#that being said it is still kinda pissed about the skull smashing

[bunnieswithknives]

Gore, Violence and Blood under the cut

What a mess

[enbiart]

Delinquent kel at the party Aubrey took him to?

HELLO I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE SOMETHING. yes this is written instead of drawn out. a bitch needs to break out of xyr writers block.

i tried to put in a read more and it didnt work :| mobiles a bitch

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The music pounded through his skull. It was loud and blaring, a constant thump thump thump coursing through his veins. It was some pop song he'd heard on the radio a million times yet somehow never caught the words to; Not that it'd do him any good to know them, anyway. He could barely hear his own thoughts over the chatter and movement of people throughout the house.

He took a sip from his solo cup. It was nearly empty with some off-brand soda, more flat than fresh. It was the exact same drink he'd gotten when he first arrived - Aubrey advised against getting refills after the party really got going, saying that the drinks would probably get spiked at some point.

On the other side of the living room, some girl started taking her top off to the slurred cheers of the crowd. That's as good a sign as any that people were getting drunk now. Kel sighed and took another sip. He was starting to get a headache.

He decided to go look for Aubrey. They may have arrived together, but they almost immediately got separated. He wanted to be hurt by her negligence, but after just five minutes in the sea of dancing highschoolers and strobe lights he could barely tell left from right.

At first, the energy and atmosphere of the party made his blood positively sing. Ducking in between partygoers, grooving to the tunes, helping himself to the snacks - this was nothing like those lame school dances. It was leagues better - it was exciting and new and made the world outside the house walls melt away as if it didn't exist.

But now...now he was a bit lost on what to do. He tried socializing, had a thousand different topics he could use to befriend strangers with, but this was a party organized by the graduating class of his highschool to celebrate the start of their last year and he was just a freshman. A short, baby-faced freshman at that. Even now he could see people giving him weird looks from the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to make much progress with these folks.

He groaned quietly. Bothering Aubrey would make him feel better.

He downed the rest of his soda and tossed the cup to the floor. Everyone else had done it, so why bother being the one person to actually look for a trash can? ...He actually felt kinda bad for the guy that had to clean this place up after the party. Poor, poor man.

Kel wandered through the house, peeking into different rooms and regretting most of it. There were a lot of drunk high schoolers doing a lot of drunken misdeeds. There was going to be so, so much gossip at school next week, he was sure of it. Thankfully, none of the drunken miscreants had pink hair, so he was saved the horror of having to tell Aubrey she'd done something embarrassing.

After making a full round through the house, he found himself looking into the kitchen. It was less crowded than the other rooms - some unspoken party ettiquette to not mess with the fine china? - and it was there that he finally caught sight of Aubrey. He opened his mouth to call out to her -

- only to freeze as he saw the people she was with. He recognized them as her newer friends. Kim, and her brother Vance. Kim was sitting on the counter, playfully kicking him as they bickered about something he couldn't hear. Aubrey was clutching her stomach laughing at whatever it was. None of them noticed Kel standing in the entrance.

Something twisted in his chest at the sight. It prickled painfully and made the room feel too small and too hot. He clenched his fists hard enough to hurt.

Wordlessly, he turned and left.

The back door of the house was in a hallway directly to the left of the kitchen. The hallway was empty and the door unlocked, so Kel didn't think twice about slipping outside into the night.

The sudden shift from the heat of the party to the chill of the night was enough to give him goosebumps, and he belatedly wished he'd worn something with longer sleeves. The back light was on, moths and gnats fluttering around it and casting moving shadows on the patio. Colors from the party inside streamed through the windows, and the music was still fairly audible.

He gritted his teeth. There was a rusty metal gate in the fencing around the yard that led to the side of the house. It only came up to his hip, and he hopped it.

The alley between this house and the next was dark and cold; The streetlamp further ahead barely reached it. Metal trash bins were lined up against the walls, in varying degrees of fullness. A cricket began to chirp nearby, and the sound hurt his ears.

He took a deep breath, walked further into the alley, and kicked one of the trash cans as hard as he could. And then he kicked it again, and again, and again. He knocked one onto its side and stomped on it with all his might. The lid rolled on the ground. He picked it up and threw it into the street.

The sound and smell was horrible but it still felt oh, so satisfying. He didn't even know why he felt so angry. He already knew Aubrey had friends other than him. Hell, he knew they were probably ten times more fun than him at parties. There was no damn reason for him to be so pissed off, and yet! Here he was! Here he was!

He growled and kicked another. Ugh!

It had taken a lot of effort to get to this party in the first place. His parents had been absolute asses about everything he did lately, and didn't even approve of him hanging out with Aubrey any more ever since the town started talking about her. He'd had to work up a lot of nerve to ask Aubrey to take him here, and even more to actually get here. He climbed out a window, for Christ's sake! Climbed down a house!

So why -

SMASH!

- was he -

SMASH!

- having such -

SMASH!

- a crummy time?!

He panted. His foot was starting to hurt.

"Looks like someone's having fun."

He jumped, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to turn around. Bathed in shadow, Aubrey stood leaning against the wall, watching him with an amused expression. Kel's face flushed with embarrassment. God, she must've seen all of that.

"Whoops, didn't mean to scare you," She said unapologetically. "I don't think I could've given you a heads up, though, with how into it you were."

Kel glared weakly at her and crossed his arms. He knew she was going to make fun of him for his little temper tantrum, but he really wished she wouldn't. "I don't know what you're talking about," He said defiantly.

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure," She said with an eye roll. She pushed off the wall and further into the alley where he was; In the improved lighting, he noticed she was carrying her bat. He didn't remember her bringing it with her. Maybe it wasn't actually hers. It might've been the homeowner's. She pointed the tip to the ground and eyed him with something like anticipation. "Mind if I join you?" She asked.

Kel blinked. Um, what? "I, uh, still don't know what you're talki -"

"Can I tell you something, Kel?" She interrupted. She changed focus from him to the fallen and dented bins on the ground, and shifted her hold on the bat to two hands. The hair on Kel's neck stood on end at the intensity in her eyes. She took a deep breath, and said, "I really hate this town."

And then she swung.

The sound of her bat bashing against metal stabbed his ears and brought his headache back tenfold, but like before, the sight of the destruction brought such a deep satisfaction it almost left him breathless. Cathartic, that's what it was. She brought her bat down again and again and again, over and over and over, and each swing got his blood pumping and his heart racing. He felt himself grin, and couldn't resist the temptation to join in.

He'd kick a can onto its side and then kick it over to Aubrey, who'd be tense and waiting to strike it hard down the alley. A particularly stubborn can would refuse to dent under his weight and she would nudge him out the way and go to town on the poor object. The party was gone completely from their minds as they set their sights on complete devastation. They laughed, breathless and crazed and high on adrenaline.

Their mayhem didn't go unnoticed for long. A window of the neighboring house opened, and someone yelled out, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Kel only had a second to panic about the consequences before Aubrey grabbed his hand and took off running. He nearly fell over himself, but quickly found his footing and ran right beside her. He could run faster than her if he wanted to, but he didn't want to. He wanted to run with her. He didn't particularly care where they were running to - as long as it was with her.

They were still laughing as they ran.

[onisamu]

couch surfing

toxic Hanamaki Takahiro x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

18+, all characters university aged

warnings: dubcon, stealthing, toxic/manipulative behavior

It wasn’t uncommon for you to walk in your living room to find Makki, nearly always stinking of alcohol or weed, crashing on your couch. You’d complained countless times to your landlord about your broken window, but he always brushed you off since you were on the fourth floor. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you shoved his arm from covering his face. “What are you doing?”

“Mm,” Makki blindly tried pushing your hand away. 

“Makki,” you snapped, ripping the pillow from under his head. 

The back of his skull hit the hard armrest of your couch with a thump. “Fuck, Y/n! What does it look like I’m doing.”

“It looks like you broke into my apartment for the third time this week, why?” You dropped the pillow on his face. 

“Mattsun has another girl over,” he yawned and positioned the pillow back under his head. 

“If you keep doing this I’m gonna start making you pay rent,” you scowled, moving to the kitchen to continue your morning routine. “And you better be fucking gone by the time I’m back from work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. 

“I’m serious, Makki.” 

“Sure you are,” he mumbled, rolling over. “Turn off the lights.”

You flipped two more on. 

“Hey, what kinda pizza do you like?” He asked. 

You poured two cups of coffee before answering. “Why?”

“Just answer the question.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Veggie, now sit up.”

“Aww, you remember how I like my coffee,” Makki crooned, grinning up at you. 

You stuck your tongue out at him, kicking his feet. “Move.”

“Fine, fine,” he sat up slowly, pink hair sticking every which way. 

Cute, you thought momentarily, before frowning and shaking your head. Scumbag. Makki was a useless, mooching scumbag who flitted in and out of your life, sleeping with you whenever he needed a place to stay. 

“I’m serious about being gone.” 

“You always are,” he smirked into his cup. “Can I at least shower before I leave?”

It was tempting to tell him no, just to have some control over the situation, but you were always weak when it came it him. He knew it, just like he knew your window would always be broken. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. 

__

Predictably, he was still sitting on your couch munching on a slice of pizza. 

“You’re back!” He sat up. “I got veggie.”

“And you were also supposed to be gone.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. Mattsun still has that loud ass chick over,” he held out a slice temptingly. 

“Maybe you should try setting boundaries with him. Since, you know, you both fuckin’ live there.” You dropped your bags and accepted the slice. 

“He’d do the same thing if I brought a girl home,” Makki shrugged, eyeing you shamelessly from where he lounged comfortably. “I like that little business woman look. You look good in a pencil skirt.”

You shot him a dirty look. “Don’t.”

“Whaaat?” He slid closer to you, now bumping shoulders. “C’mon, you always end up sayin’ yes. Isn’t it exhausting puttin’ this front every time?”

“I’m serious, Makki. Finish your food and leave.”

“Sure,” he smiled, sipping his beer. “How was work?”

You debated answering for a long moment. He knew exactly what he was doing. Buying you food, acting like he cared, all just to get in your pants. He was good at it, and sometimes you’d let yourself believe he actually cared in his own fucked up way. 

“Fine.”

“Your boss still being an asshole?” Makki opened another beer and offered it to you. 

You accepted it, taking a large sip. “Always.”

“Been sayin’ you just need to quit,” he frowned sympathetically. 

“And do what? Smoke weed, couch surf, and drink beer all day?” 

“Ohh, so mean,” he pouted. “At least my soul isn’t getting sucked out by a stagnant nine to five.”

Not bothering to respond, you finished off your beer and stood up. “Whatever. I’m going to shower.”

Makki watched you leave, his irritating little smile practically mocking you. 

He was poking around your room when you walked in, just a towel wrapped around your body. 

“If you’re looking for cash to steal, I don’t carry it anymore,” you said, picking out a large shirt and panties.

“Do you really think I’m still a shitty little teenager?” He frowned. 

“Yes,” your eyes dropped to his ‘Thrasher’ t-shirt. 

He rolled his eyes. “Borrowed it from Mattsun.” 

“Sure,” you started to leave. 

“Hey,” he caught you by your bicep. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“So?” You glared, shaking his arm off. 

“Can you stop being a bitch for five fucking seconds?” He asked. 

“I’m being a bitch?” You asked, then laughed. “I’m sorry, but if me setting boundaries with you is bitchy, you’ve clearly never had someone tell you no.”

“Jesus Christ,” he grabbed your arm again, this time hauling you over to the bed. “I think you just like pissing me off.”

“Hey- stop,” you stumbled into the edge of the bed. 

Makki’s lips met yours in a bruising kiss, his fingers yanking your towel down. “Stop being obstinate.”

Rough fingers caressed your ribs, any protests disappearing with your soft shivers. “Makki.”

“Shut up,” he crushed his lips to yours and pushed you back until you were flat on your back. 

“Wait,” you pushed on his shoulders. “Condom?”

He held up a foil packet, tossing it next to you. “Open it.”

While you fiddled with the wrapper, he quickly stripped naked. Impatient, he snatched it from you and ripped it open, putting it on in one fluid motion. You took the brief break to reluctantly admire him. His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, and lean muscles flickered in movement under his pale skin. His cock was long and flushed, not as thick as some but enough to need foreplay. 

“You’re cuter when you’re quiet,” he grinned, two fingers pushing at your entrance. 

You squirmed at the slight burn as he pressed in. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You like it,” he curved his fingers, cooing when you moaned. “Yeahh you do.”

“I’ll kick you out,” you said, an obviously empty threat.

He ignored you in favor of pressing his thumb to your clit as he scissored his fingers. You grabbed at his shoulders, biting back moans. 

“Don’t do that,” he pulled your lip from your teeth. “Wanna hear you.”

He pushed deep, eyes on your face as he found you sweet spot with ease. Within minutes you were dripping down his knuckles, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that he purposefully kept just out of reach. 

“I hate you,” you moaned, tugging at his hair. “Fuck me already.”

“Aww, whats that? Are you sure you don’t want me to leave still?” He pulled back teasingly. 

You glared up at him, grabbing the back of his neck to stop him. 

“Say it,” he tilted his chin up. “Say ‘please fuck me, Hiro.’”

His thumb pushed expectantly at your lips. 

You swallowed down the last bit of your pride. “Please fuck me, Hiro.”

A sickeningly satisfied grin spread across his face. “Aww, so needy. I guess I will.”

“Hey, you’re the one who came here beg-“

Makki easily flipped you onto your stomach, slapping your thigh sharply. He nudged your legs apart with a knee before climbing up the bed and straddling your thighs. He dragged the tip of his cock through your slick, watching you closely. You were too desperate, wiggling your thighs needfully, to notice he slipped off the condom and tossed it under the bed. He was pretty sure you were on birth control anyways. He pressed in slowly, grunting as you eagerly clenched around him. 

Reaching up, he placed his hand on the back of your neck for leverage, enjoying the way your face looked smushed into the covers. He didn’t bother letting you adjust, fucking you so roughly your bed frame knocked into the wall. Without a doubt you’d be receiving another noise complaint.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he hissed, leaning down to bite your shoulder. “Acting like you don’t want me.”

“H-hiro,” you moaned into the sheets, drool smeared messily around your lips. You arched your back into his thrusts, eyes rolling as his tip relentlessly met your cervix with sharp bursts of pain. 

He littered your shoulders and neck with dark hickeys, and yours hips with marks from his fingers. He wanted you to think of him every time you saw them. He liked stringing you along like this, indulged in the hopeful looks you’d send him when he was occasionally nice to you. It was cute, in some fucked up way he didn’t feel like lingering on.

He could tell you were close, your body wracked with twitches. Normally he wouldn’t care whether or not you came, but he’d recently become addicted to the way you would tighten up around him and how your walls would flutter periodically for a while after. He reached under you, two fingers rubbing your clit arrhythmically until you squealed and creamed on his cock. 

“That’s it, yes,” he grunted, watching your ass jiggle each time his hips met yours with slippery noises. 

He drooped himself over your back as he came, grinding against your ass until his cock was achy with overstimulation. He sighed belatedly, kissing your shoulder.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He barely caught your elbow from smashing his nose. “Hey, hey! What the fuck?”

“You better have plan b money,” you kicked at him until he rolled off of you. “You fucking prick!”

 “Yeah, of course I do,” he tugged a blanket loose, pushing you down to wrap you up in it so you couldn’t hit him. “Fucking calm down.”

You glowered at him, relaxing warily against his chest. Despite being a raging douchebag, he did give good post sex cuddles. 

[brasskier]

@badthingshappenbingo​ trope #4!

Trope: Concussion

Summary: Jaskier feels like a detective, albeit a clumsy, scrambled-eggs-for-brains kinda detective. He has two mysteries on his plate at the moment - why is Geralt in a bad mood, and why won't his brain cooperate? (Hint: perhaps it has something to do with hitting his head that morning.)

Read on my ao3 or below the cut:

Jaskier probably should've told Geralt when he slipped and smashed his head into a rock on the riverbank coming back up from his morning bath, or should've at least known it was bad when bright worms of light started squiggling in his peripheral and words suddenly got a lot harder to string together. And maybe he would've, if he wasn't so intent on figuring out why Geralt was in such a piss-poor mood that morning. He felt like a detective - albeit a clumsy, scrambled-eggs-for-brains kinda detective - stringing together clues and occasionally nudging the witcher along with leading questions, at least when he could get his brain, lips, and tongue to all cooperate. 

Unfortunately, Jaskier was doing about as well at solving the mystery of Geralt the extra-grumpy witcher as he was figuring out what was going on in his own skull. It'd happened once when he was a boy, falling out of a twisty, too-tall tree. His father, may he rest in peace, didn't notice until Jaskier, uncharacteristically silent, stared vacantly past him— until that point he'd been more preoccupied scolding him for ruining yet another fine pair of trousers. (His parents paid good money for those things, but he was pretty sure maybe they should've learned by that point and stopped dressing him up in finery before releasing him into the world.) 

Speaking of, he could use a new pair of pants. Maybe once they made it to the next town he could find a seamstress, maybe even invest in a nice new doublet as well. Geralt always pretended he found such purchases frivolous and vain, all huffy and monosyllabic, but Jaskier knew full well it put him in a good mood to have something to tease Jaskier for.

Good mood. Right. He was supposed to be figuring out why he was in a decidedly not good mood. He was supposed to… well, he really didn't know past that. His thoughts flitted about his head like a chicken desperate to escape its coop, and this thought made him giggle to himself, picturing his squishy brain with a beak and feathers squawking about.

"Jaskier?" He glanced up at the witcher that had reclaimed his attention, finding it distinctly difficult to track his movements as he bobbed along on his horse. "Did you listen to a thing I said?" Well, that was a silly question, Jaskier thought, because in order for him to listen, Geralt would've had to have said something. His mind trapped like a stuck cog on how to put this minor incongruence into words, and the witcher glared at him in the space of his tenuous silence. 

"How could I?" He asked finally, head tilted to parallel the uncertainty etched in his tone.

"With your ears," Geralt deadpanned, and Jaskier grimaced under the frustration of his misunderstanding.

"No, that's not— I meant— you didn't—" he attempted to elaborate, but once again found his brain, flighty as a hummingbird, refused to put thoughts to language. Geralt slowed Roach to a halt, and only then did Jaskier realize he'd at some point stopped walking. He wasn't too sure when that happened, but he was sure he had to start again, because Geralt was already in a bad mood and the uneasy threat of abandonment always loomed thick. 

This, in hindsight, might've been a mistake. The trees spun, ground tilting ominously like a ship caught in a storm, and Jaskier staggered with the rhythm of it. This, finally, mercifully, seemed to tip off Geralt and his fancy-schmancy witcher senses that something wasn't right. 

"Jaskier?" He called, and he still sounded decidedly disgruntled. This wasn't good; Jaskier was supposed to be getting him in a better mood, not making things worse. He'd even been quiet for a change (moreso due to his tongue's uncooperativeness than any conscious choice on his part, not that Geralt needed to know this detail). 

The witcher swung a leg off the saddle, dismounted with the grace of a cat. (Which was funny; wasn't Geralt supposed to be a wolf? Didn't Geralt's brother know a cat witcher? Maybe cat witchers were even more graceful, like ballerinas; Geralt would never do ballet.) This thought would've also made Jaskier giggle, but he was hesitant to unclamp his jaw at the moment, fearful that more than words might spill past it.

"Jaskier?" It was more urgent this time, which Jaskier vaguely recognized was not good, but couldn't quite recall why. When he managed to force his eyes to focus for a split second, Geralt was in front of him, before the forest swelled again and swallowed him with it. He pressed a hand over his eyes, in the vain hope blindness might put an end to the spinning; he had no such luck, and found himself drifting even in the darkness. 

"Mmm?" He hummed, which was usually Geralt's line, but he was determined to keep up the tight-lipped defiance of his own body. He felt a hand scrape his forehead, shifting his carefully mussed hair, and then move down to cup his chin between two fingers. It was a gruff, economic movement; Jaskier, in his self-imposed darkness, pretended it was tender.

"What's wrong with you?" Even Geralt's voice seemed to be swimming, tilting forward and back with each strangely distorted syllable. What isn't, Jaskier wanted to joke in return, snicker a little at Geralt's frustration. But he couldn't, at least not without giving into opening his mouth, and besides, Geralt was already in a bad mood. Instead, he shrugged, a turn of phrase about tables that turned flitting through his thoughts, and he surely felt like he was on a turning table, not that any tables Jaskier had ever seen were exactly known for turning. 

"Is it your throat?" It was a reasonable line of thought for Geralt to stroll down, to be fair, considering the whole thing with the djinn. Gods, how he wished he had a djinn right now, less-than-stellar experience aside. If he had one, there'd be none of that bloody Valdo Marx bullshit; no, instead the forest wouldn't spin anymore, his brain and tongue would cooperate, and Geralt would be in a good mood. 

Jaskier really was doing a shit job of uplifting Geralt's spirits, wasn't he? At the very least, he'd managed to tease out the source of his foul temper; at present, it was Jaskier himself. He risked a peek out into the world again, found concerned amber eyes tucked under a tight scowl tilting like a leaf in the wind, and promptly squeezed them shut again. Oh, yeah. Geralt had asked him a question— what was it? Ah, it was gone now, too late. He shook his head, hoping he was actually answering. This was a mistake, because it sent stars erupting in the darkness and an unbidden groan worming its way past his lips. 

"What, Jaskier?" Geralt sounded even more exasperated, if such a thing were possible, and Jaskier flung a hand up to press over his mouth, as if that might help whatsoever; it didn't. 

"No— fuck, I'm—" In one clumsy motion he managed to tear himself back and away from Geralt, jerk to the side, and stumble over his own two feet and onto his knees just in time to escape vomiting on Geralt's boots. That was good; vomit on his boots would've really pissed him off. The weathered hand that had earlier cupped his chin (Jaskier could still feel the ghost of it on his skin) came to sit heavy between his shoulder blades. This touch not even Jaskier could make feel gentle.

"Okay," Geralt hummed, somewhere to his side. "Alright, okay." Was this Geralt's attempt at being soothing? How Jaskier wished he could tell him he appreciated it; maybe later, when his stomach wasn't still bucking uncooperatively like a spooked horse. This was funny, too; Roach in his stomach, kicking and snorting, but Jaskier was beginning to get tired of silly tangents.

Come to think of it, Jaskier was just tired, his limbs suddenly heavy, pounding in his skull coming into sharp focus. The hand migrated up to his collar, no doubt to tug him back upright, but he wrenched free and let himself drop to the dirt before Geralt had the chance. A nap sounded absolutely divine at the moment, and he was beginning to think he couldn't care less whether the witcher stuck around to wait it out or not. (This last detail was, patently, an absolute lie, and Jaskier knew it full well even as the thought first pattered into his consciousnesses.)

Geralt rolled him over, flipped him on his side, and this was both a small mercy (he hadn't been abandoned) and a horrendous blight (the sun glaring directly into his eyes, even as he pressed a clumsy hand to cover them again.) Another callused hand swiped across his forehead, his cheek, made its way down his neck and pried back his doublet. Jaskier wasn't sure what Geralt was looking for, and he also didn't particularly think he'd find it, whatever it was. 

"There's no fever," Geralt announced, as if this were some grand discovery, a breakthrough in medical sciences. "Something you ate?" Ah, so now Geralt was playing detective, and Jaskier had all but given up on his case; another reversal of roles. Well, maybe at the very least Jaskier could give him better clues, or at least try.

"Head," he groaned, rolling back onto his side, cool dirt not unpleasant against his skin. This time, no hands tugged at him, but instead Geralt gave a soft hum, barely distinguishable from the ringing in his ears. "Hurts," he tacked on because, while it might've been implied, with Geralt it never hurt to be explicit. 

"Now we're getting somewhere." That thrice-damned hand returned again, worked its way through his hair, dragging along every bump and curve until he scuffed against a half-healed scab and a sharp pain ricocheted through Jaskier's skull. He recoiled, writhing for a moment before curling even tighter into himself. "When did you hit your head?" That was a good question, because Jaskier wasn't all too sure anymore if he even had.

"Dunno," he mumbled. Now if only Geralt could put a pause to the interrogation so he might be afforded the small mercy of dying in peace. “River?”

"Helpful." Footsteps, echoing through the dirt and drilling through his head with each heavy footfall, further and further and further away until he could only feel, not hear, them. This was fine. Not the end he felt truly befit a heroic bard of his renown, but humble enough to satisfy him nonetheless. Just him and the trees as he returned to the earth from whence he was borne. 

Then those blasted footsteps returned, those hands hoisted him, and he was face-first on the scratchy wool of his bedroll. He nuzzled against it, like a cat (he really needed to ask Geralt for the name of that cat witcher his brother knew). 

"You have a concussion." A light flickered to life somewhere in his brain at this revelation. One of his grand mysteries, finally come to its disappointingly anticlimactic conclusion. He still didn't know why Geralt had been in such a piss-poor mood, but he decided that was a puzzle for another time, letting his breath even out with impending sleep.

"Jaskier, I need to know you understand me, okay?" As soft as his words were, Jaskier couldn't help but find it incredibly rude of him to interrupt his much-needed and well-deserved rest. If he kept pushing it, Jaskier thought, perhaps Geralt would be having to solve the mystery of why he was grumpy.

"Mmm, okay." This earned him another pat on the shoulder, as gentle a touch as anything Jaskier could ever hope for. 

"I'll need to wake you periodically to make sure you don't lose what little wit you have," Geralt informed him, "but you can rest now." He felt like a sinking ship, overcome with warmth. Loose-limbed and giddy, he jutted out a clumsy hand and flailed blindly until it flopped against Geralt's arm, and he latched on. "Just tell me next time you hit your head."

"Thank you," he managed to get out on the tail end of a breath, slurred with exhaustion, disappointed when the witcher carefully extracted his wrist from his grip. A blanket settled on top of him, and he fumbled to tug it closer. 

"Just sleep." Needing no convincing, Jaskier did as he was told. And in his dreams, Geralt was in a good mood, and he could still feel the ghost of his hand on that patch of skin on his chin. 

[hasliaran]

Undertale is owned by Toby Fox

Sooner or Later You’re Gonna be Mine is written by Staringback.

TimeHealsTale - Still a WIP by me.

Meet my undertale OC from TimeHealsTale which is an AU living rent free in my head. They are a canon MC that replaces the real Sans (age 5) after he got dumped into a tub of Void by Gaster to be forgotten.

Name: Comic Sans Du Font (Comic/Komi)

Age: 22 (5 years younger than canon Sans and 8 years older than Paps)

Job: Monster Healer that does House-calls. (Not a Judge; Sans disappeared because he was a Judge)

Profile in Game: Toriel’s Contact, The Smuggler, Summon Healer (after befriending; limited to 5 calls (diff. work phone no.); rapid calls will assume it’s a prank and not be picked up for a certain period of time.)

This is not her usual outfit but I just really wanted to post it.

In my head, the scene goes …

- she fell into the void trying to pull out a deformed still 5 years old Sans when she was going through her father’s stuff in his lab dungeon. (Occurred after the barrier broke)

- Sans was in a mega huge test tube floating in pitch black Void essence (frozen in stasis as no time passes through Void), so she couldn’t see anything or knew he was inside. Only after she accidentally tipped it over, smashing it to pieces, when trying to push it out of the lab that she realised there was an effing toddler inside it.

“Dad, seriously?” Comic got fed up already with the mess her father left behind after he got scattered.

