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tobebugjewce · 3 years ago

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THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.??

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK.

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link; “https://youtu”

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files;

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote;

Technical Support 1978

then,

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless:

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well.

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

#the walten files #twf #notes #horror

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hoeiplier · 5 years ago

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You know how you have the others using Eboy as they please, what about Eboy doing that to Eric? Making him his little toy?

im glad this blog is still THORST for eric uwu its cute,,,also sorry its being uploaded so late i got distracted by discord sfjksjdnfkjsdngk ~mod ghostie (also to avoid confusion, eboy ma/////rk will be using the name ‘Marc’ uwu)

tw // daddy kink

///

The dark bedroom they were in was good enough cover from the other egos running about downstairs. Black on black sheets, dimly lit with red string lights along the roof. Soft muffled music of some sort playing from Marc’s speakers -- it was the least he could do to help set the mood.

Marc could feel the ego under him squirm, each touch he runs up Eric’s heated skin only fuels his cockiness. Groaning as he kisses and bites at the sensitive spots along Eric’s neck, practically feeling on top of the world as the marks he leaves behind make Eric shudder and moan.

“You vanillas are always so fuckin’ needy,” Marc breathlessly laughs. His fingers cold as he hooks them into Eric’s belt loops. Slowly helping the other shuffle out of his jeans and briefs, “it’s cute, I’m barely doing anything and you’re already hard. Do I get you that excited, huh?”

“M-Marc, I...P-Please...” Eric bit his lip, his arm reaching up to hide his teary eyes from the other. He could feel how flushed and hot his face was -- hell, he was sure even in the dark Marc could make out his deep red blush. See his hips bucking up for any contact, squirming about to...just be touched.

Be pinned down and fucked.

Be made into nothing but a toy for the other.

That was, until Marc reached up, pushing his arm away to stare straight into his eyes. His hands moving from his waist to his wrists. Pinning Eric down with ease, such a fragile little thing he is.

“Nope,” he laughs again, “I ain’t doing nothing until you tell Daddy what you want.”

Just like that, just a few words said in that deep commanding tone of Marc’s was enough. A soft pathetic whine breaking from Eric’s lips as he looks up through his skewed glasses. Pure arousal pumping through his body as he bucks up once more. Desperate for touch.

“I...I...w-want...” Eric arches up slowly. Marc’s chain around his neck clanking gently, suddenly over aware of how naked he was compared to Marc. His long sleeved shirt and black briefs still on, Eric...completely naked...

“Say for Daddy,” Marc encourages. God, it was so much fun to tease Eric. From his loud heartbeats to his whines, to his face red with embarrassment, Eric was and will always be his most favorite toy. “Be a good boy for Daddy, tell me what you want Daddy to do to you tonight...”

Another pathetic whine, a thrust of his hips as Marc let get of one wrist, trailing down his body, before gently taking hold of Eric’s smaller cock. Pumping gently, his smirk never leaving as Eric finally cracks.

“I w-want to be...u-used, and...roughed up...and pinned down...do w-whatever you want,just l-let me cum--!”

Soon, Eric is silenced. Marc kissing him deep, releasing his wrist to hold his chin in place. Open mouthed kisses, his tongue exploring Eric’s mouth with eagerness as he continues to slowly jerk him off. Hearing him practically beg to be fucked over was the icing on the cake.

“Good little toy, Daddy’s favorite fucktoy,” Marc breaks the kiss. Panting heavily as he moves back. The bed giving a soft creak with his movements, his eyes dark as he looks over Eric’s nude body. His hand pulling away from his leaking cock. A hungry dark look in his eyes as Eric gives in.

“Let’s get started then...” Marc huffs. Licking his fingers clean of Eric’s precum.

Eric replies with a soft whimper.

///

Their foreplay was a complete contrast to now.

Eric’s left hand holds on tight to the black bed sheets under him, the other holding on to the black pillow behind his head. His glasses cloudy, just barely being able to see Marc above him.

