’ll have another incident!”

“Artie!” Lewis and Vivi snarled simultaneously. Mystery barked.

Ten minutes later, they were stumbling out of the grove of thick elephant ears that bordered the initial entrance to the attraction. A buggy was situated at the ramp that slopped down, and intersected with the track where the vehicle locked into. It remained stationary, while the group marched the remnant meters over to the vehicle dock. Arthur took up the lead, climbing up onto the boarder where riders would exit off.

“For the record, someone has to manually unlock these so they can start off.” He moved along the walkway beside the vehicle port, toward the control office. The group followed. “For safety reasons.”

“Then someone was just here,” Lewis amended, slamming a fist into his palm. “We might’ve missed them by a second.”

Vivi grabbed the elbow of his shirt sleeve. She whispered, “They might still be around.” The control office had a glassed door, and through it no visible shape of a person or anyone was visible. The corridor leading behind the paneling was deserted. “Let’s keep our eyes open.”

“Right.”

The door was left ajar, but there was no indication of who might’ve been there to tamper with the controls. Arthur checked the ceiling, for tiles that might’ve afforded a hasty escape. Not that they would pursue someone up there.

With him entered Vivi, giving the monitors in the room a lingering scrutiny – the cameras revealed every angle of the attraction. Primarily, the tracks and the buggies, and the exits. None of the office revealed much, aside from what could be observed from this singular location. Arthur hadn’t even activated the cameras, though they were clearly marked.

“Y’know what I’m seein’ a lot of?” he ventured, upon taking a closer examination of the screens.

“Huh?” Lewis followed Arthur’s gaze, tracking each static shot. Some of the dinosaurs in the attraction continued to lumber about, performing for no audience their monotonous charade.

“We didn’t need these screens going,” Arthur continued. “Though it might’ve helped. But these cameras are watching everywhere we were runnin’ around the other night.”

Lewis hiked up his brows. “The place wasn’t as deserted as we wanted. They could be – ” He’s cut off by Arthur’s hand capping his mouth.

“Mystery?” Vivi prompted. She stepped out of the office and addressed the hound. “Can ya get us a lead?”

Yip! Mystery plowed his way into the control office and gave the floor, the dial panel, and the chair a brief skim with his snout. He padded out of the office sniffling at the cement floor, decorated with imprints of fossilized insects and varied species of crustaceans. Weaving this and that way, then in a circle, Mystery directed his path to the ride exit.

Woof!

“Lead the way then,” Vivi cheered. Lewis, then Arthur followed one after the other.

“Could it have been anyone not affiliated with the park?” Lewis questioned, as they pursued Mystery through the narrow corridor. Displays of replicated bones and dioramas of dinosaur statues amid patches of forest, gave guests ample photo opportunities upon exit. There was also a pose with dinosaur station, set aside in an alcove along the way.

“It’s possible.” Arthur scratched at his sideburns, thoughtful. However, he knew what Lewis was getting at. “The controls are easy enough to figure out, with minimal issues if you fuck it up. Basically, everything is on or off. I lay my cards, that we didn’t miss them by a second. They fooled around, got the ride going, and then took off.”

“You said the ride buggies have to be manually set off.” Vivi indicated.

“True,” Arthur piped. “Still, it takes the buggies a few minutes to roll around the trail. The ones we saw might’ve been the first activated on an error, before the Flintstones got warmed up.” Vivi groaned at that.

“Is the trail hot, Misty?” Lewis called.

Mystery gave an affirming bark, and picked up the pace. He banked into the curve, leading past displays of replica dinosaur fossils ‘excavated’ from the wall. But suddenly, the dog skidded on his rear paws and pulled himself up short. Vivi nearly tripped over him, and Lewis nearly collided into her once more.

“Dang breaks.” Lewis caught Vivi before she could topple over onto the hound. “What gives?”

Mystery tilted his head, then set his nose back to the floor. He made a dog grumble, baffled, going in a circle, then went counterclockwise. His head sprang up and he looked back at the group, ears sprouting high, and a yip for good measure.