- Cue her trying to grab the kid out of the muck only to fall in and be dropped down into another universe with the little one.

(Yes, this is the multiverse travel scene excuse and I love it)

Back then, Sooner or later your gonna be mine just uploaded a new comic chapter on YouTube. Hence, my brain went overdrive and said it’s a free real estate. So, I imagined the duo getting found by the skeleton brothers before the story started from rumours of them pillaging around trash sites, random food thefts and small skeletons offering up to do odd jobs.

Other skeletons than them, huh, curious.

Them skeletons in that story was already huge as heck though, now imagine a five a year old and a roughly five foot skeleton with a slight build running around what was essentially a mob era in the 1920’s.

The first thing that would go through their thick skulls was KIDS, THEY ARE KIDS, WHO HERE F***ED AND DIDN’T USE PROTECTION ?!

So much shenanigans from just trying to chase them down. ^_^

In the end, Komi and Void/V (little Sans; Komi’s not that creative at naming) were lured in by food, an offer for a roof over their heads and warm baths. Yep, tragic.

Little sans doesn’t look like a sans anymore here but a mere smooth skull shell with two big eye sockets and nothing else. I meant that literally. No lips or teeth as those were melted away and a pitch black body with stumps for legs. (look at Hollow Knight; Ghost but without the horns and has smoothen out round cheeks at least. I love that game.)

The last thing he remembered was that his aunt (step sister actually but he knows her as auntie) giving birth in the Underground Hospital and his uncle (Gaster) pushing him into a tub of black liquid, watching him drown.

And now he can’t talk since his lips is sealed shut.

Moreover, someone with his name who looks like a lot like his auntie and a bit like his uncle was dragging him around somewhere. It’s hella weird and confusing and he can’t cry properly. (Yes, HK reference here)

Yes, there is a story here for the duo that will coincide with SoLY’reGBM. Mostly, with Komi claiming Bara Sans courting skills were lame as hell no wonder Frisk ran screaming. This happen only at the time they were all comfortable enough to diss each other. Still, she and V were treated like sassy annoying younger siblings.

One’s assumed to be a teenager another a preschooler. So both were admitted to schools by force and with threats for Komi by Gaster since he didn’t want them in the house 24/7. Also to just enjoy the fact they have money now to send someone in their place to experience school. Papyrus here loves it that someone gets to experience and tell him all about while also not being the youngest in the family anymore.

Komi, in hindsight was 50/50 about it. Hating the idea at first before going, huh, maybe it’s not so bad… Hence the outfit up there. ^

She only has been to pre-school when her mother was alive and nothing else since, Gaster, her father, deeming it useless and only had been homeschooled by him. As much as you could call being locked in a room and told to read/answer these sheets of questions or not she’s never allowed to feed Papyrus as homeschooling activities. It happened in a period of when she was 10 - 14, so Paps would be 2 - 6. Damn well, she learned to memorise and spit everything out like a photocopier.

Seeing the Gaster in this universe sorta freaks her out. Making her wait to be ordered and when she doesn’t gets the order or the orders were just a pat on the skull and be told to behave, nothing else. She will proceed to look at him funny only to realise that oh, this is not dad. The three brothers can see that gal there has been through some shit and it’s not the fun kind. This also makes them question whether they should let them go back to wherever they came from, and that’s a whole other bag of fish to fry.

Komi knows they are a mob family, accepts it because hey her dad had a dungeon where he cuts up humans and eats SOULs for breakfast so why not this?

Only to find out they are pretty nice for a family and was this what a family suppose to be like? She liked it.

Komi with V/Void -, I will protect you my new baby brother that I have adopted at first sight with my body and SOUL. Which she does, she was raised with her Papyrus who was always aimed at gunpoint by her father. Basically, a rinse and repeat cycle situation in her eyes. Only to find out that no, nobody was out to get V!

She felt so gosh darn free in this universe but felt as though she was missing something all the time.

Yep, her found family from back home. So, definitely gotta get out of here somehow.

While also going to high school and befriending your adopted uncles’s enemy’s niece. Fuku Fire. Definitely not telling them what she did. They are gonna get so pissed.

Fuku - I have befriended the cool kid that’s not afraid to talk back against adults and was already a pro in home economics, who is also a skeleton Monster, meaning from a rival family. My parents and Uncle *pedo* Grillby must never know.

Comic will also be going through the motions of life here while figuring out how V’s powers work to send them back home and be getting a supply of Uncle’s favourite mustard since he’s been bitching about it every day by now.

He and Gaster will most definitely never know.

Nah, they know. Comic is a freaking blabber mouth that tells everything to this version of Papyrus just like she does in her own universe. Confirmed, she’ll be outed within 3 days by Paps and a fight about who she befriends was not their business.-at Gaster - who then sees it as an opportunity. Which leaves her storming out yelling they are all the same. Gaster and her Gaster.

Shit goes down that day, and everything went A-okay. Komi would make attempts to not overlap her father’s image over this guy because really, this Gaster is the farthest thing to her dad that’s a centuries old psychopath craving the secrets of the multiverse who would instead have not let her run out the house unscathed for yelling nor talked through things with her when she was brought back.

Darn guy was pretty nice.

Sans and Papyrus of this universe : who are you and what have you done to our brother?

G: What was that?

S&P: Nothing. S: (mutters under his breath) bias piece of sh*t

Then there’s that scene where they now got a new area to govern. Komi and V finds it weird but okay. *shrugs*. It felt like they were going to govern their territory or something. Sounds like basic Royal Guards one-o-one shtick her middle bro’s and friends’ kinda work. Seems simple enough.

It was not simple. I repeat, it was not simple.

G: No, we do not have to patrol the area.

G: No, we do not do shifts to monitor criminal activities.

G: It’s just an area that we will get a claim to.

G: But I need the humans here to be comfortable with Monsters, so I am going to let loose Papyrus on them. Since, we also have you two as well. Feel free to interact with the Humans. Tell me if anyone gives you three any trouble, Sans and I will personally deal with it.

S: wut? Yes? Yep, whatever he says goes. Better listen to your elders, brats.

P: Really, Sans?

C: So-, you want us to help around with the people in the area? Like charity work? Give free food and all that?

G: (how did she jumped to that? but otherwise, she’s not wrong.) … Yes-, that. Feel free to use your green magic on them as well if you have to but only when necessary. I don’t want you to suddenly disappear because your own loose lips.

C: Alright. (Does an excited fist pump) This is gonna be awesome~! …. Heyyy, did you just-

P: And I will be sure to guard them. (No arguing here from the other brothers)

V: (pouts and hand signed) N-O-T—B-A-B-Y

P: (could only stare at this being that barely reaches his kneecaps) Of course, little one.

All I know is, all of them are sassy sarcastic shits and there’s way more to be continued here.

So byeeee~

[tryingtobeclassy]

choi san . . . how real is your love : part I

part ii.

genre: San x female!reader, college au

description: While trying to get rid of an obnoxious ex you end up in a sort of unusual situation. A fake relationship. With none other than the biggest player on the campus - San.

word count: 4.3 k

warnings: swearing, alcohol

.         .         .          .          .

“Okay.”

…

“Yes. Alright.”

…

“Just fuck off.”

You finally ended the call and for a few seconds just stared at your phone feeling the anger still going up inside of you. Absolutely furious after the conversation, you slammed the notebook you were holding into the floor and giving yourself the freedom of letting out a scream as you thought you were the only one in the college hallway at that moment.

Turns out you were wrong.

“You good?” a male voice asked you, making you freeze in your spot. Anger washing away as embarrassment replaced it.

You turned around to see a guy sitting on the bench under the window, a somewhat worried expression on his face. You immediately recognized who it was and felt even more like just dying in the spot and letting the bugs eat your body. There probably wasn’t a single girl on campus who didn’t know who he was. Probably one of the best-looking men you ever had the chance to see up close and everyone seemed to agree.

San. From all the people who it could’ve been behind you, it just had to be San.

“I’m,, fine”, you barely pushed words out of you as your mind was in chaos.

It wasn’t even because you had a crush on him or anything. You kind of settled with the fact you’ll never get a chance to kiss him or anything despite his growing reputation of a player, you just didn’t think an average you would get to beat some other way prettier, but also pushier girls on campus. But you also didn’t want to just be one of the many on his list. It wasn’t really worth it. Your sudden lack of knowledge on how a human should hold a conversation was more because of how truly gorgeous this man was that it felt almost intimidating talking to him, but also because everyone freaking knew him, it felt like talking to a goddamn celebrity. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself, but of course when you don’t want that, it’s when your brain usually collapses to only a few last braincells.

“That was some intense phone call”, he commented, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.

As he mentioned the call, all the anger suddenly starts piling up again and your face instantly frowns. “Yeah… I guess some exes just like to be unnecessarily intense.”

…..

“Come on, babe. Just come to the party it will be fun”, your ex, Jonah, insisted on the other side of the phone.

“Three things. I said no. Don’t call me babe. And for the love of god, stop calling me!”

“Give me one good reason.”

You roll your eyes so hard they could’ve gotten stuck at the back of your skull. He truly was as persistent as a cockroach. It’s been a few weeks since you broke up with him and since then he never stopped being obnoxious and trying to convince you that you did a mistake and how you two were actually meant for each other.

“I have a boyfriend”, you suddenly lied. You didn’t really think too much about it, but as you said it, you didn’t regret it. You even thought it might actually be a solution to your troubles.

There was a short moment of silence from the other side before Jonah finally replied, “Oh really?” At the same time he sounded pissed as well as not really believing you. “Bring him as well then.”

Well shit. Gotta try and figure a way out of that one.

“Why the hell would I bring my current boyfriend to an ex’s party?”

“Because it’s a hot party everyone from campus would like to go to”, he said while sounding completely full of himself.

You sometimes really didn’t know what you saw in that douchebag.

“And also because I ain’t buying that crap”, he added.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“I’m guessing you’re saying that because he doesn’t really exist.”

You were angry by that point, but now you could just feel your body heat up from the amount that was building up. You knew you didn’t have to prove anything. In normal circumstances he would’ve backed up by now. Hell, in normal circumstance you wouldn’t even be having this conversation, but something inside you felt like this might actually be the solution. Even though a bad one. Just as bad as the whole idea.

“Fine”, you say aggressively, “I’m coming to your stupid party.”

“And your little imaginary boyfriend as well.”

“Okay.”

“Ten o’clock.”

“Yes. Alright.”

“Try not to lose him by then since he is invisible after all.”

“Just fuck off.”

…..

You somehow ended up telling San the entire story once he got curious and said he had experience with crazy exes and he might be of help when it comes to advice. So it was one of those ‘why the hell not’ moments. It’s not like you get to lose anything. He’ll know some personal info about you, but you’ll live. You might even get some piece of advice that could actually be helpful.

“That’s rough”, he says after listening to your story.

You felt good after venting to him for a bit. Feeling all the anger slowly calming and your mind not being set into ‘smash anything in sight to feel better’ mode.

“Yeah well, now I have three more days to find a fake boyfriend.”

“Have any plans?” he asked, looking insanely invested into the drama of your life. As if he’s watching a movie going live in front of him.

“I had a short thought that I could take my friend, but Jonah already knows him. He’s not stupid enough to believe it.” You let out a deep sigh, feeling annoyed from the situation you got yourself in. “Don’t really have a plan B yet.”

“I can act as your fake boyfriend if you want to”, he suddenly said. Just throwing that offer on the table. There. It’s here. What you gonna do about it?

“What? Are you serious?” you got extremely confused by how quickly he offered that and because of the fact he actually did.

He just shrugged his shoulders as if he just offered you to keep a pen you borrowed or something. No big deal for him. “Why not?”

You suddenly got really suspicious. “What’s in it for you?” you asked while squinting at him.

“I want twenty bucks…”

Sounds like a reasonable price.

“…and I want us to go to this one pizzeria near campus one Friday evening cause then they have a couples offer where you get free drinks.”

That one’s kinda unusual, but okay. Doable.

“You want to act as a fake couple just to get a free drink?” you asked, a bit of judgement crawling into your voice.

“I want to feel the satisfaction of getting something free. And doing something illegal.”

“I really don’t think fake dating to get a drink is against the law, but sure we can do that”, you said while doing your best not to laugh at someone who just offered his help. “Is that all?”

San seemed to think about it for a second before adding one last thing, “I want you to come to a family dinner.”

“Uh, why?”

“I have an older sister who constantly fucking ridicules me how I need to stop messing around with so much girls and try and be serious for once.”

“Kinda stupid. You’re like twenty. If you ain’t gonna mess around now, when will you?”

“That’s what I told her”, he yelled being all dramatic over it. “But yeah, those are my terms. We gonna do it or no?”

He suddenly turned serious starring at you with those dreamy eyes of his and you suddenly got hit with realization that the most desired guy on campus offered to be your fake boyfriend. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about it, but one thing you were sure about is that once Jonah sees him, he’s gonna get jealous. As in jealous. And that moment is the satisfaction you want.

“It’s a deal”, you say as you shook his hand, a smirk forming on your lips.

“How about we write a contract?” he suggests. “I want to have it written that you owe me money.”

You rolled your eyes, but still agreed because of which you ended at the nearest café. It was late afternoon by that time so the café was pretty empty. Everyone was either already done with classes or currently in one so it felt pretty peaceful as you drank you black coffee and kept writing down the discussed terms.

In the end the contract said:

This is a contract between San and y/n who have agreed to fake a relationship. Their fake relationship will be built on a few rules:

1.      San has to go to Jonah’s party with y/n

2.      y/n owes San 20$, a pizza date and attendance at one of his family dinners

3.      If needed the relationship may last longer

4.      neither side is allowed to have any  other relationships during this one

San wasn’t too happy about the last one, but as you assured him this entire act most definitely won’t last long, you both ended up singing it so it was officially settled. You stayed in the café for a little while longer just talking for a bit, getting to know each other a bit better. To your surprise, San wasn’t really what you imagined he’d be. He wasn’t all that full of himself or cocky and annoying for someone who was so popular and wanted. He was definitely confident, but he also had a somewhat softer side that only showed up for a second when he excitedly talked about a plush he sleeps with, but he immediately after changed the topic and asked you for your discretion and not to tell anyone at which you just laughed.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

Once you both finally finished the coffee, it was time to finally go home and prepare for tomorrow’s classes. Leaving the café, you said your goodbyes and prepared to go each in their own direction. But just as you wanted to turn around and leave, San suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to himself, your lips crashing against each other. You felt like your entire body decided to stop working, like your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped taking in air, the moment you felt his soft lips against your own. His other hand wandered behind your neck as he deepened the kiss for a moment before letting you go.

“What the hell was that?” you scream at him completely flustered while his lips just turned into a shape of a satisfied smirk.

“I wanted you to know what it’s like to kiss me”, he said as if it’s the most obvious thing. “It would’ve been suspicious if I kissed you for the first time in front of someone and you got all embarrassed and weird.”

“I’m not embarrassed and weird”, you complain despite feeling your face turning as red as a tomato.

“Whatever you say, babe”, he said through a smirk, putting weird emphasis on the word babe.

You wanted to yell something back at him, but thought it would probably be better to just leave it and finally go home. The dorms weren’t that far away from the café, but instead of going to your own room, you set off to a different floor and knocked on a door that didn’t belong to you. Few seconds later, Yunho opened.

“You won’t believe the day I had”, you said as you let yourself in and plopped down on his bed.

Luckily his roommate wasn’t there so you could freely tell all about your dramatic day to your friend.

“I literally feel like you won’t believe me.”

“What happened?” Yunho asked, sounding only half interested as he was occupied with a cup of instant ramen on his desk.

“I got myself a fake boyfriend.”

That sentence alone was enough to get his full attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“And the wildest part is”, you stopped for a second to make a dramatic pause even starting to swing around with your hands, “it’s San.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you”, was the only thing Yunho said after that.

You started to explain him the story from beginning to end. The phone call with Jonah, how San saw your angry tantrum and how it led to making a pact with his to have a fake relationship. Even the unexpected kiss at the end.

“Is he as good of a kisser as everyone says?” Yunho asked as his eyebrows were wiggling playfully.

You rolled your eyes for a moment. “I mean, you know. He’s decent”, you said trying to act cool.

“You think it will work?” he asked finally.

“I don’t think Jonah is smart enough to realize it so, yeah, I think it will work.”

You two talked for a little while longer before it was seriously about time you go to your own room and prepare for tomorrow.

You tried to occupy your mind with studying and all the college stuff you had to take your mind away from the party and Jonah, but also away from San as well. As much as you hated to admit it, you were kinda excited to act as his girlfriend. Not many girls manage to get that so you did feel a little bit special, even if it was all fake.

The three days went by too fast and it was already the day of the party. You haven’t seen San ever since the day you made the contract. Only texted to agree on a place and time of meeting each other. You were getting kind of nervous as you were rummaging through your closet. With a hot boyfriend, you wanted to look just as hot and not like some kind of gremlin next to him, so a seriously good outfit was needed. When you almost gave up on deciding on what to wear cause nothing seemed good enough and right after you threw yourself on the bed with an extremely loud and dramatic sigh, your roommate, Liv, exited the bathroom and found you in your despair.

“Still haven’t figured out an outfit?” she asked.

You let out a whiny ‘no’ to which she just laughed teasingly before opening her own part of the closet. “I can lend you one of my dresses.”

You immediately jumped in your spot as that was a wonderful idea. Liv had way more style than you and putting on any of her nice ass dresses will for sure make you look bomb.

“I think you should go for a classic nice black dress”, she commented while going through the hangers with clothes, you still just seated on the table as if you’re five years old again and waiting for your mom to pick an outfit for you.

With both of your strengths combined, you managed to make you look just like your goal was - hot as fuck. So you were finally ready. Liv was also going to the same party, but somehow she always starts getting ready when these kinds of things already start and shows up two hours late, but that’s fine. She wasn’t your concern right now. You were more worried about the actual party and how things will go. Will Jonah really believe your fake relationship? Well, there was only one way to find out.

You met with San on a little square nearby the house. In some nice pants and a simple shirt that he tucked in he looked casual, but still like he could walk the runway any moment. When you got close enough to him, he gave you a subtle scan from head to toe and added a nice compliment, “you look hot.”

“Thank you”, you said while flipping your hair like some kind of diva, but still felt your cheeks heating up a bit. “You look pretty nice too.”

The two of you had a nice little chat as you were walking towards the house. San turned out to be someone really easy to talk to. You somehow never had an awkward silence to get between you and the conversation would constantly just keep flowing. Something you didn’t expect, but you actually enjoyed talking to him. You always kind of had a prejudice that he would be insanely boring or that you just wouldn’t have any common topics to discuss. But turns out you were wrong.

“You ready?” he asked when you were so close to the house, you could hear the music blasting.

He slid his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to himself to which you almost let out a surprised squeal, but thankfully it managed to stay inside of you.

“I hope so”, you said as you could feel your heart start to beat up and it was hard to tell if the reason was San’s arm or the fact you’re about to face Jonah.

You were about half an hour late, but to your surprise the party already picked up. Music was so loud, you could barely hear anyone talk in certain parts of the house. Some people already managed to get drunk. And it was already so crowded that it was hard to move. You and San split up for a few moments since he settled for beer that was in the kitchen, but you wanted to find something stronger to get you through this night. And just as you were mixing yourself a drink, you felt a hand on your back. At first you thought it was San who came back after getting his beer, but unfortunately you found yourself face to face to Jonah. Already. And you couldn’t even get a drink to make all of this a tad bit more tolerable.

“Well, hey there, babe. I couldn’t help but notice that you’re alone”, he said, the nastiest smirk forming on his face.

“How many times do I have to repeat not to call me babe, asshole?” you asked, anger getting into your voice as you seriously weren’t having it.

“That’s harsh”, he said in a mocking kind of way. “So where’s this boyfriend of yours?”

He really wasn’t wasting no time before getting straight to the point, but it wasn’t enough to make you lose your cool.

“He went to get a beer.”

“How convenient.”

He seemed so full of himself. You could tell he was so convinced you were lying and probably convinced he’d have you in his arms again by the end of the night. An absolute idiot if he really did think you’d stoop so low.

He continued teasing you, subtly implying the whole time how your boyfriend story was obviously fake and you were just about to say something when San suddenly showed up next to you, sliding his arm over your shoulder and surprising you with a short kiss when you turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart”, he said casually before turning to face the man in front of you.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire for a second and you had to quickly collect yourself not to seem suspicious in front of Jonah.

“Who’s your friend?” asked San, despite being well aware of Jonah since you showed him pictures to be prepared.

“Not a friend”, you said, trying to make your voice sound as cold as possible.

The look on Jonah’s face was exactly what you hoped for and was the only thing you looked forward to that night. Complete surprise as he stared at San not knowing what to even say.

“This is the boyfriend you were so eager to meet, San”, you said with a mocking tone in your voice. “And San, this is my ex Jonah.”

“Oh, dude, sorry didn’t want to make it weird”, San immediately said and pulled his arm away trying to look like a decent guy who doesn’t want any trouble. “I’m gonna go dancing, so just find me after, okay?” he added and disappeared.

You were once again left with Jonah, but at this moment, you weren’t the slightest mad about it as Jonah still didn’t quite know what to say.

“Can you finally leave me alone now?” you asked while crossing your arms on your chest.

“San?” he asked with the most confused and almost angry look on his face. “From all the guys on the campus, how the fuck did you get him?”

“Are you saying I’m not good enough for him?” you asked and tried to seem mad although it was fairly amusing for you.

“I’m just confused.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is jealous.”

He let out a loud pfft to try and make you think how that was the most absurd thing you could’ve said. “Sure thing”, he said sarcastically before just walking away without another word.

Mission accomplished.

With a satisfied grin on your face you went to find San.

“How did it go?” he asked enthusiastically when you found him.

“Perfect. He looked like a little kid about to throw a tantrum and it was beautiful.”

San answered with a soft laugh, two cute dimples showing up that you didn’t notice before.

“I didn’t really have a plan from this point on”, you admitted.

He took a few gulps of his beer as he got lost in thought. “We definitely can’t break up after tonight, it would be too soon and suspicious.”

You kinda didn’t hate the idea of fake dating San for a bit longer, but you tried to play it as cool as possible. “You’re probably right. Jonah is an idiot, but I don’t think he’s an idiot of such a scale.”

“Well… Let’s not worry about him anymore and just have a good night. How about that, babe?” he asked and shoot you a playful smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the night went great. You finally got your hands on a drink and the moment you stopped thinking too much about Jonah and how this whole situation you got yourself into is quite odd, it got even better. San was extremely flirty the entire night. You were showered with attention, compliments and soft touches. It all felt a bit too real at some points. He even introduced you to his best friend Wooyoung as your girlfriend and didn’t give any further explanation.

“Who would’ve thought you’d actually stick with only one girl”, Wooyoung teased him a bit.

He was quite a character. Very charismatic, but also very funny and silly – almost like a little boy.

“Anyway, I don’t feel like third wheeling any longer so you two have fun”, he said. San tried to convince him to stay a bit longer, but soon enough you two were left alone.

Well not really alone. There was still a bunch of people around you in the hallway just trying to get away from the loud music for a second. And as it seems some people you didn’t want there as well.

“Okay, don’t look, but your little ex has been sort of following us half of the night”, San said as he subtly eyed one end of the hallway where Jonah probably was.

“Jesus, I thought I was crazy when I kept seeing him”, you said as you rolled your eyes, anger once again crawling back into your voice.

You were about to say something else, but you were surprised by San suddenly leaning a lot closer to you. You were already standing with your back against the wall and once he leaned his forearm on the wall above you and leaned forward, the space between you was almost non-existent.

“I’m pretty sure I know how to get him away.”

He was so close you could feel his breath on you and it made your body heat up once again that night. Before you could even say anything he moved into a short kiss. It was so short, you weren’t even sure whether it happened and once it was over he moved a few inches, just enough to see your expression, as if he was evaluating your reaction.

“Is that all you got?” you suddenly asked, confidence you didn’t know you got pilling up inside you and a playful smile stretching on your lips.

He didn’t give you what would be considered a usual answer. But instead you were met with his lips once again as this time he wasn’t holding back. They were soft and tasted like alcohol. He grabbed you by your waist to pull you even closer to him that you could feel his entire torso pressed against yours and a wave of heat suddenly washed over you. Your hands wandered around his neck and into his hair. It was soft. So incredibly soft.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that. You were completely immersed into the moment. Kissing him felt like nothing ever before. It felt so passionate. Like all he wants is to keep you in his arms and kiss you forever.

Once the kiss broke and you both gasped for air, you just let out a half awkward laugh and lightly smacked him on the chest.

“Not bad for the biggest player on the campus.”

You stayed at the party for a little while longer before complete tiredness got the better of you and you made your way home. The rest of the night and probably the whole weekend, you spent in constantly thinking about it. About Jonah, about San. Especially about San and this whole fake relationship that he really devoted himself to the part. You weren’t sure what to think of it, but one thing was for sure. You can’t catch feelings. And that’s final.

[marie-lamb-b]

The Ink DeMonth. Day 9: Favorite Ship.

No one should ever croos paths with an angry, frustrated, livid Music Director. Guess say Wally was just unfortunate…

Well, kinda pretty late ^^U

I still can’t say is my fave/fave ship, but is the only one I’ve been able to think about the last month and a half, so I guess they’re just growing on me~

And sorry, I got carried away. This thing has over 8.4K words and I honestly didn’t expect this to be so long Dx

But if you still are willing to take a look, enjoy it!! ^3^

(Trigger Warnings: Foul language, Verbal humiliation, Implied homophobia)

Day of rage

This was a bad day. Bad, bad, in every single sense. Bad sleeping, bad morning, bad breakfast, bad trip to work. Bad, annoying, frustrating. Everything. Was. Bad.

Being usually moody and gruff was one thing; being faced to a severe writing block and frustrated all over every single note he put on paper was way another level of anger. And it was better for anyone in the studio to stay away from him, as his mood was so tense that he was even able to tell the president himself to go fuck himself.

If only Wally didn’t disturb him…

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, FRANKS. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A MORON!” The oh, so unfair scolding could be heard from the music department hall. “You can’t even do 1 single fucking thing right!” Norman flinched as he walked off the infirmary, Jack hiding behind him. “But no, of course you can’t. why would I have thought you could?!” Even the window from his office trembled with how loud the frustrated musician was being.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry. I just–”

“I DON’T WAN’T ANY OF YOUR EXCUSES, KID!” He cut him off, not wanting to hear anything from the poor janitor about whatever fault he had committed. “Now I want you to stop meddling here around and GO TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB!” He sentenced with a rage fist smashing against his own desk, making it shake and sending down to the floor a pile of sheets and paperwork precariously balanced; right were the janitor’s mop and dirty water was laying.

The fall was as in slow motion for the wide eyes of the young man, and he acted quickly in hopes of saving the musician’s hard work. Albeit for his misfortune, the sole idea he concreted to successfully save the fluttering sheets was to kick away the bucked and mop, causing quite a mess at the other side of the man’s office.

For a second, he could have felt pretty pride for his quick action in such a desperate moment. But the musician did not allow such instance, as he was the closest to literally fuming out of rage over the janitor’s reaction.

This day started bad, and was about to get worse for the younger man.

“THE FUCK HAVE YOU JUST DONE!” Sammy shrieked, and Wally flinched.