Holding his legs back, keeping him nice and spread wide, fucking into him deep and fast. The chains around his neck clanking together with his efforts, his hips thrusting as fast as he could go. Biting his lip at the tight heat of Eric’s body.

God, was he amazing like this. Yelling out for more, yelling out for faster, his name practically a prayer on his lips as he called out for him over and over. His thighs trembling as he continued to fuck hard into Eric, practically using him as a toy and nothing more.

Each harsh thrust in made Eric cry out more. Pleasure building inside him, his body hot to the touch, his cock throbbing with each movement, dribbling precum along his stomach. All he can do is take it, eyes rolling back, arousal the only thing on his mind as he arches up.

“D-Daddy, more! Please, f-fuck, more!”

“Fuck yeah,” Marc growls, his grip tightening on Eric’s thighs, “Daddy’s good little fucktoy, gonna make you cum on my dick, don’t you like feeling me fuck you so fast,” he thrusts in, deep, hitting Eric’s sweet spot dead on, “and deep?” he thrusts back in, holding Eric tighter as he cries out. Head falling back into the pillow, arching up tight for a better angle.

“F-Feel so good, Daddy, feel so f-fucking good!”

“I bet you do, such a pretty little toy like you needs to be pounded into,” Marc feels the adrenaline kicking in, his eyes half lidded, biting his lip, his hips never stopping their pace as his cock continues to fuck deep into Eric, “Daddy’s gonna make you’re screaming out his name for every-fucking-one to hear like the good little fucktoy I know you are, right, Eric?” he chuckles. God, Eric’s so tight around him, so hot, so fucking loud -- all for him to enjoy.

“Yes! F-Fuck, yes, Daddy--!”

“Jerk yourself off for me, c’mon Eric, be a good boy for Daddy.”

Eric obeys without another second to spare, his hand reaching down to jerk his cock. Stroking himself fast, keeping himself arched up to feel Marc’s cock continue to hit his sweet spot over and over. Nothing filling the room except for their fast paced drawn out moans and begs for one another.

Finally happy, drooling as his mouth hangs open -- feeling his own orgasm soon approaching, to be used as nothing but a good little toy for Marc to use.

///

“God damn it.”

“Hmm? What’s up?” Bim looks up from his phone, taking out an earbud. He and Host decided to use a spare meeting room to relax during a break from their usual meeting with the others.Not sure how much longer they could take Dark and Ed arguing over the ethics of baby selling.

Soon cringing as soon as he heard what Host was hearing. Seeming from above them -- where everyone’s separate rooms were. Loud moans, someone screaming someone’s name, ‘Daddy’ thrown in here and there. Bim’s pretty sure he heard someone yell “good little fucktoy”.

“...Is that the new guy? The erm, emo...edgelord...TikTok guy?”

“He looks over with an unspoken look, saying more about his disgust than words could. Yes, it’s Marc. Yet again deflowering another ego.” Host closes his book.

“Yeesh, wasn’t he just with like, Wilford this morning and Bing at lunch? It’s barely fucking 4 o��clock!”

“Host shudders. Marc has been here 2 days and has already made his way around the office twice. The horrors I have heard while he and the others make love...It’s what the younger generation would say, ‘yikes, sis.’”

“...Host, never say that again.”

#emo fucker #sweet son #The Narrator #the gameshow host

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cardandpixel · 4 years ago

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RocketBook Flip - a rare review and it’s not a game!