“Arthur?” Vivi echoed. She glanced around, jolting. “Arthur! Where—”

“Oh Dios mío!” Lewis capped his hands over his face. “Otra vez?”

Vivi pushed past him, charging throgh the narrow corridor. “He didn’t go that way, that’s for sure!”

Mystery scampered after them, barking up a storm. I have to get in the lead! Let me by!

They returned to the main chamber of the attraction entrace, spreading out and skimming across the nearby thicket for a chance of movement or flash of yellow. Mystery barreled by, headed for the ride entrance and yapping.

“It happened so fast!” Lewis was saying. “He was right behind me! Cómo! Como dejamos que esto suceda?”

“They couldn’t have gone far. Mystery!” Vivi gave chase, before the bob tail winked out of view beyond the curvature in the entrance corridor. “Lew! Hurry!” With a growl, Lewis raced after. “Arthur! Ya there!”

“They’ll hear us Vi!”

Ruff!

“So will Art,” she countered. “He can buy us some time, if he can fight them.”

After a grueling chase – no indication or view of where Arthur and the vandal might be, let alone indication of how far ahead they’d gone – the lengthy tunnel ended abruptly. The trio was blasted by vicious, unobstructed sunlight of the noon day. Vivi squinted and raised a hand, struggling to dampen the light and view through the over-exposedness of her vision. She blinked several times, at a total loss. Mystery was barking in hysterics.

“Where!”

“MMHP!” She knew that stuffed mouth mumble anywhere!

Lewis had an easier time adjusting to the light, given the shade of his pompadour. He took a stand and pointed, aimed toward the parked golfcart already loaded with yellow and orange. “Hey! Stop right there!”

One of the corny costume masked dinosaur curios popped up, its static eyes gawked north and south simultaneously. In the back of the golfcart bed, Arthur jerked his legs, but with his body bundled tight he was not going anywhere. He couldn’t get up over the edge, despite his desperate thrashing.

The masked vandal ducked into the driver side of the golfcart and hit the gas, and like that the electric vehicle shot off – its corner bumper skid across one of the fence posts in the tight turn.

“I said STOP!” Lewis hooted. “C’mon Mystery!” He and the dog jumped the “Out of Commission” fence, and sprinted down the inclined stepping sections, immediately hurrying after the speeding cart.

“You guys!” Vivi called. “Wait, we need a better plan!” Regardless, she bounded down the steps as well, nearly falling down completely in a misstep. Before she could devote herself entirely to running down her colleagues, she broke off and took a different route.

When he wanted to be, Lewis could move fast. He could absolutely rival Arthur in a sprint if the occasion called, but for a short stint of time. In that same amount of time, he recognized he was not going to get ahold of the cart that was zooming off with his friend. Faster than his legs could move, tireless, and with the authority of a beep-beep – guests moved aside.

Though Mystery could keep going, and could be just as relentless.

“Don’t lose him!” Lewis called.

Bark! His tongue lolled out of his mouth, he wasn’t going to fail. If he lost the vehicle, picking up the scent would not be simple. He should know, he devoted lifetimes to obstructing trails.

In short time, the soft putter of an engine revved beside Lewis. He gave it a look over, and glanced at the driver. “Should I ask?”

“Official Mystery Skulls business!” Vivi barked. In the back of the cart, numerous packages and boxes were packed in. That explained a lot. “We’re losin’ them.”

Lewis hopped aboard. He took the bar that framed the canopy of the vehicle and leaned out. The vehicle swayed and skidded, when Vivi swerved to avoid oblivious guests and a few character actors out on the path. Vivi smacked the horn.

Beep-beep.

“Outta the way! Look out!”

The other cart remained a ways ahead, the little vehicles were not highway fast Ferraris but they could move. Ahead, a sharp left took the other cart on another path. Lewis clambered to the other side of the cart and leaned out.

“Don’t slow down!” He reached an arm out. “Get as close as you can, and hold tight!”

“Gotcha!” Vivi altered course, going for the corner of the path and the lamppost there. “This is some GTA next level, huh?”

“More like P-G-TA!” He grabbed the lamppost and held the cart steady with his other arm, hauling it into the trajectory they needed to catch. The wheels screeched over the pavement, but they maintained stability without a full-on rollout and maintained speed. “I’d wager this was a lead.”