“Mi– mi– mister Lawrence, I– I…” He stumbled on his words as he dropped in the floor, picking up clumsily the papers the other man just threw with his rage.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE SHIT FROM YOU!” His voice thundered, and Wally froze in the spot. “Get. Out. Of my office.” He hissed rather menacingly.

“Bu– But Mr. Lawrence, I have ta clean up tha–!”

“GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!” He sentenced violently, and Wally stared with panicked eyes. “I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!”

And just like that, every bit of air escaped of the janitor’s lungs as if he was knocked. He felt his eyes starting to sting, and for a much sharp hearing, even could be perceived how his heart just broke.

Numb, in attempt to hide the pain the man’s rage caused over him, Wally simply stood up, leaving the papers he got to pick up on the desk, tilting his cap as to hide his stare in its shadow, and turning around towards the door, reaching for his mop and bucket in the process.

“Understood, Mr. Lawrence.” He said low and quietly as he left, leaving the enraged man panting with his glare lock on him even through the window, as if making sure the janitor won’t ruin anything in his departure.

Once he was absolutely out of sight, Sammy paced by his office, only to slip on the soapy water of the damn bucket that stupid boy left unattended, falling back and hitting his head hard. He let out a painful grunt; he should have let the boy to clean up before kicking out the poor janitor…

*-*-*-*-*

“What’s wrong with Wally?”

“I have no clue at all…”

“Didn’t you hear all that shouting from Sammy’s office?”

“You should never cross path with that man when he’s in such bad mood.”

“That guy is the front-man of any anger campaign.”

“Wally didn’t deserve such treat. He was just doing his job!”

“Well, what could be done? He was just the one being there to receive the blow. Wrong time and wrong place, I guess…”

“Wait, did Sammy hit the boy?!”

“Don’t take my words out of context!”

“Whatever happened, it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like any could fix what’s already done…”

*-*-*-*-*

The word spread easily around the studio, and soon pretty much everyone –except those too busy to get out and chat– knew about the raging music director and the poor janitor that was there to serve as punching-sack for the former.

But even if they all wanted to catch in the last of the studio’s savory rumor, no one really expressed real, earnest concern, as the young man, listening to all of their bickering, trying to asking him something about further details, wouldn’t mind them. He just passed by, complying with his duties, and left with no more than a couple of courtesy words. No one really cared, as no one really knew how deep this was really affecting the janitor, except for Norman.

The taller man made his way towards Sammy’s office, easy going. Any other rage day he would just avoid the man, not willing to be involved in unnecessary quarrels, but the heartless way he treated the young janitor actually made him set up his mind. Not like he was up for a senseless fight with that man, after all, that’s right what he pretended to callback into that man: sense.

Reaching the musician’s door, he knocked to make his presence noted. “Hey, Sammy. How you doin’?” Only a muttered growl he received as answer; obviously wasn’t the right question to ask, but he couldn’t care less. His sight wandered to the office’s surroundings, and he locked his stare in the wet spot that took over the entrance zone of the room. “Mind to explain why’s wet all the place?”

“Because that stupid kid kicked his bucket there.” Sammy grumbled. Now that Norman was seeing clearly he could notice the man’s back was pretty much soaked. Definitively wasn’t going to touch that topic.

“Why would he do so?” He inquired again, earning a soft growl easily compared to a dog which food was taken off its muzzle. “Sorry to tell I didn’ get a word of you say.”

“I SAID,” He rose his voice, quite loudly. “How would I know how that moron’s head does work? He just did it.” He stated dryly, though Norman knew better, and a slight wobble in his tone was one of hiding things.

“…Yeah, sure, because he loves make you angry and get in your bad side.” He retorted, waiting for another of the same tone from Sammy but only silence lingered, leaving space for him to insist. “Seriously, why did so?”

“…because some sheets of mine almost fell over the bucket…” He admitted, his voice lowered.

“Almost?”

“Ok. They FELL over the bucket. He kicked it out of the way.” And slouched over his desk.

An appreciative hum, and Norman kept inquiring. “Why did ‘em fell?”

Silence; shoulders hunched, almost as if trying to turn as tiny as he could.

“Sammy…”

“I DROP THEM! Happy?” He finally turned to face the projectionist, red face but at this point could be said it was more over shame than rage. He was panting, trying to keep his rage façade, but Norman only shook his head in disapproval.

“And even though you called out on the boy as if he really was just horsin’ around only to piss you off.” And Sammy turned back over his desk, gripping his hair in frustration but struggling to not voice it out loud. He heard Norman clicking his tongue in reprehension before leaving. “That boy don’ deserves you…”

Sammy’s head shot up at the phrase, but when he turned to ask the projectionist what he meant the man already left; actually, already was half way the hall near the organist room, never turning back and holding his hands behind.

What did he just say? What did that even mean?! Ugh, that only made him feel confused and that turned only in more anger. Just perfect, now he won’t be able to focus in his already useless task.

*-*-*-*-*

No. Wrong. Trash. Piece of shit! Nothing came out right! At this point not even the sheets Wally rescued for him were useful anymore, as now they were part of a steadily growing pile of crumbled rejects all over the floor.

So now he just was there, head against the desk, swallowing back every urge to shout out loud even the deepest of the growls. Vain attempts that were interrupted by the delicate sound of the squeaking hinges of his door. He peeked over his shoulder and started to shot daggers to the unwelcomed visitor.

“So– so– sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but I can’t find–…” Wally stammered, feeling the scorching glare of the man as if was carving holes through his skull. He still wasn’t forgiven… “Ah… Nevermind, Mr. Lawrence. I’ll just look somewhere else. Sorry fer interrupting ya…” And with no more fanfare than a soft mournful murmur, he left.

The door closed softly and the steps of the janitor marching away were quiet. Sammy just watched him through his window, reaching to see the young man meeting with the projectionist at the end of the hallway. Some words were exchanged; a sag on the younger’s shoulders, lying his head on the elder’s chest, to finally be held on a side hug and be leaded out of sight by the taller man.

And as he watched, Norman’s words resonated in his mind again, turning him again thoughtful, for it to be turned in confusion, to it to be turned in anger again.

He had no time for such senseless shit.

He got back over his desk, rather abrupt must say, and he tumbled his empty mug down the table. Lucky him, it fell on the trashcan where a pile of discarded sheets lied. He lunged to pick it up, but a clinking sound caught his attention.

Wally’s keys…

*-*-*-*-*

Ugh, this was pointless! What a waste of precious time, and still can’t go and get a single. Fucking. Note written down. How could be so hard deciding between a F sharp and a G flat?

Worst of all, his head was starting to pound heavily. He really needed a coffee.

He straightened up in his chair, ready to call the janitor as he usually prepared his coffee around the noon (what kind of services did Joey put him on charge, he still didn’t understand). But he froze as he recalled the events of the day. Could he call him to ask him his usual just like that? And think on the matter felt like a punch to his pride, but something else clenched in his chest.

Deliberating, he almost made up his mind: if he wanted a coffee, he’ll need to go to the break room, meaning he’ll need to get out of his office… and that’s just aside of all those chit-chattering employees that always liked to meddle their noses in whatever wasn’t their business. Ah, he wasn’t in the mood to tolerate any of that. But in the other hand, if he didn’t he wouldn’t get his coffee, and gosh, he really needed it…!

…

Well, he better got through those bothering pests just for a while; luckily everyone noticing his mood there won’t be a soul who’d dare to do more than step out of his way.

And so he stood up, and reluctantly he abandoned his office.

*-*-*-*-*

“C’mon, Wally. We can’t help you if you don’t tell what’s happening!”

“Nothing’s happenin’, Ms. Campbell.” Wally answered quite monotonous. “Ya don’ need to worry yerself, but thanks for tha concern.” His smile was polite but notoriously strained.

He was cleaning the tables from the breakroom. It was soon to be noon and with it comes the lunch break and he was commanded to clean it all up before and after lunch there.

“But surely there’s something I could help, ain’t it?”

“I appreciate yer offerin’ but fer real. I just havetta end cleaning this up–…”

Everything went silent when the door squeaked open, and whoever was there doing whatever just froze at the sight of the music director. He stood up there, feeling their fearful but scrutiny stares, and he scorned in response, descending the flight of stairs.

“I– ah…” Wally stammered, but released a sigh. “I finished cleanin’. I’m outta here…”

Tilting his cap down once again, he picked up his cleaning tools and left the room rather quickly, nearly tripping over the musician but avoiding him at a safe distance in the end.

Sammy just looked at him, although too tired for glares this time. Shrugging it off, he made his way to get some coffee, being joined by Susie in the process.

“Rough day, eh Sammy?” She teased a little, but he just huffed. “Why don’t you stay and have lunch with us? It’ll help your soul! …You do have a soul, don’t you Lawrence?”

Although the musician was on the verge of fuming, he just limited to heavily sigh by his nostrils and turn to her with the most constricted face he could muster.

“My soul is pretty much contented with just coffee, thank you very much.” He turned and started to look around the counter. “Ugh, where is the cream? Isn’t there anything in this god dammed place?”

“What are you talking about?” She questioned as started to stab the jar of clustered sugar with her spoon. “With how cheap Joey is, we are pretty lucky to have sugar here! Although I’d like the guys stop to using their wet spoons when taking it. Gosh, this is so hard!” She hissed as she kept stabbing the jar, and when a few grains got stick to her spoon, she took it in her mouth and then kept stabbing. All under the watchful presence of the horrified music director.

Besides the display of shameless ill-mannered Susie, he couldn’t help the train of thoughts that flooded his mind. Wally always prepared his coffee with cream and two sugar cubes… Sure, the first time he told him as a joke that’s the way he drank his coffee, but he always made his cup that way since. How could he, if they barely had that watery coffee with taste of socks and that jar of stone they pitifully called sugar grains?

Susie stopped, seeing him frozen in spot, seemingly staring at the jar she held in her hands.

“You want some?” She offered and that seemed to take him off his thoughts, as he looked at her, then the jar, and then he shook his head with disgust and a new gruff.

“Forget it. I’ll just have it black.”

And after preparing it, he left.

*-*-*-*-*

Definitively didn’t worth it, that beverage tasted as bad as he thought: as sweat soaked socks. How he could recognize such flavor, better now question it too deeply, as it only made his already insufferable headache to worsen.

The only thing in his mind was to return to the comfort of his messy and littered and wet office as soon as he could. But when he was about to turn the corner leading to his office’s hallway, he couldn’t help but hear a distressed sob.

Curiosity poked and he stopped his pace; the mopping came from the recording room. He stood on the inner threshold, he could hear it, but no one was there. At least not that he could see.

“Why do I even keep tryin’? He hates me!” Was that Wally?

“No, he don’. You just found ‘im in the worst moment possible, that’s all kid.” Oh, so they were at Norman’s booth.

Sammy stayed close to the threshold, out of sight. What were they talking about?

“No, Mr. Polk. It’s not tha first time. Today was tha worst but…”

“Kid, with all honesty, he treats everyone like trash. It’s not somethin’ against you, I’m sure of that.”

Were they talking about him?

“But… but all I ‘ave done for ‘im? I just– keep tryin’ and tryin’ but I’m no more than a fly on tha wall for ‘im!”

“You know how oblivious he’s. An elephant could be dancin’ tap right next to ‘im and he wouldn’t notice! And if he do, prob’ly he would just shot daggers thru his eyes before even question why there’s an elephant in his office.”

Ok, he wasn’t that oblivious, although he’d never been in such situations to argue back. At least that last joke did make the young janitor to release a chuckle, albeit weak.

“Heh, yer probably right…” Silence, barely his hiccupping sobs could be heard. “I’m not like an elephant, do I?” He sounded fearful.

“Neh, you’re not. First place you’d need a trunk sticking outta your face!”

“Mr. Polk, ya know what I mean…!” Barely above a whisper, it was hard for Sammy to catch what he said; not impossible, just hard. But a tight silence followed that statement.

“…No, kid. You’re not…”

Knowing Norman’s personality only fluctuated between a bad timing jokester, easy-going, severe paternalist or straightly intimidating, it was strange to find him being so comprehensive and supporting– at least by what he could take by his soft and quiet voice.

He stood a little longer in there, but the only thing that broke the silence was the hiccupping sobs of the janitor. Sobs that were product of a distressed boy– man, that only was doing his job and had a little accident that actually was the musician’s crew fault!

Did he really shout that bad to him? By the time he already forgot what he said to the poor janitor. Was that bad? Was he so out of his mind to made him believe he hated him?

I don’t want to see your goddamn face! Ever!

Oh, gosh… did he really said that?! No surprise he believed Sammy hated him. And Wally also said about things he tried before, what did he mean? What else had he tried?

Wait…

Why was he thinking all of this? Goddammit, Sammy. It’s not like it mattered!

But then why he felt his chest so clenched and his throat so tight?

Everything was so confusing and annoying!

Just annoying…

He gave a last glance to where the booth was located, and with a sigh and soft steps, he made his way back to his littered, soaked, messy office with a cold cup of watered, tasteless, sock-flavored drink that couldn’t even be called coff–

Between what he expected from what he remembered, what he found could be called having got into another dimension, one of tidiness, organization, even bright dimension. Every sheet of paper he discarded was taken away, and a new pile of blank sheets lied on his desk. There was no more a wet spot, but a spotless, clean and shiny floor. Even the keys he found earlier in the trash can were no longer there, taken. But what baffled the musician more was the steaming mug just in the middle of his desk; the cream still as a lump atop, slowly sinking in the beverage, and two bright sugar cubes aside, ready to be dropped in the hot drink.

Glancing between that mug and the one he brought from the break room, he slowly approached to his desk, taking seat and leaving the later next to the other. He dipped his pinkie in the steaming one; hot indeed, but the cream made it smooth. And the sugar… the only sugar the rest of the studio crew could get in here was from that clustered jar, so how was that he could have pristine sugar cubes? Or more like, if Wally was the one making it, how was that he had those…?

The brightly clean office, the new stack of paper, the steaming coffee…

He still made all of these things even when he believed Sammy hated him…

He shouted at him, he mocked of him, treated him like he was an idiot, an illiterate child, as if he was too dumb to notice anything around him, like how the world worked, how people worked…

…or more like how Sammy worked…

He slouched in his desk, clasping his hair tight in his fingers as he let the steam hit his face.

Norman was right. Wally didn’t deserve him.

*-*-*-*-*

Can’t say it got easier along the day, although he could manage to not drop a piece until the entire sheet was useless scrap and that actually made the littered pile– now appropriately thrown in the can instead the floor– to be smaller in the last 6 hours of works versus all he threw away in just the first three.

By the time most of the studio members were already gone, the ones remaining were just busy with the last tasks of the day.

Regardless, what Sammy was currently doing hardly could be called a task, as he remained thoughtful for nearly two hours already. He tried to distract himself with the music, with his compositions, but no avail, and these thoughts lingered in his mind shouting to be noticed, and so he did.

At this point he couldn’t even give himself the privilege to feel angry, irritated and frustrated over those ideas that didn’t leave him alone, as he was worn down, too tired to try even, and so those ideas just settled in him.

Not like he was going to admit it anyways…

A knock on his door and a jerk from his side due the suddenness; Norman was there.

“Hey Sammy, work time’s over.”

There were so many things that Sammy could answer, from his usual sarcasm with something like ‘don’t you tell me’, to just flip off his middle to the man with not even bothering to turn around. But his rage storm had simply worn him down, and now he barely gave a mute shrug as an answer, sinking deeper on his desk.

Norman glanced around. He knew Wally took his chance to clean up this office while the music director was out, but he had never seen it lasting almost as pristine by the end of the day. There were still crumpled sheets on the trashcan, but curious was that it was actually used as trash can instead of littering the whole floor as he did in the morning. It almost seemed like he was being careful about the work of the janitor.

“Huh, this place looks neat!”

“What do you want, Norman?” He finally snapped.

“Just makin’ sure how you doin’. You had a really tough day after all.”

“Sure that’s all…” He muttered and laid his head on the desk flatly. “Nothing else you want to mom me about?” Alright, he opened the chance to drop it.

“You should go and apologize with Wally.”

And despite his weariness, he couldn’t help the grunt to form in his throat as he turned to the man.

“Why do you care so much about that? It’s not like if you were his dad!” And the way Norman shook his head, so filled with disappointment, actually hit him hard.

“I wish I would be. That kid really ‘ave had a tough time.”

“Yeah, sure, because is so hard to swift a broom from side to side.” He turned back, quite ashamed even if he wasn’t going to admit it. Such answers were the ones that most naturally came even if he didn’t mean it by the time.

“I can’t believe you still don’ get it.” Norman finally walked in, and that cornered feeling was dreadfully palpable, even if the musician still refused to look at him. “After all this time, with all the things he done for you…”

“Where do you want to get with this?”

He paused his march, right behind of him. His towering shape projected a shadow that lunged over his reduced figure in the chair.

“Sammy…” The man swallowed hard, feeling the sweat trickle down his forehead. Why he felt so nervous over the projectionist? “Sammy, stop it.”

“Stop what?” He said back, albeit his voice betraying his so called steadiness.

“Just stop bein’ such an oblivious idiot and look at Wally for the first time in your damn life! Can’t you see the boy is dyin’ for you?”

As if a rope tied to his chest tugged him forcefully, he felt the air in his lungs abandoning him for an agonizing moment, as he shot up and shoved away his chair to turn and face the man standing behind.

He… wasn’t as close as he thought, but that look so full of disapproval still burned him coldly.

“Wha– what… do you mean?”

“Really still? Haven’t you noticed how he usually like to spend more time here ‘round, despite he’s the sole janitor in this whole goddamn place? Or how he seems to smile widely at you?”

“That means anything, he’s always smi–”

“What about that coffee that he always make for you? I saw you goin’ to the break room, you can’t be so blind to not notice there’s no cream nor fancy sugar cubes up there.”

Sammy kept his mouth shut, barely could stand that accusatory stare from the man in front of him.

“What about the way he always shrug off every time you mock of him or yell at him, givin’ you a smile and respondin’ to everythin’ you ask ‘im to do?” Norman kept talking, and Sammy couldn’t help but glance aside, casually seeing the aforementioned janitor getting into the organ room, pipe-cleaner in hand and his cap still tilted down hiding his frown. Sammy felt his chest tight, the weight of shame barely bearable. “That kid’s no dumb as you think he is, but he’s still willin’ to do anythin’ as long as he could see you around. But to be honest, I could think he’s a fool myself for bein’ so invested in you.”

Sammy side-glanced the man in his office, trying his best to straighten up his face but was too constricted to look natural.

“Why… are you telling me all this?” He hesitated, but asked anyways.

“Becos I’ve seen the boy. All this infatuation thing has gone since quite a time, longer than I got to know, and the more time it pass, the more he drowns with no knowin’ if his efforts really worth the shot– or shots. So I tell you, so you now can go and ground his mind where it has to be. So go! Tell ‘im you’re not interested, shatter his heart, I don’ really care. But the less the kid deserves is a closure, and only you can give it to ‘im.”

With that final statement, Norman left his office, walking away and out of sight. And once he was sure he was all alone again, he allowed himself to sit back in his chair, askew for shoving it and conveniently looking to the hall, where the door that lead to the organ was kept ajar, where the man the projections was talking about just a moment ago was located.

He hunched, gripping his head on his hands as once again those thoughts about the young janitor flooded his mind. The so many times he called him idiot, moron, stupid, too immature to understand, that he was too childish with that smile always stuck on his face, how he couldn’t understand how people worked…

…seemed like all of this time he was the one that couldn’t understand it…

Was he really such a disgusting person?

Why even would Wally like him… after all he had done to the poor kid…?

*-*-*-*-*

Wally was cleaning up the pipes of the organ. It was the best he could do by now as he waited for the people to finally leave the studio– and maybe then he could go and enclose him in a forgotten room and cry out loud what he had been bottling up the entire day. At least he knew this task was quite demanding, polishing the pipes in and out, taking off every bit of dust and the pipes would look as bright as new. Yeah, this would keep him perfectly busy–

The hinges squeaked open to then the door be pulled shut, eating away every bit of light right before the lights up were turned on. Steps behind; someone was approaching.

“Wally…” Oh, great. Just when he thought he could last until he left at least…

“He– hello, Mr. Lawrence!” He weakly greeted, not daring to turn behind as his eyes were already stinging. “Do ya need somethin’ I could help?”

“Actually…” Swallow back your pride, Lawrence! “I needed to talk to you…”

“Oh…” He muttered so eloquently, as he lowered his arms and gripped on the edge of the massive instrument. “And what is it?” He didn’t dare to look at him.

“I–…” A bite of his own tongue, hindering his speech. “I… I just…” C’mon, only two miserable words! “Ah! I’m sorry, ok? I shouldn’t have treated you that way. It was unfair and the accident wasn’t even your fault, and you… don’t deserve the way I treat you. I’m… I’m sorry…”

Deep and slow breaths, Franks. Deep and slow. Don’t quiver.

“…Thanks, Mr. Lawrence. I… accept yer apologize…” He managed to say rather flatly. But he felt him, he was still there. How long would he be able to resist…!

“Aren’t you gonna say something else?”

Oh, God. What he meant?! Say what?

“I, ah… I’m… sorry, Mr. Lawrence. I shoulda been more careful with all them stands and I–”

“No, not that! I already said that wasn’t your fault!” He cut him off, and Wally felt cornered. What did he mean? “Really, nothing to say?” What did he want?! “Could you at least turn around?”

Wally felt his blood run cold. Face him?! He couldn’t do that too quickly or else he would burst with all the emotions he had kept inside. So he took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes with his forearm’s sleeve, and slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back, never releasing his grip on the edge of the organ.

Well, there he was, albeit cap still tilted and shadowing his face.

“Take off your hat, please.” The janitor whimpered, as he knew it wasn’t a request but an order. He took it off, revealing finally his distressed countenance. “Really you have nothing to tell me?”

“I– I– I, ah, I’m… Mr. Lawrence, am so– sorry, but I ‘ave no idea of what–”

“Norman told me.”

Wally shot wide open his eyes, panic crawling up from the bottom of his stomach. He felt it, as his heart skipped more beats than he could notice and the air abandoned his lungs as if he received the worst blow he could ever resist.

“So?” He started to walk, getting close to him.

“Mi– mister Lawrence, please! No– no need to fuzz about it. I– it– it’s not what ya think!” He tried to placate, but with every step closer the more cornered he was. “I– it’s nothin’, for real! Please, I promise I don’ bother ya anymore!” He was standing right in front of him, an arm away. And he couldn’t control any longer the tears prickling down his eyes and the whimpered high pitch of his voice. “I– I– I’ll stay away from ya, I promise! But please don’ tell Mr. Drew, I know I’m disgustin’ but please I don’ wanna lose this job! I’ll stay away, I promise! P– please don’ tell ‘em, don’ tell anybody! I won’ bother you anymore but please–…!”

“Wally.” Sammy cut his rant off as he grabbed his hand… gently… “Wally, stop it. I didn’t come for it so don’t need to worry about it. I came to know…” He lowered his stare, fixing it onto the hand he was holding. “…to know if that’s true…” He looked back at him, and though his prominent frown never abandoned him, Wally could tell, even with his racing mind, that those eyes never had looked so… soft, even concerned.

The silence stretched for a while, and though the musician showed an amount of patience he had never done before, those eyes, soft, sweet, concerned, frown eyes still begged for an answer. But the janitor’s eyes were drowned in tears and his throat was tightly closed, so the only response he could give was a whimpering nod.

Sammy sighed, and his look wandered to anything around before returning to the young man’s face.

“Why…?”

He swallowed heavily, but his mouth was too dry still. “I– ah, I swear I don’ know. If even I could make it work right, dunno, looking for Ms. Campbell instead, but I–”

“That’s not what I’m asking!” He said rather louder, and the janitor flinched whimpering. Sammy recoiled, lowering his volume. “I mean… why… me? I… I haven’t treated you with anything but despise, insulting you and even making mock of you…! Why then?”

“I don’ know… I don’ know, I swear! I just… saw you tha first time and though–… I thought ya were–… I just… wanted to make ya happy somehow, I don’ know! I just–…” tears upon tears, his cheeks were a constant waterfall. His mind was already racing and his heart beating painfully with fear; how could he articulate what he never understood in first place?

“Wally…” Sammy called him; the weight of guilt and shame was already lead in his stomach, and seeing him so distressed didn’t do any favors to him. “Wally, stop crying…”

“I can’t…” his voice wasn’t above a whisper. “I can’t…! I can’t, I’m scared…!”

“Of what?” Silence, only interrupted by the janitor’s whimpering. “Why are you scared?”

“Of ya knowin’…! Knowin’ tha truth and tell ‘em! Of them thinkin’ I’m a deviant, a mistake! That ya– that ya’ll really– really hate me for this!” His sobs were cutting his voice, hiccups between his words. “That ya beli– believe I’m a– a freak! That ya– ya hate me for re–e–al!”

He couldn’t help it anymore, and his cry just burst with the same shock of a little child lost and afraid. His hand holding his cap was so tight that almost hurt, and he fought to not grip the other man’s hand as hard or worse. His legs were wobbly, he just wanted to plump himself right there and recoil to a dark narrowed corner, to be left alone with his grief. But Sammy didn’t allow it, not with the way he was looking, nor with the way he held his hand, nor with the way he reached with his arm behind him and pulled him in a tight hug, releasing his hand to be able to engulf him, pulling Wally’s head onto his shoulder and muffling his sobs as he stroked his hand on his hair, and trying hard to keep together all of those pieces the janitor was tearing apart from himself.

“Wally, no. I don’t hate you…” He never heard his voice so low and soft, and him talking so close to his ear made the goosebumps to mix with his already shivering body. “I can’t even think about it; with all you’ve done for me… but… I’m the one who can’t notice the elephant dancing…”

Wally barely could believe it; Sammy Lawrence, the Sammy Lawrence, tried to humor him! But albeit his efforts, he couldn’t do more than just sigh as a weak imitation of a laugh with a wobbling frown.

“The truth is…” The musician continued. “…that I… I really can’t get relationships… I just can’t…! Not even as a child, not even making friends. I always kept my mind straight forward and whenever I was teased about if someone liked me, I just booked it, just thinking that they were a bother. But now, with all that you’ve done for me, all you’ve been through for me and what Norman told me… I just… I can’t believe I’m so oblivious! And treating you the way I did… I’m so sorry I never had idea. I really am.”

They stood that way, Sammy making sure Wally would calm down eventually as he stroked his hand up and down through the janitor’s head and neck, even downer to his back. Time didn’t matter, he just wanted to make sure he’d be okay. And when he felt the young man’s hiccups recede and his shoulder no more damp than it already was, he pulled him away, enough to be able to see his swollen red and tired eyes, but keeping him close as he held him by his shoulders.

“Wally?” The man mentioned felt so tired, exhausted, he didn’t think he would be able to react to anything the music director could throw at him anymore; perfect instance to be dropped gently.

“’m okay, Mr. Lawrence…” He held the man’s wrist, ready to pull him off him when the bomb was dropped. “Thank ya. I really appreciate yer apologize and all ya been with me, for real, but… I know what comes now, so if ya–”

“You know?” Sammy questioned, not allowing him to drop his hands from his shoulders. “Franks, I didn’t come here to tell you a lousy story of why I don’t hang out with people. I didn’t come here to tell you a sad story of my childhood, nor I spent half an hour in my office trying to think of a way to tell you I’m sorry for you to just shrug me off in the end.”