Before I go any further, I feel I must point out that I don’t have any financial connection to RocketBook whatsoever – this isn’t a piece that was requested or courted by RocketBook or affiliates and I’m not receiving any reward or sponsorship either in product or direct payment for this article. I just like the damn thing and love it when an innovative piece of tech (in this case quite low key) just works. Hi I’m Paul, and I have a bit of a problem with notebooks – A4 lined, sketch, reporters, Black & Reds (ohhhh the sheer number of B&Rs), goofy ones, serious work ones, battered ones, pristine ‘for best only’ ones – and they all fill at an alarming rate. I make notes on everything. Working as a sound engineer and designer, there’s always mix notes, soundscape plots, ideas, VO notes and scripts, SFX ideas etc etc. At home it’s a very different story – it’s much worse. Game notes; blog notes; hurriedly scribbled quiz questions spurred by watching another episode of Mental Floss’ 500 facts about cheese; RPG notes and story ideas; my own script writing; world building; sketches; other creative ideas; song/music notes and ideas; and that’s before we get to to-do lists; and the dreaded ‘things I must remember’. So my journal life is many, varied and plenty. The usual issue is… ‘what frakking journal did I put that amazing idea in????’, and that’s way before we get to the utter horror that is possibly losing a whole journal or forgetting to bring one home from work. I’m 53, I forget more than I recall, and journals help bring some semblance of order to a massively chaotic and fertile brain. What I’ve needed for a long time is some way of organising all this info or centralising it in some way. Sure I’ve looked at apps – I used Things, Evernote, Notes, and One Note for years, and they are really, really good, but they relied on either having a charged device exactly when I need it (yeah – me too) or net access, which for a new-ish theatre, is surprisingly a bit of an issue at work. And the most important part – I actually enjoy the physical act of handwriting long-hand. I still write actual physical letters to people, it’s adorable and a bit creepy in this age, but I call it charming and leave it at that. Handwriting, for me, allows me time to think and process in a way that typing just doesn’t. Handwriting is slower, I rarely cross anything out, and so I always have the whole of the thought. So what I’ve ideally wanted for years, was a reliable way of organising all my notes and storing them electronically so I have access even without the actual journal, with OCR so they’re editable, and still being a tactile handwritten experience. I’m naturally a sceptic (I actually subscribe to Fortean Times – yeah – I card carry!) and so online ads and particularly FaceAche ads are a field day for critical thinking triggers. I don’t think I’ve ever received from Wish, exactly what I ordered from Wish. And so when an ad from RocketBook constantly kept popping up on my timeline a few weeks ago, I was naturally “it’ll never work” But their website looked legit enough – they had a dedicated UK shop, it was relatively steep to buy in but not so wild that if it didn’t work I wouldn’t be crying too much about the money wasted, and at the end of the day it was a 10th the price of a ReMarkable 2 which is actually what I thought would solve my problem. I’m furloughed at the mo and though I could argue the case for £300+ notebook (test me, I could), I just couldn’t justify it now. And RocketBook had a good summer intro offer. I ordered on the Wednesday, and the impressively glitzy and graphic-design-playbook poly package was dropped on my doorstep just 2 days later by my cheery postie who yelled up the drive “Package for ya, looks very exciting!!!!” I like that our postal service is still invested in the hopes and dreams of their customers. It was exciting. All the instructions for getting started with my new Teal RocketBook A4 Flip were right there before you even open it. The main body houses the pad and a cleaning cloth, and a clever little side pocket houses the supplied Pilot Frixion pen.

RocketBooks come in several models, all configured slightly differently. I have the Flip which is a top spiral-bound softback pad with 21 double sided ‘pages’ giving 42 pages in total. The Flip has lined paper one side, and dot paper on the reverse (great for D&D maps, impromptu tables, mixer channel plots etc)

DELIVERY & FIRST IMPRESSIONS The pads are nicely made, with sturdy covers (available in some really nice colours too) and a solid, thick plastic ring binding. Initially, The RocketBook does feel a bit odd. Its ‘pages’ are actually a synthetic polyester blend and feel quite shiny to the touch. The sort of surface you just instantly feel is not going to be great for ink! Each page is edge-to-edge lined or dotted with a heavy black border. At the bottom is a prominent QR code used for scanning and some very feint icons. These 7 icons are the key to the ease of use of the RocketBook series. But more later.