“Cheerio!” Vivi cheered.

Arf! Arf-arf! The cart rolled up beside Mystery. He gave a leap and plopped right into the back of the cart, among the packed merchandise. He set his front paws on a sealed box and stood tall, tongue hanging and the breeze sweeping through his mane.

“We’re not gaining much,” Lewis noted. He shoved off his backpack and began digging inside.

Ruff! Mystery popped his head in the front seat, and leaned his snout up toward Lewis. Woof.

“Oh, thanks.” Lewis took the rolled up twine, likely for prizes at the game district. He took the end and skillfully tied a small knot, then slipped a loop of twine through. “Keep us steady.”

“You can’t lug Arthur out of the cart, at thirty miles an hour!” She ground her teeth together while swerving, skillfully avoiding a pack of teens. Her palms slapped the helm as she regained stability, and pulled up straight.

“I want to lasso that guy, or stall him.” Lewis fitted the loose end of twine in his hand and began swinging. Someone flashed off a picture as they sped by. A short knob sat visible on the back of the cart, beside the cargo space. If he could get it snagged there, they could stall the cart. That was the plan. “In broad daylight,” he hissed.

The first two lasso throws missed by a mile, but the third was close. Too close to Arthur’s foot, sticking out of the cargo back. The yellow hair sprang up, and briefly Arthur poked his head up – the sash around his face was coming undone. Arthur tumbled over, disappearing from view momentarily. When next he did appear, it was to kick out the backpack he had been wearing.

Lewis put a pause on the cowboy antics and climbed to the other side of the cart, he leaned out and snatched up the pack.

“I think I’m gaining,” Vivi grunted, focus fully on the cart holding steady ahead of them. “The battery might be going bad.”

Mystery raised his head and bent one ear high. “Aroo?”

Lewis was busy fitting the tie into his fingers, and winding to throw the lasso once more. But Mystery’s question gave him pause, and he glanced around. Upon spying the cause for scrutiny, he swung to Vivi. “Train!”

“What?” she snapped, disbelief. Looking the way Lewis was focused, she too spied the cause for alarm. “Agh! Arthur!”

And up ahead, the level crossing signals descended onto the pathway, directly between a steadily growing swarm of people abiding by the clear warning. The chime of bells rang unrestrained, and the miniature hoot of the train tooted as it closed in on the leveled platform. The train’s speed decreased, but not on account of the approaching golfcart.

“He’s not stopping!” Vivi snapped. “The people!”

“The train!”

Bark!

Lewis clambered into the driver side and slammed his foot onto the brake. The cart wheezed and swerved, but by adjusting his weight over the frame he managed to keep it from crashing sideways. Vivi’s line of sight never broke from the other cart – as it veered around the mob of people gathered to observe the train – and barreled through the level signals. The train blared its horn but didn’t slow, and in an instant it was all over.

Vivi leaned out of the opposite side. “What happened!” She disembarked the immobile golfcart and ran toward where the train was. Lewis followed.

“No debris!” he noted. “The train didn’t stop. They made it through.”

“You sure?” Vivi gripped her shirt as she skimmed over, through the crowd and to the train tracks on the level. The train chugged by, what was worse was the waiting. “We lost them.”

The train hooted, its speed dropped considerably in the pedestrian zone. Some of the people muttered amongst themselves, perplexed entirely by the scene witnessed – Was it some sort of publicity stunt? When the last cart rattled by undiscouraged following the event, the level crossers ceased their insistent chime and hoisted skyward. Bystanders broke apart and crossed the leveled tracks, and through the mesh of faces there was absolutely no sign or indication of where the golfcart or the googly-eyed reptile scurried off to. But thankfully, there was no sign of ruble or plastic, let alone metal. The cart made a clean getaway, and for once they were grateful.

For the time, that is.

Mystery whined.

“It’s all right.” She knelt and hugged the pup around his shoulders. “My fault. I should’ve been watching.”

Lewis took a breath and exhaled. “Hang in there, Art. We’ll come get you.” He leaned over and tapped Vivi on the shoulder. “Let’s get the car, see if Mystery can pick up the trail before it gets too cold.”