Wally’s tears stopped from how dumbfounded he was. The idea of not being all opened a new race of thoughts as the same time he found himself frozen in spot, trying to articulate anything, mind begging for an explanation, but only able to mumble incoherently, fear rising up his throat as his eyes widened in growing panic. Signs luckily caught by the musician.

“Wally. Wally, stop it. I told you, I didn’t come for it. So better stop it and listen… please.” He added as trying to placate the sever tone he used to use, as he held the younger man steady. “Wally, I came… I just… What I’m trying to… Arg!” Sammy roared frustrated, tensing up and not noticing how tight his grip on the janitor’s shoulder was getting.

“Mir– Mister Lawrence, yer hurting me…!” He hissed as his knees wobbled, in the verge of bending as to escape the grip but unable as the musician held him on spot, almost pinned.

“It’s just… I… AGH! Iwanttogiveyouachance!” There, he said it. and as quickly as his words tripped out of him, he let go of the janitor and turned, mumbling through a hand that muffled his words– if there’re even words.

Wally had to pause to make an effort to process the phrase in its individual words. And even though he wrote and rewrote his sayings on his mind, it still didn’t allow him to take the weight of such sentence.

“Mr. Lawrence, I’m sorry, but–”

“It’s ‘Sammy’.” He interrupted, catching off ward the even more dumbfounded janitor. “Stop calling me ‘Mr. Lawrence’. I told you, I want to give you… a chance… You don’t have to keep the formalities.” Sammy added as he slowly tuned once again to the young man, standing on his statement as firm as he could. But seeing Wally broken on tears once again wasn’t what he expected. “Wally?”

“No… No, I can’t…!” He cried out muted, not allowing such statement to sink in him

“What? Why not? What do you mean?” He reached Wally’s arm but he shoved away, retreating until he hit the organ keys, shaking.

“This is wrong… This is wrong…! I can’t let ya, this is wrong!”

“Why are you saying that? Who says so?” He approached him, but Wally flinched as he shook his head in denial.

“Everyone… everyone says… they will talk, they will judge… they will tell Mr. Drew and then will be all for us! They will kick us out, that would be all for yer career, and I can’t let that happen!”

“Then they don’t have to know.” He finally held him, stopping his trembling head as he cooped his cheeks with both hand, gently forcing him to lock stares. “You are the best knowing what happens around and what not. No one will be able to say anything without you noticing.”

“That’s not how it works. The one they talk about always is the one who knows at last!”

“Then what about Norman? He knew and he didn’t say anything to anyone before. He knew about you and you do trust him, do you?” Sammy waited for Wally to nod at least. “Don’t you think he would alert you in case of anything?” Another jerked nod.

“It’s too much of a risk. Ya could lose everything!”

“Would I lose you?” The silence from the janitor stretched fearfully, only interrupted by his hiccupping sobs. “Would I?” Wally’s jaw clenched as his neck jerkily started to move side to side, prompting his head to shake in negative. “Then I’ll take the risk. I don’t want to see you wearing yourself for me and still acting like, like a jerk around you. You… don’t deserve that. And if this is what I should do to at least return a part of all you’ve done for me…” A pause; Sammy sighed flickering his stare and breathed deep, gathering his own courage as he locked his eyes on the janitor’s ones. “…then I want to be with you. And don’t start with all those things of ‘is wrong’ or ‘you can’t’ or ‘people’ll talk’. I’ve never gave a damn to what they say and I won’t start now. If you want to, we can keep formalities in public. But…” He released his wet cheeks as now he was looking for Wally’s hands to hold together. “…from now on, I want you to know that I’m with you, Wally. And better get that in your head ‘cos I don’t pretend to change my mind this far, got it?”

And he stood there, holding his hands as they got tighter and tighter on his grip, shaking as reflection of all the janitor’s body. Sammy studied him thoroughly, expecting any other sign from him that could replace his tears. But again, against anything expected, hiccups of a repressed cry started to leak from the young man’s throat.

And as Sammy’s unsteadiness grew, Wally let out his cry out loud, no more barriers holding it in, and bereaved wails broke through his vocal cords, all while he parted his grip on the musician’s hands and threw his arms around the man’s shoulders, clenching his fits around the back of his shirt, afraid of letting go, as if this very moment, this very man, could slip from his embrace and reality would come to mock of such a ludicrous fantasy of him. But no, he was real, he stood there, prevented him from fall back and over all that, he… accepted his feelings. He was willing to be together, to be with him.

“Hey, Wally, now what’s the problem?! I thought this would make you happy somehow? Why’re you still crying?” He asked puzzled and still quite reluctant to such unprompted contact.

“I– I do! I am! Sorry, it’s just… Sammy, I love ya so much; I’ve loved ya fer so long…! I can’t… please, tell me yer not lying, tell me this’ real! Please…!”

Love… the weight of that sole word suddenly made it feel way too much real for Sammy, whose thoughts and movements slowed as he tried to let that sink. Oh, gosh, he wasn’t just a silly infatuated boy, he meant it! How long had he been suffering this hard for him, if he even deserved such affection? That only made him feel more of an idiot than he already assumed; one thing was hear that from someone else not involved, but another entire level was to hear that from the main source. He… he really was deep down on his heels for him, and Sammy couldn’t give the chance to screw this.

“This… this is real, Wally.” He finally said quietly as his arms engulfed him too, comfortingly, reassuringly. “I’m not… I’m not lying, I’m with you now… I am for real…”

That was the last statement of the musician, allowing the silence be filled by the cries of his companion, which were slowly subsiding though he never let his grip to loosen. All the while he gently stroked his mess of a hair, careful of not tugging it too hard, and pressed his cheek against the janitor’s neck, somehow dumbfounded of himself as he never had been so gentle before, let alone touchy. But that only remained as a buzzing bug in the back of his mind, as new questions started to brim in the frontline, as what he should do to not mess this, or if he will ever be as deserving of so much affection as the young man invested in him, or what his natural fragrance would be under all those chemical smells he sported thanks to his job. Cinnamon and honey was the first thing in his mind albeit random as he really hadn’t felt such… was it too soon to smell and guess?

“Wally? Wally, my boy, where are you?” The voice of the head of the studio, so gleeful and charming as only a severe boss voice could sound, thundered from behind the door, making both of theme to go as still as statues, hoping for no intromissions in the room.

“Sorry, mister Drew, but he’s kinda bussy right now.” Norman voice intercepted the first one, to what both new lovers shared a glance full of concern.

“What do you mean? An hour has passed since work time’s over and still there’s a lot of things that left!”

“Didn’ you hear the rough day the boy had? He already did everythin’ else he had to, just give ‘im some time and I make sure he’s done with everythin’ else.”

Silence stretched but no footsteps; seeming like he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Until a sigh was heard.

“Will you make sure he’s done with all of his tasks? I don’t want him waddling around because some lost keys.”

“Don’ worry boss, I’m sure he’s already on check to do that.”

“Alright, I trust–…” He felt silent, why was that for? “Did… did Sammy leave already?” He questioned, seemingly having looked to the empty office.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s in the restroom. Y’know, too much coffee can really do effects inside if you don’t eat properly.”

Again the silence outside stretched, but inside Wally was fighting for retain his giggles in, earning a side glare from the foretold man that, curious enough, didn’t burn even half of what they used to.

“Alright, then remind Wally to go and check the toilets whenever he finishes, okay?”

The last part seemed to fade as footsteps joined to the outside noises, fading as they progressed and out of earshot finally, allowing them to finally break the silence.

“That’s a close one…” Wally released first, shaking fearful yet quite excited against the risk proximity.

“Yeah, luckily Norman was there to–…” Sammy halted in his words as realization hit on his self. “Does this… does this mean that Norman heard us all along?”

Wally stared at him, as confounded as him while he tried to process the statement, though swollen eyes didn’t allow him to focus properly.

“No, I wasn’t. I just passed by the last part of your chat tho, very movin’. Now, would you two lovebirds get outta there? I don’t think Joey will eat another ‘xcuse if you take any longer than already.”

The last part sounded faded, distant, but how quiet the projectionist’s footsteps used to be was hard to tell if he already left. Their only indicator was the silence reigning once again, one that was cut by the giggles of the janitor and a humorous roll of eyes from the musician.

“You know, now that I think so, is weird not having heard your laugh in the whole day. It really fills the spaces.” Sammy complimented as Wally earned a darker tone on his face, tenderly looking at the man. “Okay, we better keep moving before anyone else notices.”

He spun on his heels, ready to go, but a hand was trapped, laced with the other’s one. Wally’s giddy face had his stare lock on the act, cheeks still warm though no longer from the tears; and he walked to be right next to the man– his man, contemplating the height difference as his own chin barely reached his shoulder. His goofy smile, so pure and now incontrollable, raised along the rest of his features to see the music director’s eyes, so compassionate as never before, and even a lopsided smile creeped up to his face.

“Sorry, it’s just… I never thought this could really happen…!”

Sammy just watched him, watched as he never did before. And with eyes fluttering and lips puckered, he bent a little, enough to reach his cheek once again, only that this time giving a soft and tender kiss on his side, leaving the young man completely stunned.

“Well, seems like it is happening.” He humored right when he parted from his side, releasing his hand as well and walking towards the room entrance. “Now better get things done, Franks. If Joey already came once he surely will come back to check you have it all done. Understood?”

He stood still for a while, holding the doorknob but not quite opening it yet. He looked over his shoulder, eyes half lidded as he gave the janitor a last glance. And with a contained huff, a slow close of the eyes and a tender smile, he gave a solemn bow with his head to his new couple before abandoning the room.

Wally couldn’t be more flustered.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

[crystalelemental]

FE Fates Replay - Part 6

Okay...okay, I think I’m over Peri being here.  Kinda.  Not really, but enough to move on with our lives.  God I hate her...  Her levels have been better than some of my units with Aptitude!  You couldn’t even just make her a bad unit?!

Ugh, whatever, chapter 12.  The map itself is actually really cool.  The idea is that there are a ton of jars lining the field, and they’re filled with poison or medicine.  You can tell which is which when you hover over them.  Attacking a medicine jar heals you or increases stats or something, for all units within a few spaces.  Poison harms you, brings you down to half HP, or lowers stats, again, for all units with a few spaces.  The concept of the map is to navigate through the maze by breaking the medicine pots strategically to make your way forward.  I actually really like the concept of the map.  I’m just...not entirely clear why this place, the most advanced medicinal center of the world, has a bunch of jars of poison laying out.  Or the medicine, for that matter.  You’d think they’d have a storage space for that shit, instead of leaving it lying around.  Kinda strange, when you think about it.

Anyway, Ryoma is here, but you don’t have to fight him.  You can either beat him, or escape within 16 turns.  Failure to do so probably means Elise dies, since you can’t use her this chapter because of the illness.  Saizo and Kagero are the mini-bosses, in a sense.  They hover right near that nice dragon vein that shatters all the jars, and are paired up so they’re more defensive.  Frankly, they seem kinda scary.  High speed, high evasion, able to hit close or distant foes, and having an attack on them just negated if you miss too often?  Pretty brutal.  Or, well, it would’ve been, if Dragon Corrin wasn’t huge.  She basically one-shot Saizo right away, and then massacred Kagero.  It was not even fair, frankly.  They didn’t deserve that hard an ass-whupping.

Now here’s where I want to note again: I am playing Casual.  So at this point, I made a save, and did two different approaches.  One was breaking all the jars instantly and seeing how that played out, and the other was leaving them.  Leaving them lets you be a bit more precise in your movements, but I honestly found breaking them all immediately to be way more effective.  A lot of enemies get hit with the poison, and since you’re causing the break, you can set up your units out of harm’s way.  That said, this does immediately open up the path for like 10 ranged enemy units to swarm you, and most are ninjas so your defenses drop really fast.  It’s surprisingly dangerous.  I’m sure there’s a better way to handle this map, but we’re on a timer here so instead, Dragon Corrin is just going to bait all your fuckers out and take like no damage, then have everyone else run in and smash them to death.  With that, all the remains is Ryoma.  Who is also no match for Dragon Corrin’s hugeness.  I paired her up with Nyx, and she deal something outrageous like 25 damage to Ryoma in that single hit, and took like 6.  Being a dragon is kickass.  Her dialogue with Ryoma is about the same as usual, but I did have Azura land the final blow, getting her unique dialogue with Ryoma as well.  Honestly, it’s more of the “Ah, so you’ve betrayed us Azura!” stuff, and how I guess nobody from Nohr can be trusted.

Look...I get it.  Nohr is the instigator in a war here.  They are, by all accounts, the bad guys here.  But my god if I’m not tired of having every single conversation with the Hoshidans turn into then yelling about all Nohrians being scum, and how being treacherous is just in their blood, yadda yadda.  I know I shouldn’t conceptualize it this way, but my god do the Hoshidans come off as way more belligerent.  Sure, we have the inside perspective of what the Nohrians in general are like, being inside the kingdom, but like...okay, imagine in Heroes, if everyone who met Laegjarn and Laevatein just kept shouting about how they’re horrible awful people and their whole kingdom is a bunch of back-stabbing sub-humans.  That’s basically how Hoshido approaches Nohr, solely because the king is insane and evil.  I get that they’re angry, and they’re right to be so, but their approach to people legitimately trying to act with a sense of decorum and decency is still to constantly call them scum and dismiss the whole kingdom.  Seriously, fuck you guys.

After Ryoma gets fucking bodied, Elise is given the medicine and is back to full strength!  From here we are given our next assignment.  There’s another rebellion in Cheve, and we’re to put it down.  Boy Garon, you’re sure doing a great job leading, what with the constant rebellions going on.  So, off to Cheve it is, where we meet...oh god yes.  It’s Takumi again.  Oh man, I am going to kick his ass into the fucking dirt.  He yells more stuff about Nohr being traitors and shoots Elise with an arrow, securing his death.  The rebellion is all mad and shit, and Corrin gives another order to not kill anyone.  Early on, we get two new characters, Benny and Charlotte.  Benny doesn’t stand out much at all, so not much to report.  Charlotte...is the only character whose outfit might be worse than Camilla’s.  The win still goes to Camilla, because...my god, lady.  But Charlotte is a front-line warrior, who’s barely wearing clothes.  I think I’d be less pissed if her defense growth wasn’t so high.  Look, this is a series with units in heavy armor and units in cloth armor.  There’s meant to be a distinction in which stats are good.  Her having great defense is not following the damned rules!  Also I think the armor part above the cleavage pisses me off too.  Like, if you’re going for the whole seductive appearance, go all out.  That stupid little bit of armor ain’t doin’ shit anyway.  That said though, her introduction is threatening to kill everyone for being too noisy at night, so like...I can relate.  Might be another situation of “solid character, shitty costume.”  But she sucks up to Corrin really hard, so she’s kind of all about the attention from others, and is a bit of a gold-digger in general.  So we’ll see if that goes anywhere in supports.

Map itself isn’t that interesting, so once you win, Hans, of course, does his thing and starts killing everyone.  “Uh, um...the king!  Yeah, the king totally told me to do it, so you gotta follow my lead on this one!”  Camilla apparently agrees and insists that there’s nothing we can do here.  Listen...I’m pretty sure there’s a solid argument for not listening to the current commanding officer being a punishable offense.  I get the king’s decree and all, but you know how Leo and the others constantly think around the problem and look like they’re obeying but don’t actually obey?  Yeah.  This is like...the easiest time to do that.  Evacuate the townsfolk and sticking Camilla’s axe in the back of Hans’ skull, and call it a day.  The village is gone, as far as the king knows, and Hans’ death was in battle.  They don’t know the difference.  “Oh, but Iago might be spying on them.”  Bullshit.  Iago could be doing a lot of things, but he only shows up to be slightly annoying.  Besides, if he were really so vigilant, then Leo wouldn’t be able to pull of anything he’s pulled off in the game.  We can’t throw out “Iago is watching” as a convenient catch-all for everyone, except for Leo because the plot needs to make us think that he’s the clever one so no one else is allowed to think around problems.

Chapter 14, the group arrives for some more rest in Cyrkensia, which mostly seems to be about a big theater.  It’s a neutral territory, which I wasn’t aware existed in this conflict.  Leo finally joins us and is around, I guess.  Corrin attempts to confront Garon about the situation in Cheve, and he’s just like “Good job on killing all those innocents.  I hear you even seemed to enjoy the work.  That’s the kind of thing I expect of you.”  Like, buddy.  Guy.  Are you an idiot?  You know full damn well Hans was full of shit on that report, and by now you know that Corrin wasn’t going to go along with it either.  Honestly, this is the biggest problem with Garon, he’s inconsistent.  For such a merciless guy, he sure keeps giving Corrin a ton of second chances after she constantly and consistently defies him.  Almost like...everyone’s kinda full of shit?  And that Corrin can do whatever she wants because plot armor?  Weird.

Azur-uh, the totally mysterious performer on stage, gosh-golly who could it be, attempts to sing this magic song that is too lit for the king to handle, so he has a combined orgasm/heart attack and nearly bites it.  Iago, ever the clever advisor, is like “HOLY SHIT, THAT PERFORMER CAST A CURSE ON THE KING!”  I...don’t think that’s particularly likely, guy.  But no, everyone just goes along with that, as if it’s the obvious answer.  So yeah, I guess that’s what we’re doing now.  Catch the mysterious singer.  Oh, wait, the Hoshidans are here.  Better fight them first.

Keaton shows up, mostly because he has no sense of direction and kinda just bumblefucked his way here.  He seems cool.  Wolf man that collects bugs and shit.  He’s alright.  The map itself was pretty uninteresting.  Mostly it’s just a lot of flying and ranged units on very narrow paths, so it’s kinda hard to defend everyone effectively when the enemy is so much less hindered by the terrain.  Also there’s a cleric who uses the Freeze staff, and my god am I already getting tired of that one.

After the map, Garon commands you to kill all the performers in this neutral territory, because that’ll go over well on the global stage.  Sure doubt that’ll set the neutral territories in motion against you.  Corrin is mortified and does that arguing thing, and Leo gets to be the only smart one and takes her aside, and tells her that they’re going to follow orders by looking in really unlikely places so everyone can escape.  See, this is what I’m talking about!  Iago’s literally in this general area, and yet the plan is spelled out and carried out without a hitch!  Why couldn’t anyone have figured this out back in Cheve?!

Chapter 15, this is another fun map.  Corrin is still upset about all the needless killing lately, and sees Azura taking a walk as well.  Thinking about how similar their situations are, she follows, and finds Azura sinking into a lake!  Fearful that she’s drowning, Corrin chases Azura, and falls through the lake herself, into this mystery world full of weird soldiers that are apparently not able to feel any emotion at all and just seek to kill.  Gunter shows up and is apparently alive and well here, so that’s cool.  Really, there’s a lot I can recall that pisses me off about this hidden world, but that’s for a much later time when they try to explain shit.  For now, just know that I hate this place.

The map itself is neat.  The dragon vein splits your party into two copies, one in the north and one in the south.  A unit and their copy share damage and stat changes, so anything that hurts one hurts the other.  Also only the real Azura in the north can do the singing thing.  It’s a neat concept, and having only three units to do it is an interesting limitation, but...one of them is Azura, who is very weak, and her copy can’t even provide multiple turns.  And the other is Gunter, whose stats are not terrible but who comes with no preparation and the worst growths in the entire game for some reason.  At least you get a bunch of stat upgrading items if you can clear it fully.

Now...this is where things get dumb.  Azura informs you that you must jump off this cliff, and you’ll arrive at the bottomless pit that Gunter got kicked into.  Why?  Dunno, that’s just how they’re connected.  Corrin asks why they can’t just go back through the water, and Azura informs her that only Azura and Corrin are able to do that, so Gunter would get left behind.  Corrin asks the logical follow up of “Why the hell would that be the case?” but this question is ignored so that there’s more shit they can explain in the true route.  I’d call this foreshadowing, but I think foreshadowing comes with a degree of subtlety.  Azura jumps, and Corrin follows, with Gunter going last.  Oh, I forgot something.  Azura informs them that “time flows differently in this hidden world,” which is bullshit code for “we needed a way to get Corrin and Azura alone for this next scene, so Gunter not showing up immediately with them is because the flow of time is convoluted.”  So begins the true contrivance train.  Azura uses a magic crystal from the hidden world that can show you the truth of things.  She uses this to show Corrin the truth of King Garon, that he is a weird goo monster!  Literally, he’s made of goo.  Callie didn’t believe me when I called him a goo monster, but she has since acknowledged this is the only explanation for him.  What does this mean?  No idea.  Initially, I would’ve said he was killed and replaced by the thing, but Azura further explains that her performance in Cyrkensia (*gasp* It was her the whole time?!), was to restore Garon to his senses, implying that he’s still the same human, just corrupted into...whatever this is.  Somehow.  God, I hope they can explain how the fuck this happened, but I doubt they can.  Azura explains that this song was the only way to restore him, and that it failing means there’s only one option - regicide.  About time someone on this fucking team started talking any sense.

CONTRIVANCE TWO!  Corrin says no one else would go along with this, and that they can’t tell the other siblings about this because, as Azura explained earlier, if you talk about the other world, you’re cursed and get drawn back in, never to leave.  Because if you could just talk about the problem, then this entire plot, from start to fucking finish, would be resolved in the span of like 5 minutes.  We needed a contrivance to say why they can’t just do that.  But hey, you know, Awakening’s story just wasn’t that good, and we’re here to do a better job.  They remember the Hoshidan throne, and that sitting upon it would restore someone’s true memories and shit, so their new plan is to gain Garon’s trust and have him sit atop that throne and be revealed as a good monster.  So let’s just run with that.

Chapter 16, Xander finally joins us!  He has a nice introduction with Corrin and Azura in particular, mentioning that when Azura came to Nohr, it was with Garon’s second wife, Arete.  Now...I’m confused.  So, diving into things from my last playthrough, Mikoto and Arete are siblings, from Valla.  Arete had Azura before marrying Garon, so I’m assuming that Garon must’ve already had his four kids by the time she shows up, since none of the Nohrian siblings are apparently related.  But Xander only mentions Camilla and “later, Leo” in his explanation of the other siblings liking her despite the masses not liking her.  So...when were the kids born?  Because in addition to this, apparently Elise has no memories of her father ever being a good person, which I believe happened shortly after Arete, who must’ve come in after Leo was born but maybe not before Elise?  It’s so fucking confusing.

Anyway, we’re on the direct war-path with Hoshido.  We’re told to go by sea, since they’d never expect a sea-based attack!  Garon makes some comment about outsmarting them at every turn, and it’s like...guy, listen.  I know you think this is super clever, but unless the Hoshidans are full-on dumbasses, they thought about the fact that the navy can get to them too.  Iago also attempts to be a shit, by asking where Corrin and Azura went last night.  Corrin, in the span of like two seconds, seems to have learned how to lie really well, and gives the story that they went out for a stroll, encountered some unknown soldiers, and killed them all.  She even parrots Garon’s thing about rebellion and seeds and all that.  Our girl is learning...

No sooner do you leave port than you are besieged by pirates.  Yes, pirates have snuck aboard, and are taking all the gold you set off with!  ...a few questions.  (1) Why is this gold not in your pockets?  (2) When you win, why is some of the money gone forever?  You’re at sea, and there are no pirate vessels nearby.  They all snuck aboard ahead of time, and have no exit point.  So where the hell did the money go?  This mechanic makes no sense.  I will admit though, I do like the idea of balancing keeping your characters alive, and saving as much money as you can in this kind of route where funds are limited.  It’s a cool idea, it just doesn’t make sense.  You’ll also note that the goal is “beat the boss,” but the boss isn’t present.  Part of your goal is to identify which Nohrian soldier is in disguise, and out them as the leader.  Again, really cool idea, for a fairly nonsense map.

There isn’t a ton going on with the map outside of this, but you unmake the boss, Shura, and probably kick his ass really hard now that you have Xander.  Shura talks a lot, but the only thing of value he says is that he’s the one who had kidnapped Azura as a baby, under orders from Yukimura, the tactician for Hoshido.  Shura explains that he doesn’t really have allegiance to either nation, but wants to avenge the death of his clan.  You are given the option to kill him or spare his life.  I sincerely thought about killing him, just to know what happens, but I did let him live.  Corrin thinks he deserves a break after all the shit that’s happened to him, so that’s fair I guess.  With this, we press on toward Hoshido.

UGH.  God, I knew the plot would take a downturn, and here we are.  EVERYTHING about that hidden world, Valla, is just stupid beyond words.  I hate its existence.  Even just smaller things at this point bother me.  There’s no reason Leo has to be the only one with an ounce of sense.  Hell, he even states that all the siblings have become masters of seeming to obey while making judgment calls for the greater good, yet no one else is allowed to demonstrate this ability because then Leo loses his only characteristic so far, being clever.  Honestly, the characters have been doing okay, but the plot’s holding them back.  So next time, instead of plot, I’m going to be doing the supports.  All of them.  We gotta figure out who’s getting paired up with who, after all.  So stay tuned for me going insane, because now I have to deal with Peri talking.  God...if you’re listening...please...look down upon the development team for Three Houses.  If they’re making another fucking character like Peri, where she’s just infantile and murder-happy, give them a sign that they need to knock that shit off.

[lillaxtrigger]

Young Hope: Chapter 30

The afternoon sun glistens through the clear blue sky and shines down upon a calming suburban neighborhood,  one of its rays piercing through the small crack of a window that leads straight into a dimly lit room. Within this very room does the purple merc lay bed ridden with half of his body broken, medical cast layering his three remaining limbs; the boy doing little but stare upon the glow of his television from across the room. With nothing to do but simply wait for his injuries to heal, a bored sigh escapes from Roy’s lunge as he glares up and away from the television; a familiar voice soon echoing in his head with: “What’s wrong Roy, I thought you’d be rather ecstatic on taking this little R&R. I’d know I would it after the beating you took.” “Well, Hera. Some people probably don’t wanna be left stuck in their bed for a week straight only to get up to take a piss. Binged about ever show on my list while I’m stuck here and I’m getting antsy.” “At least it’s only been a week now. You’re doctor said that you only have another to go before all your bones heal. I’d take my time to enjoy this respite if I were you.” “But I’m not you, am I. Just like how I wasn’t you when I went and fought your possessed granddaughter on your behalf. And look how that shit turned out.” “And I remain grateful for your help, but what do you want me to do about it?” “I don’t know. Maybe use that bit of goddess energy you got flowing in my body and fix it. Or does that how your almighty godly powers operate?” “No, but I believe she might have some news on how you’re doing.” “Who are you...Oh right, her.”

Right after that very moment does the mercs bedroom door quietly creak open, the light from the other side leaking through the darkened room along with the site of a blue haired head poking out the crack. “Roy...you’re not asleep are you?” this head whisper. “I’m fine Maurecia. You can come in.” Upon the purple boys words does the blue haired woman fully open the door; her body overshadowing the flooding light as she proceeds to the merc’s bedside. “What’s up?” “So I just got the call from the doctor. We can finally remove the casts on your right arm and left leg.” “Ah finally. About damn time.” Hearing the blue woman claim this, the merc rises from the comfort of his bed and stamps his left leg right onto his bedroom floor; the cast that swathed the limb shattering into pieces and exposing his bare leg to the open air. After the leg does Roy thrust his only arm down towards the floor, reducing the cast that envelopes it to bits and freeing his arm from its binds; flexing his fingers as soon as the limb is free. “Ahh. Feels good to finally air them out. Starting to think my skin was gonna mold under them.” “Before you try anything stupid. The doc said that it’ll take another week some of your ribs and your other leg to fully heal.” “Come on, Maurecia. It’s been a week already. I’m sick of being cramped up in my room and just wanna punch someone’s privates already.”