THE APP

The pads work with a companion app, that is absolutely free and available for Apple & Android. In fact, RB even do downloadable printable pages so you can try the whole system absolutely free before you buy – I didn’t, I just bought one, y’know. The app allows you to set up your destination locations, your preferences and does the actual scanning. Just one quick note, I have the app on both my phone and iPad and had to set-up the app the same for both, there appears to be no way of swapping preference settings between devices, though I can see why this may be intentional.

Currently, the RocketBook allows you to choose from the following locations to send files to: GoogleDrive, box, EverNote, DropBox, slack, OneNote, iCloud, OneDrive as well as simply to an email (or multiple) addresses and iMessage. Impressively, these are not fixed either, so you could choose your 7 destinations to be 7 email addresses of team members. These 7 locations are the icons at the bottom of each page. To select a destination for your file, you just make a mark in that icon box (tick, circle, something unsavoury) and that page will be sent to whichever you select. This makes the system very flexible indeed as not every page is necessarily sent to every destination. You always decide every time you fill a page. Change your mind on a second revision? No problem, add or change icons at any time and re-upload.

There’s a really handy table on the inside front cover for you to note what icon sends what where. This is also wipeable, so can be changed anytime.

I have mine set by default to:

Rocket > main email address (either as PDF, JPG, OCR embedded or as separate txt file)

Diamond > GoogleDrive (you can specify exactly what folder too)

Apple > iMessage

Bell > OneNote

That actually still leaves me 3 spare: shamrock; star; and horseshoe.

The app took me maybe 20mins to set-up, that included decision time for destinations and setting up a few target folders. It also included a few ‘test firings’. I didn’t get everything right first time and a few things didn’t send, but crucially, a tiny bit of digging revealed very simple troubleshooting (including the aforementioned issue with no sync’ing of phone and iPad), and all in I was finding the files in all the right destinations within about 30 mins. The website, FAQs and community are immensely helpful with any other issues as well. I had a tiny issue with OneNote seeming to take ages to sync, but I think that’s an issue with my OneNote settings, everything else was almost instantaneous. You can also handily set the app to auto-send as soon as it scans, or allow for manual review.

CLEAN UP ON AISLE ROCKETPAD The main reason I wanted to look at the RocketBook was the issue of reusability. My journal shenanigans are by no means the biggest ecological disaster on the planet, but if we are to believe Tesco (who probably issue as many receipts at our local Tesco Express in a day as journals I’ve ever used), every little helps. If I could find an ecologically better solution, I should at least take a look. The RocketPads work by partnering with Pilot pens called Frixion. The really clever bit is RB’s paper technology and how it works with the Frixion ink. At present, the pads only work with the Frixion pens – except the RB Colour which works with Crayola’s dry-erase crayons. When you write on the ‘paper’ with a Frixion pen, it remains wet for a few seconds and then dries pretty quickly. There’s no smudging whatsoever in transit, which is pretty cool. From then on, it may as well be permanent, until you have transmitted your page and decide you don’t want the text anymore. To wipe the page clean, you can dampen the supplied cloth and just wipe the surface clean, it’s weird but it works! But then damp cloth in your bag? So I use kitchen roll to dampen, then wipe dry with theirs. Others even have an adorably kitsch spray bottle in their kit. RB reckon if you are not going to use the pad for a few months, to clean the pages as the ink can get trickier to shift after a long time, but for day-to-day use, I’ve tried writing and wiping well over 20x and the page hasn’t become discoloured or tarnished at all. The only pad different in the range is the Wave which cleans by microwaving! Do NOT do this with any of the others, bad things will happen. The ink doesn’t take scrubbing or any time to come up, I clean my pages in about 10-15s. The page can feel a little tacky when it’s damp, but leave a minute or so and the page will be back to normal. RB do say that odd things can happen if the book is left near a heatsource or in a hot car, vis-à-vis, the ink can completely disappear horrifyingly enough. They say that putting the pen or the pad in the freezer for a little while will actually restore the ink, but I’ve not tried it yet so can’t confirm or deny how that goes. Handy for spies in hot countries though, so there’s another target market. If you are always going to send your pages to the same places, then don’t erase the marked icons, and the page is ready for new notes straight away, otherwise, scrub them too.