The Dinosaur mask could pass for a mythical lizard, or a dragon. Yeah, a mighty dragon, driving through the park on his way to do maintenance. He sped beneath the archway designating the new district, the Mythical Plateau full of attractions themed after regions of the world and local creatures that prowled the forests, mountains, or swam through the lakes. The castle was an eye-catching landmark, but it had a back access barred off from visitors. An easy optical illusion barred access, unless someone knew what to look for or how to find it. The illusive entry was not the only barrier eluding park guests.

He drove the cart down the curving slope and into a space built out beneath the road, where a metal gate stood impenetrable. Closer inspection would reveal the lock wasn’t fastened, and needed minor manipulation to open the padlock latch. But there was nothing down in this area, the location was off limits to civilians, and impossible to navigate without a light. No one but project-coaches knew about this space, let alone the stories it could tell.

He heaved the gate open, the wheels beneath the barrier creaked as they eased the thick metal along its tract. Returning to the cart, he drove it the next few feet through the small opening allowed. After shutting the door enough, he returned to the cart and snapped the headlamps on.

It was a short ride on the circular ramp, which transported loose supplies and attraction décor to an upper floor, this level elevated alongside the surrounding park. The road led up into the interior of the elaborate castle, an faux edifice that was completely hollow, its entire frontal display a façade. The interior construction ventured back several meters, where more of the outdated machines could be stored; train carts from rollercoasters, single vehicles from the rides, and unused vehicles. Likewise, mannequins or other creature statues got stashed away, among the disassembled portions of large statue pieces, along with props or entire furniture sets.

After a few minutes, the golfcart was eased to a halt. The dust from the storage chamber swirled in the lamp lights. Deep within the plaster chambers of the castle fortress, noises from the surrounding world pilfered through, muffled.

The masked man reached to the ceiling of the cart and clicked on a miniscule light, the contribution didn’t assist much in visibility. It did offer some definition to the edges of the cart, its seats, and the passengers. The masked man climbed out and went to the back, where Arthur lay in the cargo bin. He hauled the prone figure out and dumped him on the ground. Arthur grunted through the bind across his jaw, snorting at the dust and blinking.

“Fuhh!” He tried to roll over and get up, but his ankles constricted any beneficial movement. At the cart, the figure fumbled around, noisily.

“Where is it? The part!” The masked person scrambled over to where Arthur wriggled and grabbed him by the shoulder. The reptile mask had wacky eyes, a stiff snout, and the jaw bounced out of sync with all verbal demands. The rest of his full-bodied disguise was pleather with printed scales, in blue and green patterns. “What’d you do with it? Your backpack! Where is it?”

Arthur sneezed, and rolled his eyes. This guy was a dumbass.

“Oh,” said the guy. “You must’ve dumped it off the side, did you? Crafty.” He dropped Arthur once again, and left him in the dust. The pleathered suited jerk hurried across the floor to a drape, covering a tall heap on the floor. “You’ll regret that.” He pulled the tarp back, revealing… something.

With the shitty light, Arthur couldn’t make out much. He glared, uncertain what the guy was up to. He had a suspicion, but the specifics were lost on him. He shifted his legs closer to the wheel rim of the golf cart – he wasn’t bound by rope. It was cloth, easy to cut and fix, within hasty time constraints. It could be sheared, with time constraints.

“Antrodemus.” At the spoken word, a sound vibrated against the hollowed walls of the interior building. Of where they were, no dimensions could be defined by Arthur – noises came through. And now, this sound. A whirring, and creaking… was that a growl?

What really did he expect?

The animatronic dinosaur rasped as its hydraulics kicked to life. With a hiss, it rose from its lying stance and hefted upward to its full height. The masked figure back-peddled a few feet, as the tarp covering it slithered away. Glint and flashes of light glanced off the outline of the figure, it loomed in the drab mud of space, a vague heap. Below it, a self-sustained light shimmered – the shape and interaction with masked figure, indicated a phone of palm pilot.