“Like hell you are! Not while half of your skeletal structure has yet to heal!” the woman reinforces with a threatening demeanor. Her sudden aggravation causes the merc to stumble back a little while state that: “Alright, fine. Jesus...” Calming down from her little outburst, a small sigh escapes from the woman’s mouth; soon to apologize to the boy with: “I’m sorry, Roy. Me being so forceful and angry like this. Ever since what happened with Tore. It made me realize that you and Mally might be all that I have left.” “Uh, give your son a bit more credit then that, Maurecia. You know the countless times he and I’ve been stabbed, shot, beaten, bruised, burned, and blown up; and yet we always turn up fine and have ourselves some ice cream by the end of the day.” Hearing the merc claim such, the blue haired woman can’t help but lock her eyes upon the boys left side; Roy glancing in that direction himself to find her staring at where his left arm once was. Grasping the spot his arm once stood, he quickly corrects himself with: “I mean…for the most part.” “But you said yourself that you couldn’t sense him anywhere in the city when you came to, and its been like that for a week now.” “Pfft, so what if he’s outta my range, that don’t count him as dead yet. You and I both know the raw reality that Mally and the both of us have survived way worse.” “I know...but that’s what scares me.” The merc certain glare deflates when hearing the woman claim such, his purple eyes shifting from determined to concerned.

Before Roy could press her for anymore, both of them soon hear the sound of rushing footsteps nearing; soon witnessing the orange skater burst through the door with phone in hand. “He’s alive! He’s alive!” Mally screams out. Her eyes widening by this sudden news, the skaters mother sucks in a sharp gasp as her hands clamor; asking her daughter: “Tore!? How do you know that!?” “He sent me a voicemail last night while I was in the shower. Can’t believe I didn’t notice until now.” In that moment does the mom notices Roy giving her a smug ass grin, the mom turning her attention back to her daughter and requesting that she: “Well, what are you waiting for? Play what it says.” “Alright. But, I played it when I first noticed it was there, and some of things he says are...strange.” “You mean more then our usual bull or what?” Roy adds. “Just listen.” Tapping her finger upon the voicemail that her blue brother had left them all, all three of them listen as Tore voice rings out from the speakers with:

“Hey, Mal. Sorry I missed. Just wanted to let you and everyone know that I’m alright. The explosion was a little shaky, but I’m fine for the most part. I tried calling Roy to start, but I couldn’t get any sort of answer. Figured that his phone must’ve been smashed up during the scuffle. Guess you should’ve spared some cash for the warranty eh Roy, doesn’t seem like much of a corporate scam now, does it?” Hearing her sons justified snicker ring out from her daughters phone is more than enough to draw out tears from the mothers eyes; her muscles relaxing as she lets loose a relieved breath while the message continues to play.

“You guys are probably wonder where I’ve been for the past week now. Well I’ve been kinda traveling somewhere with a guy who calls himself Mall. He’s that one guy with wings like mine and Roy’s who attacked us while Kingsley and Cayenne we taking Renee home; I told you about that, right? Apparently, the reason we can do all those things is cause we’ve awakened to be what he call’s “Kybr”. Don’t know what that mean’s, but that’s what he calls himself and us. I’ve always wonder what else we can do with these powers, and now I can get some pointers on how they work instead of just having to wing it. Beats having to wait for dad to come home for once in our lives.” This small complaint from her son causes the blue haired woman’s gaze to lower towards the bedroom floor; her relieved eyes shifting to remorse.

“I don’t think I’ll be back in town for couple more weeks or so. Mom and all my friends must be worried sick already. Can you apologize to them all for me and tell them thanks for helping us out with Circe.” After requesting this do all of them hear a second voice sound off in the background of the call; the voice proving to muddled to make out any sort of words. “Oh uh, I gotta go. See you guys soon.” Its then that the tone of the phone sounds off, a single click ending the voicemail.

“So, what do you guys think he meant by all that?” Roy then questions. “I’m more worried about the guy he’s with. The fact that he convinced my boy to leave town without any kind of warning. I don’t like it.” the mother responds with. “And what was he said that Roy and he were; Kybr? What does that even mean?” “You try calling back?” the purple merc wonders. “Of course I did, but I couldn’t reach him. Must’ve turned his phone off.” Mally explains. “Is there anything about the call that could tell us where he’s heading?” the mom asks. “Not sure. Couldn’t really hear anything else outside of that man’s mumbling. But I think going off of what he called himself might give us a good clue where to start.” “And where do you think we can find out what these “Kybr” are? Doubt the internet has anything on it.” the merc questions. “No, but I think I might know somebody who might. Imma go head out.” “Hang on a sec, Imma go with.” the purple merc claims as he starts to approach the door. Before he could go any further, he feels somebody grasp his shoulder and glances back to see it be the blue haired mother; who stares upon him with a rather upset glare. “What did I just get done telling you?” Pulling him away from the door, the mom repeats to Roy how: “You still have a broken leg, slight skull cracks, a few ribs broken and a fractured torso. You’re not going anywhere out of this house until you’re fully healed. Do I make myself clear?” “Alright, fine. Christ. Wouldn’t be stuck in here if our white mage hadn’t decided to run off.”

Down in the glowing depths of a suburban basement, an olive hand reaches out towards a lone bookcase filled with strange tomes; the soft finger gliding its tip across the myriad of titled spines and unsettling the small collection of dust. “Ah. There we are.” The olive palm soon grasps one of these spines and slides out the book it belongs to from the shelves; those hands carrying the book over and sitting it right upon the table that Mally sits at. Presented with the front cover of the tome, the skater reads the title out as: “The bestiary of mythical creatures and beings from magical history.” Breaking her site away from the cover, Mally gazes to her graceful host and asks: “You sure that this might have some answers Serena?” “I’ll be honest, I’ve never really heard of these so called “Kybr” myself before; but that might be cause I’ve mainly dabble in potion brewing. I’ve never really took a good look at the other books in my collection. Thankfully I decided to keep the rest of them that my mom’s side of the family had collected over the years.” “Um, thanks a bunch for helping me out with this little search. I really didn’t know who else to turn to.” “Don’t sweat it, Mal. Just tell me where to start first.”

“Mmm...Maybe “C’s” might be best to start off with.” Hearing her guest suggest this, the potion witch cracks the bestiary wide open and flips through its contents until coming to the start of the “C” section; soon following up with: “And how might you spell “Kybr” for me?” “Not too sure. Not like there’s a point of reference. Try the “I’s”. “Right, Ci Ci Ci Ci’s” Serena repeats while flipping through a couple more pages. Stopping right at the suggested section, the witch reads out the following words to her guest: “Hmm...Ciguapa, Cihuateteo, Cikavac, Cinnamon bird, Cipactli, Cirein croin...Can’t really seem to find anything here.” “Try the “Y”. After flipping through a couple more pages, the potion brewer reads out the listed creatures to her with: “Cyclops, Cyhyraeth, Cynocephalus; still nothing.”

“Mmph. Maybe we’ll have better luck in the “K’s” the skater then suggests. “Right.” From this suggestion does Mally’s host flip through the tome’s pages until stopping right at the “Ki’s”, where Serena reads the beasts listed with: “Kijimunaa, Kijo, Kikimora, Killmoulis, Kinnara, Kin-u, Kirin, kishi, kitsune, Kiyohime...nope.” “Guess it’s on to the “Y’s” and hope for the best.” Turning a few more pages, the witch stop right at the very end of the “K” section, soon reading out the list to her guest with: “Kye-ryong, Kyourinrin, Kyubi-no-kitsune, kyu...kyuketsuki?...Still no Kybr anywhere.”

Slamming her face down against the wood of the table, the orange girl lets out a disappointed sigh; Serena shutting the bestiary and apologizing to her with: “Sorry for wasting your time. Wish this wasn’t the only bestiary in my collection. As the witch picks the book off the table and head back towards the shelf, the gears in Mally’s head begin to turn; the small spark that comes from them jolting her head back up and urging her host to: “Wait a sec.” Moments before Serena could slide the tome back where she pulled it out from, she turns back to her guest and asks: “You thought of something.” “Maybe we’ve been going about this all wrong. Kybr isn’t that well known of a word, so how about we try looking up Angels instead.” “You think that might hold any water?” the witch wonders as she ventures back to the table with book in hand. “Not too sure. But its worth a shot.”

Cracking open the tome once more, the witch flips only a few pages past the table contents to search for where “Angels” would be, but what she fails to suspect is what awaits them at where the subject would be; both of them gasping in utter astonishment when coming to the part of the bestiary. “What!?” the witch exclaims. “The hell?” the skater adds. Both of them gaze down to the bestiary to find that the page that would contain the subject of “Angel’s” has been ripped out from the very spine; nervous sweat running down the witch’s face as she trembles from the site. “So, how old is this book?” the skater calmly asks the frantic witch. “It’s thousands and thousands of years old! This entire collection has been cared for by my family for generations! Each book passed down from ancestor to descendant! How could anybody have torn a page out from them!” Upon this discovery does the witch then zip straight back to her bookshelf filled with magical tomes; pulling out volume after volume and flipping through their pages in a distressed panic. “Um...Okay...” the skater utters as she stands out from her seat. Slowly waltzing away to the exit, Mally turns back towards her panicking host and adds: “Um, thanks for the help...” Despite the witch proving to busy rapidly looking through her collection to even respond to her; Mally simply opting to make her leave.

Wandering through the quaint suburban neighborhood, the young skater girl continues to ponder on how to go about continuing through her research; thinking on what exactly her brother had called himself and how to figure out where he may be going. From the voicemail, he didn’t exactly elude to where he could be; but a couple of interesting notes could be made when listening to the background. A couple of birds could be heard chirping as he was talking; that and the sound of rustling leaves echoing out. All that at least gives the hint that he’s in a forest somewhere. And then there was that other person that he was talking to. It was kinda muffled, but it was definitely a masculine tone. On all that, what could convince him not to leave a voicemail for several days; figured the first thing anybody would do after surviving a point blank explosion with almost no injury was to tell everyone that it was all good. Just what is this Mall guy convincing Tore of anyway?

Its in wondering of all this do her eyes catch site of the local library standing at the very end of the street, the site of the small library causing an idea to begin forming in her head. Just as the thought fully forms to her, a wayward, but familiar voice sounds off from right behind her; asking the young girl if: “You think a local suburban ass library like that’s gonna tell us anything?” The unexpected tone makes the young lady jump back as she takes out her hockey stick; brandishing her weapon with a fierce and ready gaze. This determined glare quickly deflates when she finds the voice behind her to belong to none other than her purple brother; the merc hovering inches from the ground with his black wings unfurled behind his back. “Relax sis. Just me here.” he assures, sliding the tip of her weapon aside with a single finger. “Roy?...What the hell are you doing here?” “Think that should be obvious. I’m here to help in figuring out where our blue dumbass of a brother wound up being dragged to.” “Does mom even know you’re here?” “Mally, come on. Let’s be real. How long have we known eachother?” “...You snuck out.” “Of course I did. The hell do you take me for, a saint?”

After roaring out a frustrated groan, the young lass takes in a calming breath before requesting that: “Fine, whatever. Think you can fly me over to Townsvilles grand library while you’re here?” “Hells yeah.” he complies as he grasps Mallys overalls. Taking a tight hold of the skaters garbs, the purple merc casually tosses his little sister up in the air with but his only arm; leaning down towards the ground to give her a place to land. As soon as Mally lands right upon her brother, both of them could hear a tiny crack coming from his backside; a small hiss escaping from between the merc’s teeth. “You gonna be okay? I can just skate there if you want.” the girl offer. “Nah, it’s alright. I’m good.” Upon claiming this to his sister, the black angel takes off from the suburban neighborhood and soars through the cloudless blue sky; both of the gliding out towards the towering city ahead.

Soon enough could the duo be seen flying through the open city skyline; the girl riding upon the black angel’s backside hearing her phone get a notification to see what it may be, left unsurprising to see it from her mother. Pulling up her messages, she finds that her mom had left asking: “Is Roy with you.” And in turn does the daughter respond with: “Yep.”

“Why am I not surprised? Tell him to get his purple butt back here ASAP.”

“Mom, if he didn’t listen to you when you said that, what makes you think it’ll be any different when I say it?”

This question garters almost no response from the young girls mother, Mally breaking the moment by offering: “Since he’s here with me, Why don’t I watch him for the time being? He could be a big help in my research trip.”

“Alright. Just make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard. His bones still have to heal.”

“Mom, its the library. What kind of trouble could we get-”

Before Mally could finish typing this out to her mother, she deletes the message before she could send it. Best not to tempt fate with that kind of crap anyway.

Crossing through a pair of giant twin doors, both the merc and the skater behold the vast and towering inside of the majestic Townsville library; shelves of countless books as far as either of their eyes could behold, with the glass dome above letting the sun shine down its soft glow. “So, what’s getting ya to think that this library might have something in here that the internet doesn’t?” the purple angel can’t help but question. “Cause these giant libraries always got a couple of books lost in the shuffle of countless stacks and hardbacks, just nestled away somewhere within these shelves waiting to be uncovered. The could be one book in here that could give us the clues we need.” “And how long you suppose that could take us?” “Don’t know. Might burn away the rest of the day before we could even come close to finding anything.” “Whelp. Can’t really do anything else with my skeletal structure on the brink of being reduced to pieces. Might as well just roll up the sleeve and get digging.” “That’s the spirit.” The merc then ascends up towards the top of the library to begin his search for any leads; all while Mally deciding to start her end of the search upon the very bottom.

About half an hour in, the orange skater surrounds herself with a myriad of open books and tomes; each one of them pertaining to the biblical and mythical history of angels throughout the ages. In her little read through these texts, her focused gaze starts to morph into a disappointed glare the further she reads through; soon noticing a shadow that glides right over her figure. Breaking away from the tome’s words, Mally’s eyes drift upwards to find her brothers winged figure passing right under the glass dome above them; his shadow sliding across the bottom floor of the library.

After she watches her brother reach the other side of the top floor, Mally casts her gaze down towards her lap; reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone and tapping over to her messages. Tapping upon Kingsley’s name, Mally decides to check in by texting to him; the conversation going like: “So, how’s Chloe been doing ever since she broke out of being possessed?”

“She hasn’t been taking it well. Still hasn’t bothered coming out of her room other than to use the restroom.”

“Has she at least spoken to any of you at all since then?”

“Occasionally, but not about what happened? Figured it would be in poor taste to bring it up so soon.”

“Has she talked to anyone else?”

“She hasn’t texted her friends as far as any of us know. It’s starting to worry us.”

“I mean losing control of your body like that has to be really fuck you up mentally. Wonder if Chloe was aware of what Circe was making her do the entire time.”

“She said that she was. She saw almost everything that happened; even when she couldn’t hear anything. Can’t really imagine what she must be going through. She even demanded us to keep the Amazon crystal as far from her as possible.”

“Where exactly did you stash the stone then?”

“We got it stowed away in a vault somewhere. Circe shouldn’t be making any sort of moves anytime soon. I know you’ve been worried sick about Chloe since all this had happened.”

“Of course I’m worried. She’s my friend, isn’t she?”

“I doubt that’s the only reason.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I know how you feel about my sister.”

As soon as she reads this little response, the skater fumbles her phone down to the floor as her face turns beat read; quickly snatching her device back and continuing the conversation with:

“What the hell do you mean by that!?”

“Mally, I’m not as oblivious to these kinds of things as you might think. How long do you plan on drawing this out for?”

“With everything that has been happening lately, I haven’t found a good chance to go for it. And besides, she’s dating Melvin now; end of story.”

“You know that it isn’t healthy to stagnate this. Either tell her how you really feel or move on.”

The last remark sinks right into the very depths of the skaters mind, knowing that what Kingsley advises is something that must be done sooner or later.

Upon this very thought, Mally notices a shadow suddenly spreading across the table before her, the shade making the young lass jumping of her seat and fall onto the hardwood floor. As the people around her shoosh her disruptive behavior, the skater pulls herself off the floor to discover her brother hovering right beside her. “Hey uh, got more books for ya.” he whispers to his sister. “I’d wish you’d stop sneaking up on me like that. Like seriously, what’s wrong with being in front of somebody to grab their attention?”

With his gaze locked to the pile of open books spread across Mally’s table, Roy sets the freshly gathered set of tomes aside and states how he: “Guessing that you haven’t had any luck in finding a lead.” From her brothers words, the lass sits herself back down onto the seat while letting out a disappointed sigh; the merc hovering to her side and further stating how: “eesh. Really hate to be in your shoes right now. Reading all these books on your own just for the slim chance of finding what as well be a made up word.” “The hell do you mean by my shoes? You’re helping me trudge through all these books too, ya know.” “Come on, Mal. Sitting down and read isn’t exactly my ideal situation on being productive.” Roy claims, hearing another set of shushes from nearby. “It ain’t mine either, Roy, but we gotta work with what we have; and right now we need to read up on anything that these books can give us.” “Can’t I just go and look for more books?” “No, dammit. Now sit your freshly healed pelvic bone down in that seat and get reading.” With someone nearing them as they closely shush the pair, Roy puts pushes the shusher aside; then hovering over towards the chair on the other side and complying with: “Fine, jeez.” As soon as the merc sits his ass down on the hardwood chair, he swipes one of the books that he had gather and cracks it wide open; staring at the text for a brief moment before swiftly falling asleep. “Good.”

About another hour of toiling through the countless pages passes for the two of them; the afternoon sun beginning to set towards the horizon behind them. With her end of the search going nowhere, Mally shuts the book she has in her hand and sets it aside; reaching out for a fresh new tome to search through. When feeling nothing but the tables hard smooth surface, the young girl looks over to find both of them have exhausted the pile of books that Roy had brought over; a small groan escaping from her lips upon the site. Drifting her eyes over to her brother on the other side, she finds him entranced in a neigh peaceful slumber, a site which she decides to leave untouched as she gets off her seat to venture back through the shelves of the library. He seriously needs the rest anyway.

In her search for more research material, the skater opts to climb to the very top of the grand library, where she comes to behold in awe dozens upon dozens of towering bookcases that rival the height of several stacked suburban homes. Holy hell, these shelves are massive. How is anybody meant to reach the top of them just to look through? Scaling up to the top would be one option, but that’d be one that could get anyone’s sorry ass booted out in record time. Nah, they had to have set something up to help people look through them all; like a ladder or lift. But where to find one around here. Her eyes wonder to the other surrounding shelves for any way to reach up to their peaks, venturing to the very end to find a lone rolling ladder attached to the line of curving bookcases.

After the last guy calmly descend down the wooden ladder, Mally zips right past him and starts racing up towards the very top; stopping right when her head reaches inches from the library’s ceiling. Taking a peek down below, the young lass could see almost everyone waltzing along through the grand library’s shelves and cases; even seeing her purple brother continuing to snooze away. From the top of the ladder, the skater kicks off the wall right beside her to take off towards the other side; the library goers breaking from their books to witness the young girl surf along the faces of the shelves. When finding herself closing in towards the other side, Mally reaches her arm out to the opposite side and clasps her fingers onto the wood of the nearest shelf; attempting to slow her approach before she could crash over to the other side. Despite her fingertips burning from the polished woods friction, her breaking grasp proves enough to slow the ladder down; her rolling rush reducing to a steady crawl and stopping mere moments before she could collide with the wall.

When coming to a complete stop before the wall, Mally flails her hand about as she blows on her friction burned fingers; shaking the pain away and gliding her index finger up towards the spines of the books before her. Sliding her fingers across the countless hardback spines, the skater notices one of the books from the collection tucked all the way to the back of the shelf. Curious of what tome could be hiding between this discovered nook, the young girl reaches her arm between the books and into the dark recesses of the shelf; surprised to feel the back of the shelf being deeper than she thought. Eventually does she manage to feel something stuck in the very back of the shelf, clasping what her fingers have felt to attempt to pull it out; caught off guard when feeling something grabs hold of her arm instead. Before she could attempt and pull her limb out from the bookcases grasp, the shelf that holds her arm suddenly twirls inward and flings the young girl out to the other side; effectively vanishing without a single trace. With almost nobody having noticed her bizarre disappearance, someone from the bottom of the bookcase casually rolls the ladder away from where Mally had disappeared.

Along the other side of the twirling bookcase, the skater’s eyes see little as she feels herself descending down a pitch black shaft; greeted with nothing but dust and cobwebs during her unexpected drop, most of which she spits out of her mouth. Moments of the young girl plummeting deeper down into the darkness pass before her little fall comes to an unexpected end; feeling the shaft curve out as she witnesses a hatch at the end crack open. Flung straight through this hole, Mally finally tumbles right onto solid ground; countless years of dust wafting through the air as soon as she hits the stone tile. Hearing the hatch behind her close back up, the young girl pulls herself off the dust ridden tile to find herself surrounded by yet more shadowy darkness; not even a single hint of light anywhere for what seemed like miles on end. Reaching right into the depths of her overall’s pocket, the skater swiftly pulls out her phone and unlocks the screen; the light of the device already piercing through the darkness as she navigates through the menu and to the flashlight tool. As soon as she presses the switch to turn the built in flashlight on, the phones front lets out a gleaming light that permeates through the pitch black void before her; the glow letting her discover what looked to be stone shelves filled with dusty ancient tomes. Aiming her phones light to the rest of her surroundings, the young lass finds dozens of other stone bookcases filled with even more books; the dozens of insects that crawl along their spines scurrying from the sudden luminescence. Curious of how where exactly she had dropped down to, Mally braves through the stretching dark up ahead; a deathly musk wafting through the air as she proceeds.

Moments of continuing through the abyss pass as she waves her light around for any sort of changes in scenery; eventually discovering a piece of railing set between a couple of shelves ahead. Gauging a closer look out beyond the railing, Mally’s flashlight fails to reach past the waiting void beyond; closing in towards the rail as much as she could in hopes of finding anything else. While taking a closer look to the abyss in front of her, the skater suddenly feels the floor underneath her foot start to give way; quickly backing away and pointing her light to stone that she had stand on and finds one of the tiles she had stepped onto. Expecting the pressure plate to have sprung a trap, Mally readies herself up and prepares for anything that could appear out from the void around her; tensing up when witnessing a soft sky blue light appear from the darkness beyond the railing. Soon enough is this lone light joined by countless other’s of its kind, all of them washing away the shadows that make up this mysterious underground dwelling. Returning to the very end of the railing, Mally gazes out to the freshly illuminated site before her to discover beneath her dozens of floors filled with bookcases much like the ones surround her. A vast collection of countless volumes all dwelling underneath Townsville’s own library. A truly amazing discovery to be sure. Sheer size of this collection nearly rivals the one that hangs above. But what kind of books make up this giant underground library is another question.

Wishing to answer this, the young girl grabs a book from one of the shelves closest to her and takes a little look at the title on the cover; the front of the hardback claiming it to be: “Several unique uses for everyday spells.” Pulling out another tome from the shelf on the other side, she discovers the hardback to hold the title of: “Magical dishes that hold temporary bodily improvement.” Reaching out for one more of these tomes, Mally pulls another out from the previous shelf to read the title etched onto its cover: “How to keep your abode pixie free with just simple household items.” Seems like a good chunk of this hidden library’s contents seems to deal with mostly supernatural subjects and phenomenon; a rather unusual place to compile such a collection. Still, uncovering an archive of supernatural material such as this beats having to painstakingly flip through pages upon pages of crap that’s already posted on the internet; willing to bet none of this stuff’s even been discovered by anyone in countless centuries. As much fun as it would to read up on all the weird shit that these records have in store, we gotta stick to priorities; maybe flipping through the pages of these tomes could provide some feasible scraps of info on what Tore claimed he was. But before any of those questions can be answers, there’s still one big one that’s on the table; where the hell does a place like this have a directory?

Taking another look beyond the railing, the young lass aims her gaze down towards the very bottom floor and finds something that grabs her attention that awaits below; a rather massive table with odd markings etched upon its surface which almost resembles a sort of map from where she stands. Wanting a closer look of the tables surface, the orange girl vaults right over the stone safety railing and drops down through the countless floors that make up the underground library; feeling some of the cobwebs that remained smack themselves along her body. Once beginning to close in towards the very bottom floor, the skater swiftly pulls out her trusty hockey stick and jams the bent end right between the stone guard behind her; grasping the handle of her weapon tightly as she suddenly stops her plummeting descent. Pulling herself back up on the floors railing, the orange lass takes another peek down towards the table place at the bottom floor; able to make out the details much more clearly from where she stands. She finds each of the floors of this underground archive to each pertain to a different subject, each of their subjects labeled beside the overall design of the carved map. Whipping out her phone once again, Mally thinks it best to take a picture of the entire table just to be safe; zooming closer into the photo she had just taken and sliding it up through the many labels and their floors. Let’s see here...Astrological events, doomsday cults, naturalist spells, fiction, necromancy, potion recipes, demonic sing a longs, dictionaries, ancient gods and deities, haunting harmonics…History…That could be a good place to start...But where are they stashed? Glancing to the corresponding floor, Mally’s determined smile deflates when finding the history section to be almost back at the very top of the library; the crushing fact being all the more apparent as she glances up to the countless floors that she had dropped down from. A small groan escapes from her lips as she treks over towards the stairwell; dreading the thousands of steps she has to climb to get back up. Really starting to miss the grapple yo here.

Back above this ancient hidden library, the skaters purple brother could still be seen sleeping on the very table that she had left him at; accompanied by piles of stacked books that surround his slumbering head. Soon enough does a curious librarian start to approach the slumbering merc, softly poking the purple boys body from his head, to his torso; each poke causing him to slide a little further off towards the edge of the table. Despite giving the peacefully slumbering young man plenty of taps, none of them prove disturbing enough to get the merc to move himself and awaken from his sleep. They do prove just enough to tilt the purple merc over the edge of the table and make him drop to the hardwood floor; the slam of the drop causing the stack of books left on the side to all spill right on top of the boy’s body. With almost no one but the librarian having witnessed all this, he slowly kneels down and aims his ear down towards the pile of books that had buried the young boy; eventually hearing the merc’s slumbering snoozes past the piles of hardback. When hearing the young man was still breathing under all those tomes, the librarian simply slinks away from the mound of books and continues down the library; acting causally so not to raise any suspicion on his part.

Back down the underground archive of mystical texts below, Mally’s harrowing climb up the dozens upon dozens of steps fairs to be as tedious and monotonous as she had predicted, the constant dull walking starting to wear on the young girl. Not through any physical means by any stretch, but rather more in a mental sense. Just when the seemingly endless steps start to bore her to near literal tears, the orange girl breaks out from her bored trance as she feels one of the steps under her feet softly give; Mally instantly glancing down to discover herself having just stepped on another pressure plate. In that moment does she hears a sharp clink from above and swiftly aims her site up; an alarming jolt courses through her body when witnessing a set of barbed spikes beginning to descend down from the roof of the staircase. The mere site of these blood stained spikes urges her to race up the rest of the steps as fast as her legs could move; scuttling up the stairs by her hand and feet as she swiftly climbs upwards. With the end of the staircase in her sites, Mally glances back towards the rusted blood spikes above her to find them starting closing in; making one incredible lunge out towards the end of the stairs moments before the trap above her drops. Leaping over the last set of steps, Mally slides right across the aged stone tile just before the set of spikes over the stairs slam straight down; meager moments before her body could be skewered.