I CAN’T READ YOUR WRITING – ARE YOU A DOCTOR? Initially, the RB pads send their files as scans of the pages in high contrast monochrome (colour is available) when you snap the page in the app (which auto-frames for you and takes maybe 10s to capture). The formats are either as images or PDF. If that had been it, I would have been quite happy, but the RB pads have another trick up their sleeve. Firstly, they have a function called ‘Smart Titles’ which allows you to name your files directly from the page by writing a filename between double hashtags ie ## this is my scrawl 24/8/20 ## and the file will pop up in your destinations with the filename “this is my scrawl 24/08/20” – this is insanely handy – there’s no protocol except your own and the hashtags, and it makes your files super easy to search. You can even send groups of pages as a single PDF. But the notebooks go even further. They actually offer full searchable OCR which the app can be set to send embedded in the PDF or image, or more usefully, as a companion separate .txt file. Now, my handwriting isn’t the neatest, but it’s not bad so I was prepared for some editing to be necessary, but impressively again, the OCR was about 90-95% accurate. In a page of text it missed maybe 3 or 4 words and even those not badly. This is all considering their full OCR is still only in beta! It gets confused with diagrams on the page, but that’s to be expected.

Text Generated by OCR: ## Blog post och test Aug 2020 ## This is a little demonstration of the OCR capabilities of the Rocket Book pads and app. I've told the lovely people that the hit rate is about 90-95% so please dant let me down here flip pad. Hopefully the file name will also prove another point further up in the section and not make me look like some charlatan or snake-oil salesman.Hope you enjoyed this demonstrahen, now go away and leave me to write the next great novella.Bye!

HOW MUCH? On average, I pay anywhere from £4-8 for a decent A4 notebook/journal, so at £30-37 (dependent on model), the RocketBook pads are not a whim purchase. That said, I get through a lot of journals in a year, and given that I would expect to easily get 2-3 years out of a RocketBook pad, then I’ve saved money. Will it replace all my notebooks? No. You need to be thinking of carrying this round as a kit: pad, Frixion pen (at least 2), and cloth. RB do a series of portfolio sleeves for the pads but it does push the price up a bit still, but for a rep, engineer or salesperson, this still makes sense. They’re less bulky than a normal A4 pad too. What I would say is Tesco and Sainsbury’s currently stock Frixion pens and at much better prices than buying them from RB directly, I just paid £3 for 3 pens on offer at Tesco compared to £10 from RB. You get one pen with the pad, but you’re going to want more soon, so stock up next time you’re shopping for truffle oil crisps. If you use whiteboards a lot, RB also have you covered. Instead of the pad, £16 will get you a 4 pack of ‘beacons’ – little self-adhesive triangles that effectively do the same thing as the QR code in the pad. You don’t have the icon options obviously, but if you’re looking to distribute quick meeting or group notes, this would be a boon. CONCLUSION Considering this was a fairly speculative purchase on my part, my early experiences with the RocketBook Flip have been really impressive. The flexibility, the ability to store every page in a different location if you really wanted to make it fantastic for organising my notes, which can save me hours of finding the right ^^$&^$&$ notebook in the first place, then scouring that for the one paragraph I was looking for etc etc. The searchable text facility, in-app history for re-sending etc and last but no way least, functional handwriting OCR, makes the RocketBook not only novel, but actually useable! Would I buy another? As a second notebook – yes. I look forward to seeing what the actual longevity of the product is once I come off furlough and start cramming my day bag with all my junk and a notepad again, but yes, I’d probably just have one at home, and one for work, but make the last 5 mins of each day, scanning and sending work notes so I have them with me wherever. Impressively, the RocketBook Flip just works and it works well. ‘Er Across The Table has already sold several folk at her work on the idea and she doesn’t even have one herself yet! I love it. It’s taking a little adjusting to, but it’s all good. The most important thing though is the writing experience, and I have to say, the combination of the Frixion pen/ink and the polymer technology of the Flip, again, just works. It’s smooth, doesn’t skip or smudge for me (I know some right to left users and left handers have reported some issues) and feels great to write on. If anything I have to slow down a bit as the contact is so smooth that your writing can get a bit ahead of you! RocketBook have produced a cracker of a product. It might not seem like much, but if practical working journals are your thing (ie not create and keep things) then I can highly recommend the RocketBook series.