A connection sparked in Arthur’s mind. He paid careful attention, already working through the details the person skimmed through on the display face. He sneezed.

After a short sequence or exchange, the Allosaur creaked to face Arthur – the eyes in its head glinted. He gaped at it, mind fluttering with the prospects for his survival. The Allosaur marched over, and Arthur made the valiant effort to kick away; somehow he had to escape. Where was Lewis and Vivi? Why hadn’t Mystery located him yet? He gargled, trying for a scream—

Talons the size of butcher knives looped around his shoulders and lifted him upwards. Panicked proper, Arthur twisted and kicked like a deranged merman. The animatronic ceased movement at least. But he remained clamped tight within its not PG serrated claws.

Below, some shuffling and movement closed in, though the dino-animatronic remained static. Hands shoved into Arthur’s pockets, padding him down, grabbing at his vest. Arthur struggled more, and managed to smack the guy in his crummy dinosaur masked face. The dude crumpled sideways, dazed. A good shot! But he hadn’t intended to actually hit the guy, not while he was trapped in this position with a giant meat grinding puppet looming. The Allosaur watched with all the interest of a blank television screen.

“Argh!” The masked man wobbled as he tried to stand, a hand capped to the side of his snout. “Don’t test me! Antrodemus can bench press a car, and he has no restrictors. I’ll have him turn you into a gooey, soggy pretzel before the suns sets.”

Arthur swallowed around the sash in his mouth. The portion of the blindfold over his face pressed uncomfortably into his eye, causing it to weep.

The man finished searching his pockets, and located one cell phone, a package of pepperoni snacks, his lockpick set, a lighter, a graphing calculator, two magazines, and a flashlight. The vandal rolled everything up to the best of his ability between the magazines, and gave Arthur a look that couldn’t be conveyed through the dopey reptile mask.

“How the hell did you have all this crap on you?”

Arthur grimaced. “Mah-Ick.”

“Well,” the guy said, as he went over to the golf cart. “Antrodemus. Execute command: Freeze. Confirm.”

The Allosaur wheezed. The servos and hydraulics through its torso shifted, settling the entire animatronic in place.

“Antrodemus. If no reset supplied, then Execute command: Movement. Pursuit.” He set the magazine burrito onto the golf cart bin, and took out his own phone. After some tweaking over the screen, he spoke, “This will be your only warning. If you try to get away, I won’t be responsible for what happens. What will happen, if you try to run? That, you will have to figure out for yourself. I’ll put it this way,” he began walking, “I don’t recommend testing Antrodemus.”

Arthur’s glare persisted, until the masked jerk’s silhouette fully dissolved into the murk of the interior chamber. The questions swarmed his mind: What was he planning? and What about his friends? They were in danger, but at least the Allosaur was off the playing board for the time. That was his only comfort. There was still a great deal that could be done, in his absence. If this guy could control the Allosaur, likely built the damn thing, then he was more versatile in terms of the theme parks functions.

It was too soon to try and work towards escaping. The guy wasn’t stupid, but he might be careless now. He needed to hold on for a while longer, think about a plan for if once he got free. There was time to think and plot, secure a safe escape. Reset and Movement. Those keywords. What did they mean? They were triggers, designated to erupt the marionette into action.

To the Allosaur. What did it mean?

He turned his eyes up. In the dim, piss poor light the Allosaur remained unmoving, frozen and gazing off in the same state the other animatronics undertook when they were deactivated. Likely a sleep mode. He shifted his focus to the abandoned golf cart, and the lights. The atmosphere abound was bleak, no penetrating shapes or suggestions of form aside from what gleamed against the dull illuminations of the abandoned cart. The present golf cart didn’t offer enough, and to test any theories would test recapture. That depended on how much battery life the vehicle had.

A more terrible thought occurred to Arthur, and his breathing hiked up. What would happen if the Allosaur locked onto movement, while it was still latched onto him? It was not a ‘thinking’ machine, it was a ‘respond to’ machine.

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls ghost #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #msa fanfic #msa fanfiction #mystery skulls lewis #msa!Alive Lewis #mystery skulls mystery #mystery skulls vivi #mystery skulls arthur

1 note · View note