Taking the moment of calm to breathe, the young lass turns back towards the stairs she had frantically just climbed up and finds the rain of spikes that had nearly crushed her start to lift themselves off the stone step; the rusted metal trap retreating back into the shadows it once fell down from. Fantastic, death traps. Just what any sort of hidden underground study establishment needs. Only need a couple ghouls and gargoyles hovering around and we got ourselves a full on mystic crypt down here.

Slipping her phone out from her pocket once more, she unlocks the screen to review the picture of the map that she had taken; counting up the number of staircases that she had taken in her dull ascent up towards the near top. 26, 27, 28...Seems that there’s only a few more floors to go at this point, just need to watch where the feet go while continuing up and things might turn out okay.

Moving right onto the neighboring set of ascending stairs, the young lass keeps her eyes locked to her feet as she cautiously continues forth; tiptoeing over any sort of awkward step that seems suspicious to her. Can’t be so reckless at this point anymore; even something as minuscule as an offset shadow could very well could lead to a bloody end by the hands of an ancient trap some jackass from long ago set up in their spare time. Practically anything could pop out from the darkness and put an end to this pro rollerblader in the makings short life.

Once having reached the top of the staircase, Mally pulls out her mobile device once more to take another peak at the map; again counting over the number of floors that she had past in her numbing climb up. Let’s see here, 28, 29...30! This is it! Historical records, right here! A clue for what Tore called himself should be right on this very floor. Best start with the A’s, C’s and K’s here.

Proceeding onward through the floor of archived supernatural history, the careful young girl continues to slink her way deeper into the section; her eyes constantly zipping all over from the shelves that surround her all the way down to the tiles beneath her feet for any of them to hold a lethal trap waiting to be triggered. While her site drifts over to the bookcases that stand by her side, Mally could tell of what alphabetical order she stands in by the titles etched in their spines. Looks like all the titles here start with “P” and go up from there. If that’s the case, then the “K’s” shouldn’t be that far off. But the titles of these tomes isn’t the only thing that she notices about their spines, as she notes the pieces of red that splatters across the books; some of their stains stretching down to the bottom of the shelves. Okay, we got blood here. But where could have the bodies have wound up? With little signs of any sort of bodies surrounding her, the orange lass’ eyes trail up towards the roof above her; the girl’s pupils shrinking when discovering the site of numerous molding corpse pierced through the pikes that hang over her. Oh...well, guess that explains the smell...God, some of them don’t look to be older than teenagers. Wonder how many people wound up coming down here by accident? All to be never heard from again. Pretty sad when you think about it.

Breaking her eyes away from the collection of bodies stuck above her head, Mally takes another several careful paces through the historical section as she keeps her eyes onto the floor she walks through; all the while peeking at the titles written on the book spines beside her. N, M, L...K! Right here, This is where the “K’s” should be. Now just to slide through the titles to try and find...What!? Standing before the collection of tomes is she alarmed to notice a couple of empty spaces left between the books; the few books in the “K’s” historical section left missing from these archives. Fucking kidding here!? Who the hell went up and stole from a library as old and as hidden as this!? The rest of the shelves here so far seemed to be full from side to side with tomes and books; what the hell makes these any different!? Reaching out to one of the books that neighbors one of the empty spaces, the young girl finds their titles to start with the letters of “Ky”; an ironic hint of what sort of name she seeks. Ky-br...Seems like somebody or something doesn’t want anyone to dig too deep into this whole matter, but why? What makes the very word something so special to conceal from any prying eyes? Well whatever the case, this little search may not be as much of a dead end as they might have wanted it to be. Angels are still a pretty widely known mythical creature. Maybe this massive archive could have something that connects the two of them.

With this in mind, Mally puts the books she had grabbed back on the shelf and readies to continue towards the very alphabetical start of this history section to further investigate; a hint of dread creeping through her when soon feeling something press against her foot. Slowly glancing down, the orange girl finds her foot having just unwittingly stepped on a nearly invisible wire that stretches just inches above the floor. Realizing another trap was coming, the skaters frantically scan through her surroundings for what sort of contraption may spring and attempts to snuff out her mildly short life. In her little look around, Mally witnesses a set of descending axes that swing down in her direction; leaping right towards the flurry of sharp weapons rather then away from them. Lunging right through the storm of dropping axe’s, the limber and agile skater twist and spin her entire body to evade their razor sharp edges; Mally feels the rusted steel streak just centimeters across her skin as she does a god damn 360 pirouette around the set of deadly weaponry.

After making it straight through the flurry of axes without so much as a scratch, the agile young lass lands right beside the very end of a bookcase; failing to relax as she feels the tile she landed upon give way. Knowing full well she had just stepped right on another pressure plate, she frantically looks through her surroundings once more and preparing for any sort of traps that might spring. From the dark shadows of the library does she witness a set of arrows gliding straight in her direction, the barrage flying ankle high above the stone tile. Seeing the volley of low hanging arrows incoming, the skater leaps up through the air in a graceful front flip to dodge their piercing sharp heads. As she lands back onto the tiled floor, the orange lass finds the next flurry of arrows firing out much higher then the previous set; their deadly tips threatening to pierce right through her orange haired head. To evade this oncoming salvo, the young girl immediately does the splits to lower her head down and away from their path to instead glide straight through her locks of hair. Watching as one more set of arrows flies her way, Mally lowers herself further down with her back to the floor; witnessing the sharp barrage pass right above her entire body. Finding not another storm of deadly arrows firing out from the shadows, the orange skater pulls herself off the floor as a calming sigh escapes from her lungs. Thank goodness for years of rollerblading training and sparing with the bros. Made the body limber as hell.

Tip toeing a little further way through the dust ridden archives, Mally finally makes to the very alphabetical beginning of the historical section. Right at the very end of the “A’s”. Angels are already such a broad subject; this dusty library of the supernatural has to have something to them. From the end of the shelves, the skater glides her finger down the countless spines that stand within the ancient stone shelves. The tip of her index finger sliding against the etched in titles as she continues going down. Right as soon as she spots one of the titles holding the word “Angel” along the spine, Mally swiftly pulls the tome right out from the bookcase and takes a gander to the title plastered on the cover. “Angelic society of the lost” This has to be it. Somewhere in this book there could be a clue for where Tore might be going. Having seemingly found a lead to her little mystery, the young teen gently sits herself down on the dirty stone tile beneath her and cracks open the cover of the book; shining the light of her phone upon the text within. Let’s see here…

From the beginning of recorded earthen history, few findings of these angelic beings have been put into focus and documented as of this books creation. While many of the other primordial creatures saw these powerful beings as nothing more than another creature, one race in particular have adopted them as holy figures for their culture; revering them as messengers to their acclaimed gods and deities. This strange race of worshiping people would hold themselves to a single unifying name: Humanity. Though few interactions of these angels and humans have been scarcely documented, those few events that have managed to be recorded shown the angelic beings offering humanity their blessing for their proof of commitment and loyalty. And though theories have been crafted, what this so called blessing that humanity has been bestowed with has remained a mystery since this tomes publication.

Nonetheless, these angelic people have clearly formed an alliance with early humanity, even going as far as taking on bipedal forms like theirs. Despite their true forms being largely unknown, the angels would gladly take the form of their ally’s to deepen their relations. For nearly the first 5 million years that humanity has kept in contact with the Angels, they were instructed to send one of their young into the caverns of the ascended upon the beginning of every decade to prove their loyalty; a location which is commonly referred to in these days by humanity as Carlsbad Caverns. Even when potential billions of children have descended into these Caverns, none have ever returned to the surface and to their families. When questioned what occurs within these very rocky caverns, all the angels could answer with was that they have ascended with them; an answer which as of this day still has yet to have meaning.

Humanity’s contact with the angels all halted in a single instance, when the Angels suddenly vanished without even a single trace to follow; as if they had left this very plane of existence. Despite the communications between them and the angels seemingly having been cut off for good; some sects of humanity still worship these mysterious powerful beings as holy figures through many ongoing religions; forever seen as messengers to their holy figures.

Once having read all of this for herself, Mally at last shuts the tomes pages to process on all that she had discovered of this once unknown chapter of angelic kind; slipping the book right in her backpack as she rises from the stone tile. Wow...its honestly screwed up how far some pieces of humanity are willing to go for their ideal practices, even sacrificing their own kin to please a mysterious race. Can’t imagine how many bodies are stuffed in those caverns, all of them so young... But still, those cavern in New Mexico must hold some sort of clue to all this; to what Tore called himself, to where that mysterious man is taking him. Though one immediate question still remains to be answered...how the hell doesn’t anybody exit this place?

Once again does the young girl pull her mobile device out from the depths of her overalls, unlocking the screen and taking another look at the map that she had snapped. As she gazes through the every single inch of the entire map, drips of nervous sweat start running down her head when failing to find where exactly the exit of this underground archive may be. The whole place looks to be an isolated from the surface above; with almost no way to climb back up. How the hell is anybody supposed to get out of here then? Do they expect people to just warp in and out of their own will?...Actually, given the shit that’s been seen so far, that might just be it. So that just leaves the question on how a regular person is supposed to break out of here? … Guess there really is just one option here.

Returning to her phones main menu, Mally clicks to her contacts list in hopes of getting through to somebody up above; the sudden bright flash of the contacts pure white background causing the young girl to cover her eyes and tumble backwards. The orange skaters manages to stagger back straight onto a stone wall decorated with an arcane insignia etched within its surface; the markings emitting a powerful glow as soon as she hits herself against the stone. Turning back towards the illuminating mystic symbol, Mally starts to back away from the wall as she witnesses something starting to bulge past the stonework; the bulge growing out a set of triad eyes with a gaping mouth set right in the middle of them all. With all three of the heads eyes staring upon the young lass, Mally takes this site as a more than clear queue to book it the hell away; darting in the opposite direction as the ghastly beast starts to pursue.

Having so little time to see any sort of traps that may lay out before her, the best that the orange girl could do while fleeing from the beast behind her was to take leaping skip after skip over the stone tile ahead; all the while hoping that she doesn’t land on any sort of pressure plate beneath her feet. Its when noticing herself approaching near the “M’s” of this historical section that an idea springs into mind, soon gazing up ahead for any sort of tripwires or plates to trigger. Taking a look back to the ghoul that chases after her, Mally slams her foot straight onto a pressure plate up ahead and leaps back before she could be caught in the trap she had triggered. Right as the monstrosity was but inches from catching its prey, the ceiling full of old corpses above starts to close inward and clasp the pale specter between in its spikes.

The beast that bared its teeth to her seemingly having been vanquished, the girls smile beams bright upon knowing that she just outwitted the monster; a righteous snicker escaping from her lips and echoing through the rest of the library. Its in the midst of claiming victory that the young lady’s jaw suddenly drop when witnessing stretches of white squeeze itself out from the cracks of the pinching ceiling; the beasts three eyes staring at the girl as it starts to escape from the trap. Mally bolts away moments before the ghastly beast could free itself, continuing its feverish pursuit towards its fleeting prey, the ghouls fangs bared as it pursues after. Dammit! Why the hell isn’t Roy awake yet!? Can’t he sense all this happening right below him!?

Back at the library up above, several people causally pass by a mess of books all piled up beside a table filled with more tomes; some of them jumping back when witnessing somebody burst out from this pile of knocked over texts. With a soft yawn escaping him, Roy pulls himself right out of the mound of books that he had been buried in and right off the floor; cracking his eyes open as his lips let out a couple smacks. Well, that nap managed to do fuck all. Barely learned anything about that whole Kybr shit Tore was yammering about. All that came out from that little snooze was just on how Abraham Lincoln lead a secret organization of underground steam work revolutionaries. Cool shit to read about, but nothing usefully relevant. Wait a sec, where the hell did Mal go? His question is swiftly answered when the merc senses his sisters life force trailing beneath his feet; sensing the girl rapidly moving with something else pursuing after her. Oh...oh I get it… Just leave me to do all the studying while you go and do fun shit? Like hell you’re hogging all the action for yourself.

Realizing where his sister wound up, the purple merc quickly ascends to the very top of the grand library; the people around him drawing their attention away from their books and towards the rising black angel. Once reaching the glass dome hanging high above the library, Roy starts to rapidly plummet down towards the bottom floor with his single fist aimed towards the ground; those witnessing the young man rocket downward all fleeting from his suggested point of impact. Just one slamming strike is all that Roy needs to quite literally punch straight through the polished wood floor, the entire library engulfed in a puff of sawdust.

Continuing to flee from the pursuing ghastly monster, the young skater turns along another bookshelf to find the path ahead leading to what seemed like a dead end; nothing but the stone guard rail splitting the dusty library air over. Without an ounce of hesitation does the orange lass vault right over the stone guard and begin plummeting down towards the bottom of the supernatural library; the pale beast that tails her dropping down in its chase. Mally swiftly brandishes her trusty hockey stick and thrusts its bent end right into the stone railing beside her; her weapons caught between the pillars that make up the guard. When she witnesses the triad eyed beast dropping down overhead, the skater quickly pulls herself up to the top of the guard and rolls onto the floor on the other side. A clever smirk stretches across her face when beholding the monster that pursued her continuing to plummet down; that same smile diminishing when watching the ghastly pale head looping through the air and darting back in her direction. With the strange beast continuing to tail after, the skater dashes away in turn deeper through the floor of the library; continuing to skip along the stone tile as the monster pursues.

The roof of the ancient supernatural library suddenly collapses as a purple and black streak punches straight through, soon to crash right on the bottom floor and reducing the etched table below to splinters. When the untouched dust of the broken table finally begins to settles, its reveals the purple merc pulling himself off the table maps remains; a sharp hiss drawn between Roy’s teeth as he grasps the side of his rib cage. Cutting through the pain does a familiar voice reach the purple angel’s ears, hearing his sister call out to him with: “Roy, up here! Mind lending a hand!?” Pushing the pain in his ribs back, the merc swiftly ascends to the floor where he senses his sister; Roy vaulting over the railing to discover Mally being fiercely pursued by a three eyed ghoul ready to bite down upon her. With a lunge straight towards the two of them, Roy shouts out for his young sister to: “Jump aside!” Mally does what her purple brother demands and leaps out behind the nearest bookcase, left to watch as Roy tackles the ghastly monster straight into the shelves off to the side.

Just moments before the pale beast could slip out from the merc’s reach, it soon feels the very end of its tail being tugged back; the monsters triad eyes glancing to its backside in a cold sweat to discover the purple angel keeping a tight grasp on it with but his single arm strewn in threads of black. “He he he he. Bet ya didn’t think there was anyone out there that could grab a ghost like you, did you? I can practically see the panic in those three pupils of yours. “Holy shit, how the hell can he touch me!? What’s he gonna do!?” is what they’re telling me. Those cemented thoughts of how you could just chase around and eat whoever came down here are probably crumbling at the seems, aren’t they? You like watching people squirm for their lives as you chomp down on them, I think its you’re turn to feel the same kind of fear you’ve been inflicting on them first hand, you blobby son of a bitch.”

Finishing this remark, the purple merc thrust his teeth straight into the ghastly spirits pale white flesh; the beastly ghoul letting out a terrified yelp as its body from the tail up start being consumed by the black winged angel. Desperate to escape from the jaws of its newfound predator, the ghostly beast darts through the library while flailing about in hopes of freeing its tail from the chomping merc; Roy refusing to let go of his meal despite being repeatedly smashed into bookcase after bookcase. “You think I’ll let go that easily!?” the merc muffles with his mouth full, continuing to devour the ghostly beasts body. With the beasts bottom half swallowed by the purple young man, Roy punches through the stone tile beneath him to anchor himself to the floor; continuing to vore down the ghastly monster as it struggles to escape from his jaw. The best that the poor spirit could at that point was to claw the bookcase beside them with its circular mouth in the vain hope to keep from being consumed, an endeavor which serves the fearful beast little as the merc consumes the monster further down his throat. Eventually does the ghostly beast teeth loose its grip upon the bookcase’s stone, the monster having little left to hold onto as its vacuumed down Roy’s throat; the merc swallowing the entire beast in just a single gulp like a ghostly noodle. After letting out a satisfied exhale, small hiccups start to pop out from the bowels of his stomach; cursing out how: “God dammit! As if I need this hiccuping shit with the condition my ribs are (hic) in now!”

Just a single hiccup is all it takes for the mercs sides to painfully ache; Roy kneeling down to the stone tile as he clutches his ribs. Seeing her brother in this sort of pain draws her to approach the downed merc and question: “Roy, is it your ribs!?” “Yep, pretty mu- (hic) much. Guess I really need about another week before I’m back in (hic) top form. Fuck, this hurts. What the hell were you even (hic) doing down here anyway?” As she reaches into her backpack, the young lass attempts to explain how: “I kinda wound up in her by total accident if you can believe it. But I did manage to fi-” Moments before the girl could pull the tome out from her bag, both her brother and her hear somebody up above shout to them: “Freeze!” Gazing up towards the hole in the roof that Roy had left, both of them bare witness to a dozens officers aiming their firearms at the two; one of them ordering to: “Both of you get back up here, now!”

Surrounding the cracked grand library be countless police cruisers and vehicles, with dozens of officers on the scene and helping people out of the archives. The officers could be seen passing by both Roy and Mally, who rest at the bottom of the library’s steps as their blue haired mother stands before them and sharply question: “Just what in the hell were both of you thinking doing this? Do you know the kind of trouble you two could have been in?” “Mom, we were just-” the orange girl attempts to explains, but is cut off by her mom. “I know that both of you are desperate to figure out where your brother ran off too, but that does give you the excuse to just mindlessly destroy public property. You two are incredibly lucky that the library drop the charges for uncovering all those books underneath them.”

Right in the middle of getting this earful, the sitting merc suddenly clutches his side as a sharp hiss is drawn between his teeth. “And as for you, I imagine that you managed to get roughed up while both of you were down there and made you’re injuries worse, didn’t you?” His mothers guess proving completely accurate, all that Roy could give as a response was a groaning moan while he averts his gaze from the blue haired woman. He immediately returns his eyes to her and scoots back as the mom gets inches in the mercs face and reiterates on how: “I warmed you that this crap would happen if you wound up getting into trouble and look what you did to yourself. I bet your ribs will have to have another week before they fully heal.” “Alright, fine. I fucked up. Ain’t the seething pain from my broken ribcage enough of a punishment?” “Hell no!”

Hanging off to the side of this furious exchange, Mally reaches into her pack as she decide to pull the conversation back with: “Well despite the mess, I’m at least glad I fished out some clues out from all of this.” “Oh yeah. You find something down there?” her purple brother questions, both their mother and him watching as the orange girl pulls out a book from the depths of her backpack. “I found this book on angels while I was wondering around and read a lot on their relationships with humanity. I think we might be able to fish more info out on the place this book had mentioned. Carlsbad caverns.” “But those caverns are all the way down in New Mexico, how are you planning on getting there quick enough.” the mother asks. When their eyes trace over to the injured merc, Roy iterates on how to: “Don’t look at me. I haven’t gotten much cash in since you two forced be to stay in bed.” “That’s fine, Roy. I don’t think we’ll be needing that much cash anyway. I might know of a couple other friends that can help me get around.”

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Well, I'm back. Took all this time to catch up and start making the season of Young hope I had in mind for a long time now, all to reveal the mysterious nature of Tore and Roy's powers and its mark on history in this world. Hope you stay long enough to see where this all goes.

[redditnosleep]

I'm A Search And Rescue Officer For The US Forest Service, I Have Some Stories To Tell

by searchandrescuewoods.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 (Final)

It's been way too long since I posted an update, and I'm sorry about that. There's also been some confusion about the new formatting requirements on the board, which I've cleared up. So these next few stories are going to be posted a little differently! They'll be in chronological order, and I'll do my best to tie them into each other as much as I can so it doesn't skip around too much.

When I started out as a rookie, no one had told me a lot about the job in terms of weird things that could happen. I'm assuming this was largely to prevent me from freaking out and abandoning the park. But a few months into my service, when I was still a rookie, a friend and I were drunk at a party, and he opened up a bit: "Yeah, it can get a little crazy out there, I guess. I think the worst are the ones where people die when they just shouldn't, you know? Or when we find 'em dead like ten minutes after someone says they saw them last. 'They were fine when I passed them on the switchback, I swear!' That sort of shit. Like, take this guy who I found one spring out on a really popular trail. Someone comes into the VC freaking about about some guy who's lying in the middle of the path in this giant pool of blood. So we run out there, and we find this guy dead as a doornail. Which he absolutely should be, because the back of his head is like mashed potatoes. The skull is decimated, brains are leaking out like custard filling, and they guy's old so you figure yeah, he probably fell and hit his head. Old people fall all the time, it's no big deal. Except that this area where he fell doesn't HAVE any big rocks. There's not even any stumps or big branches. And on top of that, there's no blood trail, so he clearly died where he dropped. Now that's when you'd turn to murder, but there were people just out of line of sight with the guy. If someone came up behind him and murdered him, there's no way someone wouldn't have heard. And again, even if someone had, there'd be a blood trail, spatter all over the place. But everyone on the scene said it looked exactly like he'd fallen and smashed his head on a rock. So what the fuck did he hit his head on? And then there was this lady I found in a different park about five years ago, back when I was upstate. We found her in the middle of a stand of big junipers, curled around the trunk, like she was huggin' it. We pick her up to move her, and a fucking waterfall comes out of her mouth, splashes all over my shoes. Her clothes are dry, and her hair is dry, but the amount of water in her lungs and stomach was phenomenal. Unreal, man. Coroners report? Says the cause of death was drowning. Her lungs were completely full of water. This, even though we're in the middle of the high desert, and there isn't a body of water for miles. No puddles, no nothing. No signs of anyone else being out there. I mean yeah, it's possible they were murdered. But why go out of the way to do it like that? Why not just stab 'em and be done with it? I dunno, it just sits weird with me."

Now of course, that freaked me out a little. But we were wasted, and I guess I sort of wrote it off as a fluke. I also assumed there was exaggeration there, since, you know, we were wasted.

Now, I don't like talking about this next case very much. It was an awful one that I've done my best to forget about, but of course that's easier said than done. This happened about six months after the conversation with my friend at the bar, and up until that point I hadn't had a lot of really weird shit go down. A few things here and there, and of course the stairs, but it's amazingly easy to get used to stuff like that when it's treated as if it's normal. This case was a little different.

A guy with Down's Syndrome in his 20s went missing after his family lost sight of him on a major path. That was odd in and of itself, because this guy never left his mom's side. She was absolutely convinced he'd been kidnapped, and unfortunately a Ranger who isn't with the park anymore insinuated that no one was going to kidnap someone... well, with that kind of disability. Not very tactful, to say the least. We wasted a lot of time trying to calm her down enough to get information about him, and then we put out an official missing persons call. Because of the urgency of the situation, him being mostly unable to function alone, we had local police come in and help us. We didn't find him the first night, which was heartbreaking. None of us wanted to think of him being alone out there. We assumed he'd just kept wandering, and was staying ahead of us. We brought out helis the next day, and they spotted him in a little canyon. I helped bring him back up, but he was in bad shape, and I think we all knew he wasn't gonna make it. He'd fallen and broken his spine, and couldn't feel his lower half. He'd also broken both his legs, one at the femur, and he'd lost a lot of blood. He was confused and scared while he was alone, so he'd probably exacerbated the injuries by dragging himself a little ways. I know it sounds awful, but while I was riding in the copter with him, I asked him why he'd wandered off. I just wanted something to tell his mother, to let her know it wasn't her fault, because he was fading fast and I didn't think she'd get to ask him herself. He was crying, and he said something about how 'the little sad boy' had wanted him to come play. He said the little boy wanted to 'trade' so he could 'go home'. Then he closed his eyes, and when he woke up again, he was in the canyon. I'm not sure that's exactly what he said, but it was what I thought the gist of it was. He kept crying, asking where his mommy was, and I held his hand and tried my best to keep him calm. 'It was cold out there.' He kept saying that. 'It was cold out there. My legs was frozen. It was cold out there. It's cold in me.' He was getting even weaker, so he eventually stopped talking, and he closed his eyes for a while. Then, when we were about five minutes from the hospital, he looked right at me, with these big tears running down his face, and he said 'Mama won't see me no more. Love mama, wish she was here.' And he closed his eyes and he just... never woke up. It was horrible, and I don't like talking about it. That case was one of the first ones that really rattled me badly.

Because of how badly it affected me, I reached out to a senior Ranger, and who ended up helping me through it. As time went on, and we got to know each other better, he ended up sharing one of his own stories with me. It was disturbing, but it helped to know that I wasn't the only one affected by the things going on out there. "I think this must have happened before you got here, because I think if it had happened while you were here you'd have remembered it. I know it didn't end up in the news, for some reason, but I think most people who've been here long enough know about it. The park sold off a portion of land to a logging company, and it was a really controversial thing. But it wasn't that large or old of a plot, and it was right after the recession, so we needed cash bad. Anyway, they were felling this plot of land, and we get a call that we need to get our supervisors out right away. I don't know why, but they ended up sending me and a few other guys along with the heads, I guess for power in numbers, to see what was up. We got there, and all these guys are crowded around a tree that they've just cut down. They're all pissed off and freaking out and the foreman comes over and says he wants to know what we think we're up to. "What the hell y'all think this is, some kinda sick joke? You've got a lot of fuckin' nerve pulling this shit, we bought this land fair and square!" Well we don't know what the hell he's talking about, so he brings us over to this felled tree and points at it and tells us that when they cut it down, it was just like this, and they'll be damned if they put it there. The inside of the tree was all rotted out and hollow in one spot, and when they'd cut it down it had exposed that chamber, and inside it is a hand. Like a perfectly severed hand. And looks like it's actually fused with the inside of the tree. Well now we think THEY'RE pulling a joke, so we tell them that we don't like being fucked with, and we start to leave, but they tell us they've already called the cops, and that they'll go right to the media if we don't stick around. Well that gets the heads' attention, so they stick around and talk to the police about it. Everyone is denying that they put the hand in there, and besides, how would anyone have even done it? It's clearly a real hand, but it's not mummified or skeletal. It's brand new, probably not even a day old. And it is definitely fused with the wood, you can see that it's coming right out of it. The loggers, they insist that they didn't put it there. Somehow, this fresh human hand ended up fused to the inside of this living tree. The cops have them cut up that section of tree into a movable chunk. Then they take the hand away, and the area is closed off. There was a pretty big investigation, but I know they didn't find get any answers. Now it's become this legend, and as far as I know we haven't sold any more property for logging."

As you all know, I went to a training seminar recently, and heard some amazing and horrible things there. One of the guys I talked to while I was there told me a story when we were all around the campfire one night. We were both pretty drunk, you'll see a pattern here, and we were swapping stories. He told me this one: "Me and another guy were out on a field search because some campers reported screaming noises at night. So we head out there to look for whatever fucking mountain lion has wandered into the area, and I'm pissed. We've had three of them show up in the camping areas that year alone and I'm getting tired as hell of constantly having to deal with them. Plus, I just don't like them anyway. They're a pain in the ass and they're loud and they scare the shit out of me. Fuckin' cats. Pieces of shit. I'm groanin' about it to the guy I'm with and he thinks it's a real fuckin' riot. So we're seeing all these broken branches and what look like dens and we're pretty sure we know where this thing is. I call in and they tell me to confirm if possible, which you know just means they want to you to step in a big pile of shit and use that as proof. I'm not seeing any, though, so I basically just tell 'em to shove it, I'm done. We know that damn thing's out here somewhere, even if I'm not stepping in its shit or inside its mouth or whatever. Guy I'm with wanders off to take a piss or whatever, and I stay behind watching this little burrow under a tree to see if maybe a fox or somethin' is living under it, 'cause I love foxes, man. They're cute as hell. But anyway, I'm watching this tree and I start hearing branches crackling and it's coming from the direction my partner went opposite of. Now I've got my pistol, but you and I both know that's not gonna do shit against a cat. I cock it and holler for my partner to get his dumb ass back, but he's too far and he can't hear me. I stand up and get my sights on where the thing is approaching, and I shit you not, man, I just about peed myself. This guy is coming toward me, and he's back-flipping through the fucking woods. Like, instead of walking, he's doing these crazy fucking back-flips, and I swear to God he cleared every fucking log and bush in his path, it was like he knew right where he was going. I yell at the guy to stop right where he is, that I'm pointing a gun right at him, but he keeps coming, and I just kinda lost it. I shot at the ground in front of him, and it was a dumb fuckin' thing to do, but man I didn't want this guy anywhere near me. When I fired, he was about fifty yards from me, and as soon as the gun goes off, he whirls around and goes off, back-flipping back into the woods. My partner hears my gun go off and runs back and asks what's up, and I tell him there's some fucking weirdo out here hopped up on God knows what, and we need to get the hell out of Dodge. I let the cops know what happened, and I didn't get in any trouble for firing, but man, I don't know what that motherfucker was on but I've never seen anything like that before. Shit was absolutely butt-fuck crazy."

I think we can agree that there's stuff going on out here in the woods, and while I'm not going to spout off about what it could be, or offer any theories, what I want people to take away from all of this is that it is so damn important to be safe when you're out there. I know a lot of you think you're invincible, but the fact is that you CAN die out there, or be hurt, or go missing. It's easier than you'd ever imagine.

I apologize for this relatively short update, guys, I will do my absolute best to continue this series as soon as possible. Thanks for all your continuing support, it means the world to me!

[dwam-crack-blog]

The Surrogate

This is the first thing I’ve written in a long while. Well, as far as short stories go. It’s pretty rushed and sloppy but I’ve never been the type to not show off my work, regardless of how good or bad it might be, so. Hope you like it anyway because that’s just the way I am.

And because of ego.

Mostly ego.

____________________________________________________

Bone marrow makes up about a little over 4% of the average human being's body weight. And like with everything in the human body, it's one of those things your biology teacher smirked about as he mused over how such seemingly "small" parts of us can have such a huge impact on our daily lives. If he was the religious sort, he might've tried to maybe sneak in the ol:' "Have you ever noticed how the human body just... works? Hmm... Almost like a machine! Ah, but machines are designed by us, their creators. Why, almost as if..." He probably didn't go any further than that because the principal was just dying to have his ass and, let's face it, everyone would've gotten the point anyway.

Still, your snarky biology teacher probably had a point. For something that tiny, the damned things really do put in work.

...Huh?

Bone marrow. I'm talking about bone marrow.

It produces roughly 500 billion blood cells per day. That's billion with a 'b'.

But see - you're not surprised. Because of course you're not. The human body is awesome like that. It does all this crazy shit that you know is crazy shit because everyone keeps saying it's crazy shit. There's no real 'oomph' to it anymore.

Then again, there's only so much 'oomph' you can give when you glance at the body of your average Joe Schmoe. It's just kinda… There. It eats, it sleeps, it sits down at the TV and watches other relatable Joe Schmoes go on about their daily lives of eating, sleeping and sitting down to watch the TV. And I'm not dissing Joes out there. Like, the beefcakes aren't doing any better. You look at them and it's just... gross, right? But more importantly...

It's all kind of boring.

The human body is boring.

It's little more than that action figure you begged for your mom to get you as a kid, promising you'll play with it every day ever, and then left on the shelf to gather dust until you eventually sold it to some collector so you could afford getting high the next Friday.

Now, with the way you're looking at me, I'm starting to think you're not really relating to me much here. Well, you'll be pleased to know that I'm not relating to myself either. I'm doing that thing where I pretend to understand how the average high school mind works in hopes of getting you on my side.

I know. It's pretty shitty. And I get that.

But the human body is also shitty. On top of being boring, it also falls apart. It's fragile. For all the praise that I really do have to give it, claiming it's a crowning achievement of anything is kind of sad. It's weak against things it doesn't understand. It must suffer and hope to overcome.

Break one bone and it becomes a hazard to literally everything surrounding it.

Breathe a certain element every moment or you die.

Ingest a certain amount of food or you'll pass out.

Ingest too much and you'll have a heart attack.

Get hit in a certain part of your skull, and it goes right to the brain.

Oh, and the brain -- the brain can rebel. The brain can lie.

As a product, the human body is a disgrace.

As a machine, though, it exists to be improved.

 I mean, that's--That's what...

 Sorry. Give me a sec here. No, don't-- just. Stay there.

 ...I wasn't always like this. I didn't think about these things.

But at some point, life just kicks you in the teeth and it's more a matter of "having to" rather than "wanting to".

And for me, it all started when that thing bit me.

I shouldn't call it a “thing". It was human. Once. Homeless, by the looks of it. Makes sense. They're usually the best targets. Their blood generally has the least taste to it, so you can detach yourself from the situation. No need to drag them to a dark corner when they're already living in one. They're too weak and tired to resist. And even if they scream - nobody ever comes.

...So I've heard, anyway.

 My transformation took about two days, I want to say. I went to the doctor and he said I checked out fine. He joked about the bite marks. I joked, too. It was before... well, everything. Nobody knew.

Stop looking away. I'm just... getting my thoughts in order. I'm not trying to treat you like an idiot. I want you to understand.

On the third day, I realized I couldn't leave my home. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't even peek out the window. Drawing the curtains wasn't enough. At first, I thought it was a migraine. A fever.  But it eventually got so bad that I got electrical tape and used my bedsheets to cover the entire wall. I spent hours checking to make sure I did it right.

The idiots keep saying even now that it's because it burns us.

But that isn’t it.

It blinds.

Because of the shift in the circulatory and digestive system, the amount of blood sent across the organs changes. It increases. That's why the "feeding" was even a thing. We had to compensate for our new body's demands.

In that shift of priorities, the amount of blood going to the eye sockets jumps. It becomes unable to figure out how to properly handle extremely lit areas. Light refracts incorrectly and falls on the wrong nerves, causing pain. No image is produced.

I'm -- look. I'm telling you all this so you can understand what your dad was helping me out with, okay? He made these lenses for me. He did good work. Nobody else has them. They're just for me.

Do you get that?

Do you understand how much he meant to me?

 Wait. Wait, no.

No, that's... I'm sorry. I'm still kinda freaking out, I guess. I mean, you're the one sitting here with--

...

Heh.

Well, there's a nervous chuckle out of me. I'm on the right track here.

 ...It didn't take me long to figure out what was happening. Or, at least, take a guess. I mean, I could literally see my body shift and change just by looking in the mirror. It made me sick, but I couldn't even puke. I was hungry, but I didn't WANT food. I pissed and shat blood.

And just a few hours later, I felt better than I ever did in my entire life.

I rushed out of my apartment. The night air was cold but it was like I barely felt it. Like I was sitting back in my comfy chair in some control center and just enjoying the ride. Of course - I didn't have any superpowers.

And by the way, that whole thing's bullshit - just gonna lay that one out there. It's pure bullshit. It doesn't happen. It's a myth. End of story.

You can't fly. You can't run fast. You can't sparkle.

Although - you remember how every part of the body gets an increased amount of blood flowing through it?

I really did mean every part.

So, naturally, I went to my girlfriend's. She seemed more surprised over seeing me smiling than how pale I looked. But I shrugged it off by just saying I was sick.

And goddamn. What a night.

What

a horrible

fucking night.

Don't get me wrong. The sex was fantastic. While it was going, at least.

Then I gave her a little love bite and...

Well.

I did say I didn't eat anything. And, I mean, not like I was really, seriously thinking that I was a -- look, you get it, right?

Right.

She said I bit her too hard. I mean, of course I did. So, she ended up kicking me out.            

We hooked up a few times after that. Once all of... this... was out in the open. I mean, why not, you know? We can't have children. STDs can't touch us. So why not have some fun?

Okay, okay. I get it. I'm getting gross. I guess I was just kind of bragging.

 Right. Not the right time.

 I made my way home. Dawn was nearing and although I didn't have everything figured out, my paranoia was rightfully telling me to start picking up the pace.

The city was quiet for a change. The streets dead and empty. I could hear my own footsteps echoing.

My own footsteps... and the sound of a car, swirling as it desperately tried to regain control.

The driver was a retired shoes salesman who'd just found out his wife got full custody. The usual. He went to a bar. As you do. He got drunk. Of course he did. He drove back home, thinking about he was going to sit down and watch some TV about more Joe Schmoes. As everyone does.

And then, he fell asleep. Naturally.

And he hit a pot hole. What else could he have done?

And by the time he woke up, he was too confused to remember to hit the brake. God forbid he had.

So, I guess it's quite natural that he ended up smashing into me; smushing my body tightly between fresh grafitti and the hood of his 1986 third generation Ford Mustang.

I cried a lot. I screamed a lot.

Dawn had broken.

 I woke up in a hospital bed. They said they'd given me a transfusion. I nodded. They asked if I could hear them. A bone in my neck was broken and I instinctively jerked my head slightly forward in shock. They took that as a "yes".

They had questions. About me. About my blood.

I didn't know what to tell them.

It's kind of hard to believe, looking back on it. We'd supposedly been around for centuries, and yet THAT was the only time someone had ever landed themselves in a hospital?

Even now, I can't believe it.

 The part that followed, I guess you know better than I do.

Suddenly, Joe Schmoes weren't looking at themselves anymore. They were looking at something new. Something different.

Something not boring.

 They didn't experiment on me, but that's only because I became such a poster boy.  I was the one they'd invite to the talk shows. I was the one getting on TIME magazine. I was the one getting all the fake Twitter accounts made under his name. I was the one getting to suddenly have my hair slicked back so I could actually look like fucking Dracula. I was the one that had people ship him blood in packs neatly placed in ice containers. Poor things didn't know my manager was getting some for me on a weekly basis. (I never asked from where.)

No. No, they didn't experiment on me.

It began with the homeless - and it continued with the homeless. And about that part, I know about as much as the next guy. They're still doing it. I mean - we all know they are. Uh - you mind if I smoke here?

...I'll take that as a "whatever".

 So that's how I came to know your dad. By just being an interesting new thing at a certain point in time.

He sent me his invention in the mail. I'm still shocked he got it through shipping.

His idea was simple, but frankly - genius.

A machine that would increase the productivity of the bone marrow - doubling the blood cell count made in a day. It made sense. Without the need for food, the only thing the body solely relies on is BLOOD. That's what makes us special.

Our bodies take blood to make more blood.

Our bone marrows can take a little bit of something and make even more of it.

Magic.

And your dad figured out how it could make us even more. So much that there was no need for "feeding". We had become self-sustaining. A perpetuum mobile!

Yeah. It was magic. And your dad was the master of the arts.

 Of course I called him. Of course I called my manager. Of course I called whoever came to fucking mind.

And of course what happened next happened.

"Dracula and Dr. Frankenstein." What a shitty title for a duo. But your dad liked it.

 And once the word got out - well. The same thing that always happens happened.

The whole world wanted to piss and shit blood.

 No more worries of getting old. No more worries of starving to death. No more fear of heart attacks. Of getting too fat or too skinny.

Get stabbed? No trouble - just increase the Marrow Machine to 11 and no blood loss for you! Get shot? Stay cool, my dude - your senses are so dulled, they can cut you open and just take the bullet out as is!

 And after the Spanish government pulled off that Mr. Burns scheme of covering up Barcelona with a big giant dome to hide the sunlight?

It was a fucking riot.

I mean, literally.

But it doesn't matter how much you scream or shout. Change is change. Sooner or later, you're forced to accept it.

And here we are.

The whole world, in darkness.

And yet, here I am, still wearing the lenses.

 ...Your father was a smart man.

He realized that with the way things are going, it's only a matter of time before the scales tip and you become just a skeleton in a museum.

It's evolution.

 Unfortunately, this... all this... didn't make us any smarter.

For all the advantages we have, we're not immortal. We just think we are. And it's only a matter of time before the high wears off and everything goes back to normal. To being boring and predictable. To the endless bickering and bloodshed. And there's gonna be a lot more blood.

And by the time everyone realizes you can still die from getting your head cut off, there'll be way too few of us left.

And it won't matter how much we fuck.

That belly will never grow again.

It isn't just evolution.

It's also the final chapter.

 Your father, being the smart man that he was, also realized this. And he rejected it.

While it was true that two of our kind could never procreate... amid all this chaos and noise... nobody had actually bothered to see what happens when a human womb carries a tainted child. It was sort of unthinkable. Like bestiality of sorts.

But he wanted to try it. He had to.

And so he chose the only specimen he could find. That he could get away with.

 You.

 I don't know what he told you.

I don't know what he did to you.

I don't know about the things that went on behind closed doors in this house.

 I didn't know about any of this.

I didn't know... it's mine.

I had nothing to do with any of that.

I'm just the guy who got on TV.

 But also, I...

 I do know that he's dead.

His corpse is in the basement.

I know that you killed him.

And I know that's that.

I know that.

 ...What happens now is up to you.

I don't hate you.

I don't want to hurt you.

I know it'd be wrong if I did.

But to be perfectly honest, I... don't care what you do.

 I just want to go back home and get some sleep.

I don't want to be here.

I don't want to be having this conversation.

I don't want to keep saying these things to you.

I don't want to keep trying to get you to understand that  I--I really didn't...

That none of this was what I...

 ...I don't want to keep rambling.

I don't want to think anymore about how I sound to you.

I don't want to keep deciding what I should do right now, as his friend.

 His body smells.

 Your father was a smart man.

I'm sure he would've known what to say.

 But... But there he is.

Down there.

 ...I'm tired.

I want to go home.

I don't know what you want me to say.

 ...I bet you just want me to shut up and leave you alone.

 Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Do what you want. It's your life.

Enjoy the time you have left.

I think I've made it pretty clear that I'm not father material. In any way.

So keep that in mind in case you choose to...

 Right.

 I'm keeping the lenses, though.

On some days, I see kids - kids that got turned - hurling stones at the dome.

 It makes me think.

[monkeydluffy19920]

Chapter 863 review

Wedding crashers are on their way to create a unforgettable day  !

So the mystey of “Luffy clones” is solved (well it wasn’t a mystery because they had Brulee and it would be waste to not to exploit the enemy’s skills but surely Big Mom and wedding guests were surprised). What honestly I didn’t partly expect was that man like Luffy wanted to form a plan but at least we finally found a reason why he was so excited about the “grande entrance”. Usually Luffy is the guy who goes around with his instincts and so on but as we can see, there is also a slight side of strategic-captain.

So the chaos is unleashed and even Big Mom’s biggest dream, the wedding cake is literaly falling apart. Luffy indeed made a impressive entrance that would fit his style :’D I think many of us spotted already that there was one “Luffy” jumping out who looked differently and in the end we find more about that but I wonder did the wedding guests notice that? 

I think this has been already brought up some times but it really was expected that Sanji would save Pudding no matter what and it was even hinted in the chapter title (chivalrous). Personally I don’t think it has nothing to do with romance and it’s more about Sanji’s gentleman-nature not to leave any damsels in distress.

Meanwhile I was writing this review I bumped into a very rude message adressed to my fellow sanami-shipper mate and what I paid attention in that “feedback” was that this other user was trying to say that Sanji is only a pervert. Well I don’t deny his perverted nature at all but it’s kind of sad and that what one of the main themes Oda has highlighted during the whole arc and Sanji’s best traits (Sanji’s kindness) is totally ignored and undeappreciated by some people but again I will repeat myself and tell that we interpret these things differently and this is just one opinion in million seas :d

There are many examples that Sanji is not just a ero kappa with dirty thoughts and this chapter again only proved again that no matter who the damsel is Sanji is ready to save them, even though he would have the chance to leave them behind to suffer. Sanji  has been the knight in shining armor before and my mate @pernanegra​​ summed this up very well in his post here and like he said, Sanji’s chivarly and kindness does not have boundaries when it comes down to ladies and his closest nakamas. 

Oda does not focus on Pudding’s reaction which is a bit odd but also something what kinda makes sense because probably he wants to keep her as a mystery as long as he can. I think this has been mentioned in my previous reviews but it’s odd that despite the fact that Pudding plays a huge role in this whole arc Oda still keeps us unaware about her “real self”. What I mean is that he makes us readers constantly guessing whether she is bad or good (retrieval team meeting her at cafe vs her misleading them vs her being the ray of hope for Sanji vs her going to prison to tell Luffy and Nami that she will shoot Sanji vs her showing her third eye vs her still planning to kill Sanji vs the sudden breakdown in last chapter). Still having some slight hopes that her character would become more interesting than what we saw in last chapter. Again repeating myself that I’m not underestimating her past but Iike said in last review, that feeling of her possibly becoming a damsel in distress would make me feel disappointed because there was so much more potential on her than that and also the gaps in her story confuses but never say never). I think someone actually flashed a suggestion that due her unstable(?) personality she might even develope an obsession to Sanji who turned out to be her “saviour” but again better to read more before guessings. 

It seems like the there are also things shattering inside the Charlotte family because they find out that Opera lied to them to get a chance to run away and I believe this will definitely be a tough cookie for Big Mom who is already going insane because of her cravings and souls are taken (meanwhile some of the guests are like “cool I like dis!” and probably thinking this is for entertaining or something?).  My mate @namibean​​ pointed this already out in her review and I agree that it’s quite a risk to leave Ceasar to be the the only one in Mirror World. He is not a liked character among Straw Hats and he might not be worth to trust. Actually Robin’s warning in Punk Hazard about the risks of pirate alliances could be foreshadowing to this if Ceasar would betray them. He would have good reasons to do this because well he never wanted to be with SH or with BM’s troops either so could see a scenario where he is something like “shurororo, so long suckers !!” but well he can be reliable as well, we don’t know. It actually seems like WCI arc is nothing but a question mark after another and we are constantly trying to igure out how the plot will go and then Oda-sensei goes and does it differently :D 

What I absolutely love in this arc is how much Nami has gotten spotlight in general and also we can see how much she has matured during the time skip, which we have pondered with my mate pernanegra in our Sanami in the New World- series (btw newest part on to do-list, let’s hope I manage to finish it before the arc is already finished :D) . Nami might still be afraid of some things but she is now much more eager to take responsibility and ready to take the lead if needed and we have seen already how much potential Oda has loaded on Nami so I really hope to see her kick some ass with her new weapon \o/  

Capone faced the surprise of his life when Luffy let out the truth so suddenly (but that was expected and who would blame this cinnamon bun for being so honest? xd). So the goal is to smash the picture BM treasures but of course it would be too easy if it just happened so Katakuri interrupts and gets Luffy caught. He foresaw Luffy’s intentions which for some reason the SH weren’t prepared for. His df ability seemed to remind Luffy’s since he kinda can strech and what I am more surprised of was BM’s comment, instead of thanking she just scoled him but well she is twisted. However then comes the badass-combo scenery and boss Jinbe steps into the game. Definitely deserves all the praise because he was the ray of hope for prisoners and in general we can say that his help has been remarkable. Jinbe drops a big bomb and tells that he doesn’t want to be part of BM’s plots so he could later join to Straw Hats. There is no doubt about his loyalty with Luffy but what I am amazed of is that “Momma” isn’t able to take Jinbe’s lifespan and it seems like she is pissed of and we can expect a  epic fight in future ! Elsewhere another badass is making his move, one of the Luffies is accomplishing the mission and breaking the frame of Mother Caramel. I am so glad that also Brook has gotten lots of spotlight in this arc and he has done splendid job during this retrieval mission. It’s good to remind readers that even though Brook is mostly known from his skull jokes and panty questions, that skeleton can rock a block and it’s even needless to say that Luffy has done very excellent choises when he has befriend with different mates.  

What left me wondering was that where on earth are the Vinsmokes? They were so hyped in the beginning f this arc but somehow it feels like they are “left behind”. Of course there was lots of things already in this chapter but I guess Sanji might have gone to their direction. Somehow it would just feel logical but on the other hand wuld they and there is still Pudding who hasn’t made a move so would warning his relatives be too risky? Oh well don’t matter because this is just random pondering and the chapter was a good read and we’ll know more anyways after the next one is out.

[bigbadwolf619]

Bheriya Smokes/Tawagoto

Age: 48 (Physically looks 21 as she does not age)

{Bheriya: The Ladies love it}

Race: Wolfman/Demigod

{Bheriya: hey don’t mention the God part}

Gender: Male

{Bheriya: You better believe it}

Occupation: Supernatural Hunter/Hired Pirate/Wrestler/Demon Hunter/Mercenary/Universal Hunter

{Bheriya: Does being a sexy dog count?}

Personality: Overconfident, cocky while being a big womanizer, tends to make out with many attractive dangerous women of different races, especially ones he rescues, loves to fire guns of many types, especially his 2 special gun, can be sadistic towards his enemies in fights, doesn’t take life seriously and tend to joke around, quick to anger especially when drunk with Devil’s Rum, loves Remnant for having so many attractive women of different type, even evil ones, he is actually very honest for a killer, loves to get paid and then have sex with women, most of the time does not react to his pain if he gets impaled or hurt as he just walks it off quite quickly while regenerating, gets excited if an attractive woman attacks him and teases them dodging or blocking, falls for Queen Alpha and doesn’t care about her status, dislikes Kurai but cares for her as a sibling, respects Muetre for his power and strength along with his sly ways, even as a killer he is very smart and knows many languages thanks to Muetre and Gus, talk to his imaginary wolf a lot who somehow came to reality so others can hear and see while able to pet him, doesn’t care if the racist term “doggy” or “dog” is used on him, hates his other 6 half-siblings, hates his Father Rougarou the Wolf God

{Bheriya: Eh he was a dick anyway}

Skills/Power: As a Wolfman, Bheriya possesses claws and agility as well as good hearing and sniffing like his kind , but as a Demigod he has many powerful abilities along with being physically super strong and nearly invulnerable regenerating body that most of the time cannot take damage and when he does take damage he mostly shrugs it off as if it was nothing and carries on attacking, he can actually tear time and space and pull out a crazy weapon out depending where he is, it is actually random whatever he pulls out, even he doesn’t know what he is pulling out but does so anyway, Bheriya can move really fast while able to take on any punishment, his power lets his body generate thunder whenever his angry, he has knowledge on the Devil’s Tongue and can speak in it to cause destruction, Bheriya also knows curses and Reaper abilities thanks to Muetre, he can tear an enemies soul out with his bare-hand, use Reaper Vision to see into the past or little of the future, of an area or someone, Reaper Storage where can store anything in another realm and summon when he wants to, Reaper Travel that lets him click his fingers to instantly teleports wherever he wants to go, his greatest power is his Wolf God form which makes him take on the form of a dark wolf that changes appearance randomly whenever he triggers it, something it would be bigger or smaller, sometime it has extra limbs or can even cover the whole sky, he has the ability to summon many spiritual wolves to aid him and when he howls to the Moon he will become stronger and more wild with his senses enhanced, he has the ability to copy the powers and weapons of his enemies he kills quite like Megaman/Skillfully he can uses both blades and guns while able to withstand their effects as Gabriel’s Rage was so powerful  in destroying in it’s shot that it could tear the users arm off, but Bheriya’s strength can withstand it, Joker’s Laugh drives the user to insanity making them laugh so much, but Bheriya’s already insane nature makes him already adjusted with the SMG, Bheriya is very skilled in using in Hooksword which he can duplicate and throw many times as he wants, he can even enlarge the blade to huge or small sizes, this isn’t the blades ability, it is actually Bheriya doing this somehow

{Bheriya: Why have 1 when you can have 100?}

Weapons/Tools: Many supernatural firearms Gus has made for him, Gabriel's Rage Handgun that can decimate a target or object, Joker’s Laugh SMG which starts off weak but then gets stronger from continuous shooting shredding through the enemy and objects rapidly, this depends on the users sanity, if the are mad then the SMG is stronger, the Hooksword Bheriya took from 1 of his Slavers which are used to torture and discipline Slave Wolfmens, he has 2 on him usually as he can duplicate the blades, he has weapons that he also collected from the Demon Lords and Devils he killed along with other enemies

{Bheriya: If you can do it in video games, why not real life?}

Backstory: {Bheriya: I’m narrating my on Bio here, Ahem...}

I'm Smokes, Bheriya Smokes, before I became a badass or the member of Smokes Enterprise I was a slave, like every other Wolfman, in Ravage Wolfmens were common, nothing like Remnant or fuckin Conton, there were also Gods, 5 Gods to be exact who watched over the world and made sure Hell remained closed, though they weren't really Gods they were seen as that as the real God the Creator was basically the "do your owns shit while not helping sort of guy", but besides that the world, was alright, had nothing to worry about...well 500 years ago anyway, something happened, it wasn't only Ravage, but other worlds

Though Ravage got most of the shit put on it, most of the Gods were somehow killed by an unknown force, only 1 survived, the Wolf God Rougarou, but because the Ethereal World was destroyed he could not use his full-power, so he went mad and sort a vessel to use so he can use his power again, to do this he would need to plant his seed in a poor woman's womb to have a child to take over, but to be sure this works, he raped 7 women, 1 had me, her name was Yorokobi from the East, a woman of the Church a pretty woman...but a bitch, I mean I can't blame her she got raped by a mad dog, out of anger and being kicked out of the Church for having me, she threw me away and I ended up in a Slave Camp of Wolfmens Now the reason why the Wolfmens were getting all the shit was because the God that supports a.k.a the asshole Father of mines was causing trouble and they blamed us for the shit he's done, assholes

Because of that we were hunted or enslaved, we were all scared and weak...well except me, I was rebellious, our slavers were 3 Orc Lords, Jason, Grayson and Mason had as builds stuff for them and lift away things, we were only given rest if we did a decent job, we'd get tortured if we did not do well, when the Orcs found me they named me Tawagoto and to all you Japanese folks you might know what that means, I use to try to escape or not listen, so I use to get most of the punishment, this carried on for 10 years of my life, yet I wasn't scared, at all, just pissed, during that time a voice in my head started talking, and I saw a Wolf made of black smoke, he talked to me and made me feel better, I realized he wasn't real after a while, but that didn't matter

I was still there doing shit, I couldn't take it anymore, the cruel treatment, seeing your own kind killed and raped in front of you, it was driving me insane, so I tried escaping again, but once again that bastard Orc Lord Mason got in the way and because he was a fat muthafucker, he was strong but this didn't make him slow, he beat my ass again but said instead of taking me back that he would kill me instead Of course that failed miserably as my anger and desperation woke something inside of me, I saw Wolf again, I thought he couldn't do anything but he somehow bit Mason's leg and not only that Mason is able to see him, I thought I lost my mind and seeing things, but he tells me "Do it! Do it now!" I wondered what he meant before my hand transformed into a dark monster like hand and I slashed the bastard's eye out, while he was in pain I ran as fast as I can in the distance and cried in joy being free finally

I had no idea what happened to me but I broke out after all those years, after that I came to the City of Jibana, the place they claim God watches over, yeah right, he's pretty much left this world to rot what with the Demons broken loose and some living casually in the criminal underworld, sadly the Apartheid was here too and no one liked seeing a Wolfman civilized, so bad that some kids started chasing me for no reason and wanted to kick my ass, I ran but ended up in a dead end, I told them to leave me alone then they end up beating the living shit out of me, 1 even had a bat smashing my skull, they pissed me off so much that my Monster side woke up again and I shredded all those little shits up, now I know how Lucy feels, I ran from there and saw what I'm able to do, this sort of made me more crazy...but happy at the same time I realized with this power I can kill those who wrong me, I picked up a pipe as back up while trying to Master my power, I then went on killing people who tried getting at me, I even killed slavers and rescued some of my kind, of course this meant that the heat would be on my ass

The Order noticed my activity and wanted to stop me, to be honest I was kinda scared, these guys were the hunter of beasts I knew these dicks would be too strong for me, but trying to escape them was impossible, in the end I had to fight them head on with my lead pipe and claws, I managed to beat them and kill them, then put their heads on spikes to spread the word of me, after that I became known as the Butcher of Jibana killing any fools getting in my way, but the Order didn't give up in hunting me and sent their living weapons the Silver Maidens, a bunch of woman who all seem to be attractive, likely because the woman in charge of their transformation was a desperate lesbian or something, they are fused with powerful Demon Blood becoming the ultimate killing machines in Jibana, once they attacked me I thought I could beat the easily...how wrong I was

The girls turn out to be a challenge for me as I take them all on with their speed, strength and power combined, they weren't messing around, I got badly hurt but it only just pissed me off to the point that I started to kick their asses hard, I managed to overpower them but 1 of them went berserk and became an Awakened Being, I nearly got killed but my Wolf side just made me go crazy and I defeated her with my power, this stopped her healing and weakened her, I then shouted to the citizens that Jibana is mine and that no one could mess with me, no one Jibana then became my playground, I could do whatever I want and no one could stop me...except him

The man with the hat, smokes every minute with a cigar that smells like death, Muetre Smokes, during 1 of my time messing around I raided a shop and killed some people while the others ran off, I ate all their stuff and gave some to Wolf too since he was my only friend then, but when I was having fun, in comes the old man himself, it turns out that the Order couldn't actually beat me, so they got him instead, I attacked but only managed to scratch his arm, the old man was tricky and after an intense battle, he beat my ass, I then couldn't take it anymore and waited for him to kill me, but he instead offered me something, offered me a job

After a while I accepted when he mention I could be a free citizen and that I will be treated equally like everyone else, it sounded like bullshit to me but it was either accept that or be put down like a common dog, after being known as dead and renamed to my sexy name the ladies know me by, Bheriya Smokes, during my time with the old man I met up with that blood bitch Kurai, the daughter of Vlad who I hear was the big time of Ravage but got his ass handed to him by Muetre,  I hear that Vlad scared Heaven and Hell so I wondered how the old man killed him and how he kicked my ass easily, I was trained by him and overtime I started to understand how to use firearms and other weapons, made by Muetre’s Engineer Gus who never shows his face, he might be fuck ugly but damn the stuff he makes is crazy, I hear her can make things in his sleep

At first I sucked, I sucked badly at my jobs, my first job was in the world of Remnant where I was suppose to find a Demon posing as a Huntsman in their world, bastard was skilled and kept cutting me up but thanks to my rage I barely managed to kill him, this was too crazy for me, when I did a job in Ravage I was attacked by another Silver Maiden but this 1 was actually tough and powerful so bad she nearly killed me by cutting off my head, I thought it was over but I wake 2 weeks after back in my new home with my head fully regenerated, Muetre had been waiting for me to wake up to say that I was fuckin up, so he said he will join me in a job, the job was to kill the 3 Orc Lords Jason, Grayson and Mason

Something in me pulsed, I felt excited, I was gonna murder the bastards who made my life a living Hell, after getting ready we went to the La Vanille Manor, the Master of the place was a half-human and half-demon named Joie Vanille who own many Wolfmen slaves as workers and maids, the prick had 10 Wolfman women dressed as maids around him all bowing at us, he found it weird that I wasn’t walking around in chains, Muetre explained to him that I was a citizen and I was his adopted son, which he found funny, a dog let off his leash, but after negotiating, Vanille had 1 of his maids show me around the barn behind the Manor where the other Slaves are, I waited for Muetre while he was talking with that dick, I then asked where the 3 Orc Lords were and the maid showed me

I saw them all, doing their usual, Jason the eldest of the brothers and the brains, he usually tortures his slaves to the point where they want to die, he breaks them badly, I would know because I’ve seen the shit he’s done, especially to me, Grayson, the middle brother who usually forced the Slaves even if they’re exhausted or tired he’d make them carry on or kill them brutally, the last and youngest 1 of them Mason, the dick who’s been tormenting me the most, being the strongest of them he usually crippled the Slaves, especially those who tried to escape, I can see the scar I gave him when I escaped, I saw Jason do the usual and attempted to rape Slave that tried to escape, I still remember what he said to me during my torture, “The only thing you will know is pain and agony”, I confronted him

While Jason pulled his pants down I called him out asking if he remembers me before I pulled out a little gun Gus put in my watch and fired at him, it wasn’t any ordinary gun, once it goes in you, you’re already dead, but before he died I said to him, “The only thing you will know is pain and death” before he bursted like a bloody balloon, Mason came out and saw me, because the gun was a 1 shot, I ran out, but I wanted to face him head on, we fought each other and he cut my pipe but I used the cut pieces to stab his knees and took his Hooksword and started cutting him up with it while smiling, it was the best moment of my life, finally payback, then I took his gun and shot his head off killing him, panicking that dick Grayson tried to escape with his bike, but I couldn’t fire at him since the gun at poor range but then I saw Graysons torso get shot off clean, I see behind me that Muetre shot him, of course the douche Vanille wasn’t happy with what we did but Muetre clicked his fingers and we disappeared

I finally felt clear and happy, they say revenge won’t make you feel better, but I felt fuckin great, after that I wanted to get better, I wanted to get stronger, so over the years Muetre has had some old friends show me how to fight, use a gun, know how to use weapons, he even tutored me shit you learn in school, taught me how to be charming, well I can be charming, in my own way if you know what I mean, he taught me how to speak and interact with people along with making me learn many languages just in case our client was foreign, I hunted many bastards down and done many jobs, I started making a rep for myself, becoming the Big Bad Wolf

During my time as a teen, my visit to the strip club when Muetre had to do talk with owner was great, I was glad a Demon was gonna attack the place because during Muetre’s meeting with the client I was kept company by many girls of different races, even Faunas, they showed me many great things and because of that I just love hot babes regardless of what race they are, so long as they’re sexy it’s fine by me, I’ll go for 1 that might try to kill me while looking gorgeous, sexy times are the best time for me, along with killing and getting paid

I found the bitch that cut my head off when I was younger, she actually had my old head on her wall, I was still pissed for that fight, so I fought her 1 more time and boy was she surprised when I ended up mutilating her ass, it was so satisfying, especially when her bravado broke, I didn’t hate the Silver Maidens after that, in fact that 1 I fought and went apeshit actually managed to turn back human, Muetre cured her when she had to be contained out of hospitality, in return she chose to become our maid, I kinda felt guilty for what i did to her by cutting her arm off, so I said to her that if she ever needed me I’ll be there to back her up

1 of my missions involved me saving a newborn baby from a sacrificial ritual in Yharnam (yes the Bloodborne world, I have been there too), but this was no ordinary baby, oh no, it was a humanoid squid baby, no-no I’m serious, I’m not bullshitting you, I mean he was kinda cute but annoying as hell, very clingy, he seem to like me so much and he kept wrapping around my head and you can imagine how much of a pain it is to shoot while that’s happening, I had to protect the little bastard, but was it over when I got him back home? No, the client then paid us to babysit the little bastard until he grows up, apparently he is a Deity, a newborn God meant to take charge of Ravage and fix it, but the problem was he only becomes 1 year older every century, so you can imagine how long he’ll be with us...fuck

You guys wonder why I hate my Dad so much right, not only did he abandon me and Mum and got her to dump me, not only did he make the Wolfmens take all the shit, he tries to fuck me over, you know how? He finds me doing a job and then tries to take my body away! The only reason he wanted to have us was he needed a vessel because unlike him, me and my half-brothers and sisters can use our power without the Ethereal Realm, because of that I hated him so much that I wanted to kill him myself and 1 day I will!

But just when you think that’s the only bad shit happening, what happens next, I get Satan interested in me, because he recognizes my Dad’s power in me, he thought that he could use me to take over Heaven, but everyone he has sent to take me has been killed by me and sent back, 1 day I was visited by my Mother who wanted to start over, she said that her insanity made her do wrong things, apparently she had another child and wanted me to join the family, but after everything I was thinking about it and after while I kinda accepted, a dumb move but I did, i told Muetre I’d retire and finish, surprisingly he was calm about it and let me off

Before I went to my Mum’s new place I was ambushed by the Demon Lords who wanted to take me to Satan, but I killed every last 1 off them, however this was actually a distraction as they actually were targeting my Mother and baby Sister’s home, I panicked and tried to get there in time, but they were butchered and killed, even after my Mother dumped me, I still got enraged for what they did to her and my sister, I was told who was responsible, a Vampire named Edward Black, after that I searched for the fucker causing a rampage around Ravage

After months of searching I found his place and wrecked it killing and butchering his army and guards, then we fought each other, he was a tough bastard and actually gave me a hard time but I ended up mortally wounding him, oh so I thought, it turned out when his blood spilled on me, it actually took control of me, he had me shoot myself with my own gun and then sent me to Hell, that dick set a trap on me, I later woke up trapped with the Chains of Judas, I couldn’t use my power or strength, Satan had his bitch Tormentum torture me until I swore to serve the bastard to help him raid Heaven, this carried on for weeks but it felt like years, I was losing my mind and getting crazy while resisting, I was even talking to Wolf in my head to calm me, but that wasn’t enough

I then realized destiny and fate can really fuck you over, that it can mess with you if it don’t like you, eventually I thought, fuck fate and fuck destiny, this is my life, I can do whatever I want my way, Chains that drains my power, fuck it I don’t need to abide by the rules or follow logic, I got so pissed that I broke out of my chains and became a Wolf God, using my new form and power I caused a rampage in the whole of Hell and killing many Demons including that bitch Tormentum, after turning back I wanted payback and hunted Satan within Hell, in the end and I found him and after our intense fight and when he tried to use the Godkiller on me, I managed to beat him and murder the son of a bitch, I took his gun and his Chariot, which turned into a Monster Truck for me and got me out of Hell

Muetre was actually waiting for me outside knowing I’d kill Satan and win in the end, after that I joined him again and started to hunt more and more, years passing by I was known by my rep and killed so many fuckers that I have the 2ND highest body count on Ravage, close to Muetre’s, after some time Kurai got kidnapped by her Uncle and the bastard that set a trap for me, I went to confront myself and save Kurai, I found Black and finally killed him, after that I became known in the other worlds too, this wolf wasn’t going to die anytime soon, badass in the hunt and sexy for the babes, oh yeah, Awooooooo!

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #153

UPDATE 153: All the Pieces are Here

Last time Gamzee had completely fooled Terezi, and by extension, me. Yeah, he’s right now beating her with no remorse at all, and it’s awful to see. Yikes. Also, Jane is now asleep but her body, still under control of the tiara, has latched on Aranea like a tick. So let’s continue from there!

Writing this paragraph before starting. I’m predicting there’ll be a minimum of dialogue, the next fifty pages should have lots and lots of images. It’s bound to pass through real fast, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll go for 100 pages.

All these glitches make everything more ominous, in my opinion. It’s as if the world is going to shatter into pieces in any moment. Chances are that won’t happen, but who knows, maybe the end of Homestuck is the glitches making the universe explode. Thanks for nothing, Lord English, destroyer of paradox space.

Because Jake’s death wasn’t heroic or just, he revives, this time without hope powers. He is also right beside Terezi and Gamzee, just...watching. Gamzee continues hitting as hard as he can, dang. I’m kind of glad the glitches are obscuring the situation a bit. Rose, horrified, shouts for Gamzee to stop.

ROSE: Or, wait.  ROSE: Is this some sort of blackrom thing?  ROSE: I certainly hope not.

What the—Rose! This isn’t the time to be wondering if this is an obscure and weird alien romantic ritual! Stop standing there, go help Terezi! Even if it were a black romance thing, I think no one wouldn’t blame Rose for intervening. Terezi is getting her face smashed against the pavement. Anyone would intervene.

ROSE: I am the actual worst auspistice who ever lived.  ROSE: THE ACTUAL WORST!!!

Damn right you are; you’re just standing there! And Jake isn’t really doing much better, he’s just standing there and watching Terezi being suplexed. I know in real life a lot of people stand around and do nothing when they see someone being attacked or anything, so it isn’t something that came out of left field, but this is still rather frustrating to see. Gamzee slams Terezi so hard against the concrete it breaks, and she’s now hanging over the lava. Augh.

Kanaya and Karkaroni arrive right in that moment, finding Terezi in danger. There’s a rather cool sequence of lava seeping into the Skaia in Jane’s fork, and Jake and Rose finally intervene. Jake does it meekly, just asking Gamzee to kindly stop killing Terezi -- ...fine, Jake, you do that – and Rose takes a more hands-on approach, getting her wand ready. About time, Rose! Tge blast misses and impacts near Jake, making him fly away. Karkaroni had enough, he brandishes the sickle and swears to make a fight. Up on the building, Aranea struggles to pick up Brain Dirk’s katana with her psychic powers – no idea how that didn’t vanish away as well -- and then she arrives.

The Condesce is pissed. Oh, gee, who’d have thought that derailing the session like this would make her angry? Haha! Do you have a plan to counter the Condesce, Aranea? Did you expect her to arrive so soon? Everyone who is in the session seems to have converged in one place, this is getting good!

Aaaaaand because Hussie is like that, right when it gets good, it’s time for the so-called main act of Act 6 Act 6.

Oh, jolly. Well to his credit I’m happy it was now and not in middle of the intense events that are likely to happen. Now that’d have been annoying. Better get this Caliborn thing out of the way before things happen here in Jade’s planet! Besides, I admit I’m a bit curious how much Caliborn has progressed now.

Looks like he’s confident enough to mess with the manga book. Why do I have this strange sense of foreboding...again? I have it all the time when it’s about Caliborn, haha...okay, let’s get done with this. What artistic work do you have to show now, bud? As usual, here’s the warning: there’s a chance I won’t have much to comment about Caliborn’s antics. By now, dear readers, you may be aware I’m not a diehard fan of him. By now I tolerate him, but I’m not exactly reading his sections with excitement. Once again, I’m sorry for that.

Looks like Homosuck is getting into its equivalent of Act 5. There are the trolls. Krabkrab, Honk Friend – ‘friend’?! Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Caliborn? – Cape Douche, Smelly Horse Man, Other Guy, and Bull Horn Wimp. Oh, and all the female trolls, too, with no pejorative name other than ‘tha bitches’. Hah! Saw it coming.

The Beforus trolls are just everyone flipped and with a negative color scheme. Yeah, that’ll do...for the five seconds the trolls mattered. All these pictures go to the trash, because Caliborn has something better to show.

Hah! Okay, you got my attention, Hussie. Man Gaka Extraordinare! I’m amused, this may be worth a read, after all!

IT'S GOD'S GIFT. TO "THE YAOIS". MY RESEARCH TELLS ME.

Do you know that feeling of morbid curiosity one feels when one hears about something awful having happened in a video, and one wants to see how bad is it? Yeah, that’s what I’m feeling. I really like the giant watermark, though. That’s a good one, Hussie.

Well, to Caliborn’s credit, he has improved a lot from his first drawings, and he followed all the instructions about how to draw manga. Never let it be said Caliborn doesn’t motivate himself to improve himself!

This is truly “the yaois”. Manga Dave and Manga Karkat are here. What they do, hm, well, let’s say they’d both be upset to know how they’re depicted here.

IF YOU'RE CONFUSED, BASICALLY THE IDEA IS. YOU PRETEND THEM TO LOOK MORE LIKE GIRLS. TO MAKE IT LESS WEIRD FOR EVERYBODY WHEN THEY DECIDE TO TOUCH EACH OTHER. 

So that’s the key to draw manga. Haha! I know a handful of people from my school that’d have taken serious offense by that! Always with the finger on the pulse, Caliborn, eh?

Oh god, it’s American Comic Book Superheroine anatomy! We’re doomed. But yeah, other than the improved drawings, it doesn’t seem like this section of Caliborn’s intermission won’t differ much from the rest. Same old, same old, in terms of theme. The gals are dying in bloody ways. Yeah.

“Registered by the government as my legal artistic possession” Caliborn, you liar, there’s not even a government anymore.

SHE ACTUALLY THOUGHT SHE WAS GOING TO BE RELEVANT. KEEP DREAMING BITCH!

Right. So Caliborn may still have access to the radio tower? He knows what happened in the ghost bubbles. Well, not that it matters that much right now.

Oh my god, Caliborn has an OC.

...that is not what I expected. Dear reader, imagine that this here is what’s destroying paradox space. Imagine the big bad, Lord English, looks like that. Good thing he doesn’t, eh? Yeah, the skull, the hulking figure, and the billiard eyes does wonders when it’s about making someone threatening.

John arrives in middle of Caliborn’s games with his OC, and isn’t happy at all to see Caliborn. Thought so, what after seeing the kind of playing Caliborn does with those bad drawings of his friends.

HEY ASSHOLE, I'M TALKING TO YOU!

Oh, wow, he’s furious! I admit I underestimated how angry John would be. But yeah, another intense staredown. I’ll just...skip to the end of that sequence of images, thank you.

you're the one who vriska and her pirate pals are all trying to stop! it was you who put all this into motion in some way i don't really understand! which means you're responsible for like a trillion people dying, and universes blowing up, and all my friends getting scattered around and acting like idiots, and my dad being dead!

...huh. Well, that’s certainly...a bold accusation, John, and without anything to back it up, too. If what John said partly influences Caliborn to start doing everything he did once he was Lord English, hah, I wonder how John would react to that. It isn’t too farfetched to have that possibility in mind, I’d say, but if that were true, it’s possible there’ll be a second John to tackle the first one soon.

Turns out Caliborn is saying his monologue loud enough for anyone around to listen! I thought the narration was just text, not that Caliborn was actually saying it. Hah! It’d be kinda endearing if it didn’t come from Caliborn.

And then comes ‘game over. A flash file in Caliborn’s intermission. Um, well, that sounds a tad promising! Flash files are almost always great, I don’t see why this would be any different, Caliborn or not.

I’ll stop for now.

Next update: five updates

[super-heroic-incredible-team]

Crazy Train: Part three

LET THE TRIALS BEGIN!!!

Antella, Warren, and Grogarath are chained and escorted back to the druid city to participate in the ceremony, which is a series of potentially life or death trials for honor and glory to their god whose name I don’t remember because this was months ago. He’s a god of the hunt, and that’s all I know. Usually their most seasoned warriors -- people who’ve trained for this their entire lives -- participate, but because our group dun fucked up super bad, we’re going in. Considering we’re low level and have no experience or training for this kind of thing, we’re screwed. Even worse, we all have to survive every single trial. If we fail even one, Farroway’s going to have a war on its hands.

Warren is a mixture of furious and completely heartbroken, and he hasn’t said a word to Antella or Grogarath for the entire trip. In fact, he hasn’t even so much as glanced at either of them. Regardless of whether they win or lose, he’s lost everything. He can never return to his home, and instead of his many academic achievements, he’ll forever be known for nearly inciting a war. Even his parents will get a lot of shame and disdain heaped on them because of his tarnished name, and their legacy will be forever muddied. Grogarath’s only regret is... Actually, despite being a huge dick and causing literally everything that’s happening, he has no regrets. He’s an asshole. Antella at least feels pretty bad that they’ve pretty irreparably ruined everything Warren’s worked for up to this point. Warren may be a racist prick, but he doesn’t deserve this.

They make it to the trial grounds are are given the courtesy of choosing which of the trials they want to assign each other. There’s three trials: One where they must face down three werecreatures -- A wereboar, a werepanther, and a werewolf -- and take a tooth from each. One where they must cross a field of ice and lava and defeat a monster to claim a magical item. The final trial is dueling the forms of ten fallen champions from the previous years to the death (technically unsummoning since they’re basically already dead) one after the other. Grogarath is all about that ice-lava challenge since he’s a fire dude, and Antella volunteers for the third trial since she’s the fighter, which leaves Warren for the first.

Warren is just completely despondent like “yeah okay sure I guess whatever” and Grogarath gets super annoyed like FFS STOP MOPING AND AT LEAST PRETEND YOU WANT TO LIVE IT’S NOT LIKE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE IS RUINED JUST SUCK IT UP AND MOVE ON OR YOU’RE GOING TO GET US KILLED AND YOUR HOMETOWN THROWN INTO A WAR.

And Warren just fucking 180′s from zero to eleven and tells Grogarath off because this whole mess started because he just couldn’t resist the urge to be spiteful, and he even goes at Antella because she got in on the spite-and-inconvenience-warren game and she couldn’t keep an eye on Grogarath long enough to stop him from assaulting someone. He just goes on and on that they’ve ruined everything and just couldn’t help him at all, then tells them that if they survive this, he’s leaving the group. He’s just so pissed off and wants nothing at all to do with them and he’s just 10000% DONE. Armed with only his staff and whatever knowledge he’s got, he’s escorted into the arena for the first trial.

The first creature they let out is the wereboar. It charges at him right out of the gate, and Warren fails the save. THE FIRST ROLL AND WARREN FAILS. IT’S LIKE HE DOESN’T EVEN WANT TO LIVE. Thankfully, Gloon (That’s the rght way to spell his name, but I’m too lazy to fix it in the other posts) still owes us a miracle for helping him get his followers back to the ocean. It’s a shame to use it on THE FIRST GODDAMN TURN, but he decides to save Warren and gets him out of the way just in time for the boar to smash its skull into the side of the ring, killing it instantly. The god of the Hunt is angry about the interference, but he doesn’t do anything just yet. Warren gets his second wind and decides to fucking try instead of resigning himself to failure. Warren takes the tooth from the boar, and the trial continues.

Next out is the werepanther. Warren knows from his studies in animal behavior that it likely won’t charge at him like the pig did, and it’ll try to hide itself in the shadows and wait for the perfect chance to strike. After a bit of waiting and readying himself, the panther strikes! He’s barely able to dodge it, then uses his staff to club t right in the mouth. He’s not trying to kill it; after all, killing them isn’t the challenge. He just has to get their teeth. His intention was to hit it hard enough to knock out a tooth. Instead, he accidentally critted and caved its entire face in and fucking murdered it. WHOOPSIES. Grogarath is super impressed, and Antella doesn’t know what’s happening because she passed the hell out already because of her fear of blood. Wimpy cowardly nerd Warren is a BEAST.

Lastly comes the werewolf. Warren really doesn’t want to kill this one because he already feels bad about killing the last one. He’s a nerd, not a murderer. He takes a swing at the werewolf and misses, and the werewolf grabs him and throws him into the body of the wereboard from earlier. The boar cushions the blow enough that he doesn’t lose a shit ton of health like he would’ve if he straight up smashed into the wall. As the werewolf approaches, he gets an idea. He takes a bone laying nearby -- They don’t exactly clean the arena floor so there’s skeletons and stuff a plenty just laying around -- and tries to trick the werewolf into playing fetch. I mean, yeah it’s a giant murder machine, but it’s still kind of a dog. By all means, this absolutely should not work, BUT IT DOES!!! HE THROWS THE BONE AND THE WEREWOLF CHASES AFTER IT. While it’s distracted, Warren sneaks up on it and smacks it in the mouth and manages to knock out a tooth.

The trial is complete, and Warren is declared the winner. Antella and Grogarath tell him how impressed they are and congratulate him for his success, but he shuts them down saying he’s still angry at them and going to leave the group if they survive. He refuses Antella’s apology, though Grogarath is just kind like “well fine then fuck you too nerd i never liked you anyways “

Next up is Grogarath for the second challenge. The party and all the spectators relocate to a vast icy field covering a giant lake of lava -- Don’t ask me how the flip that’s possible just suspend your disbelief a little bit more -- and on the other side is a giant icicle with the magic artifact inside. Grogarath has to make his way across the ice without falling into the lava and claim the artifact to win. He initially plans on jumping from one piece of floating ice to the next, but Antella shouts at him not to because his giant orc ass will break the ice on impact and he’ll sink into the lava. She gets in a ton of trouble for helping him, and the officials make it known that if she or Warren do that shit again then Grogarath will be disqualified and they’ll fail.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but Grogarath has a wizard cape that he ties around his wast and wears like a belt. It was a passive-aggressive parting gift from his parents who wanted him to become a fire mage instead of a rogue. Anyways, thinking quickly, he decides to untie the cape from his waist and rip it into strips or fabric, then tie the strips together to make a long rope. He ties one end to one of his throwing daggers and uses the dagger kinda like a hook to stab ice blocks and pull them toward him so he can walk across. He makes it to the glacier with the icicle, and he tries to use a fire blast to melt it. Unfortunately, the icicle is immune to heat, though he notices a keyhole.

Just then, two fire golems emerge from the lava and attack. Unfortunately for them, Grogarath is immune to burn damage, so their attacks barely damage him. In fact, Grogarath fucking 300-STYLE SPARTA KICKS ONE OF THEM BACK INTO THE LAVA LIKE A BOSS. The other one, which he sees has the key on a necklace, gets grabbed by the throat, has the key necklace ripped off, and then gets thrown into the lava. Grogarath uses the magic key to unlock the icicle, and he retrieves the magic artifact.

He is declared victor of the second trial. However, before they can continue onward to the third and final trial back at the arena, a high priestess tells the group that one of them must enter the realm of their god before facing the fallen champions; apparently, he’s so impressed with their performance that he wishes to speak to one of them. The only problem is that in order to enter into his realm, one of them must commit ritual suicide and prove they’re unafraid of death and therefore worthy to be in his presence. Whoever chooses to speak to him will be revived if the meeting goes well. If not, then RIP YOU’RE DEAD FOREVER WHICH MEANS YOU ALL FAIL TRIAL OVER FOR YOU LET THE WAR BEGIN

Without consulting the others, Warren volunteers himself. He’s so furious with Antella and Grogarath that he considers dying to be a welcome vacation from them. He’s led away to an altar to perform the ceremony while Grogarath and Antella can only watch with fear and worry -- Antella for Warren’s safety and well-being, and Grogarath because Warren has THE WORST SPEECH SKILL AND THERE IS A 95% CHANCE HE’LL FUCK UP. Grogarath is doubtful Warren will actually be able to go through with it, though. And he’s partially right. Once Warren is on the altar and has the hunting knife in his hands, he starts losing his nerve. It’s one thing when he was just being edgy, but now that the reality of what he’s supposed to do sets in, he’s having second thoughts. However, if he refuses, then the priestess will consider his refusal of such a high honor a direct insult and will kill him where he stands.

He’s dead either way, but at least if he does the ritual then there’s a chance he’ll be able to come back. With trembling hands, he stabs himself in the stomach. He fucking survives and is now in terrible pain. He finally dies after improperly removing the knife and gutting himself.

>>> Part 4