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loyalflutist · 5 years ago

Text

History Repeats Itself (Rem x Deuce, slight Machina x Ace)

Rating: Teen and Up Audience Archive Warning: N/A Words: 4,183 Summary: After hundreds of years from the great war in Fodlan, a new era of peace has arrived. However, history repeats itself to an extent when it comes to relationships. Machina and Rem find themselves thrust into Garreg Mach Monastery as transferred students from Suzaku Peristylium in Orience, facing their teachers who they learn are from an all-too-familiar background.

A/N: Eh.... Forgot to upload this up here. Still working on my Edeleth stuff, so for now, enjoy another Rem x Deuce OS! Wanted to pull in the concepts from Fire Emblem: Three Houses and use it with this pairing. Might plan out a longer series with a genuine crossover of these two series.... but I digress.

---

Garreg Mach Monastery is known for its peculiar history. Hundreds of years have passed since the time of the Great War between the three nations in Fodlan. The Adrestian Empire, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and the Leicester Alliance squared off in a vicious conflict that spans roughly five years. Legends of an Ashen Demon and an Adrestian emperor, their actions left marks upon the land. The results? A new era of peace.

However, history is known to repeat itself.

The existence of Crests still exists to this day with discriminations and olden lifestyles rule over the population. Those Who Slither in the Dark are still present, their experimentations and foul play disrupt the country. Civilian unrest rumbles society as political corruption began to unveil itself to the public.

It was never about the pen beating the sword. It was those who wield the sword that decides who would wield the pen.

“Rem? Are you okay?”

Rem Tokimiya blinked. She found Machina Kunagiri staring at her, his concern bubbling right above the surface. The two students were spotted inside the carriage. Having hailed from a respective part of Orience, the Dominion of Rubrum, their travel long and arduous since the early morning, it was no surprise that her childhood friend acts this way. No… Perhaps he asked not about their exhaustive state. She moistened her lip and glanced through the glassed window. Pine trees sprinkled with shades of darkness by the sunset’s orange rays crawled by as the horses continued their throttles. Not far from their destination, the famous monastery stood miles away, its huge structure both inviting and intimidating.

“…I’m okay.”

Dressed in the new school uniform provided by the monastery weeks ahead, the student unconsciously rubbed the back of her hand.

“I’m really okay.”

“Rem…”

Machina extended his hand but stopped halfway. He stiffened his lips. The young boy slowly retracted from Rem and felt an additional weight plop on his shoulders. Machina could not bear to look at his friend’s eyes. Then, under his breath, he whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

After all, he could do nothing but watch the horrors that befell upon her when they were young. The war between the Milites Empire and Dominion of Rubrum wasn’t enough. Those Who Slither in the Dark had strong ties with the Empire’s leaders. How the two managed to interact and align their ideals was a mystery. Not that it mattered to the male student. His jawlines were outlined, Machina gazing through the opposite window.

He witnessed the horrors of their parents dying by the soldiers’ hands. What he did not forget was the horror of watching his friend undergo experimentations to implant a Crest into her body. Cruel experimentation devised to test the hypothesis of a person not only not from nobility, but from another country altogether and their adaptation with the Crests was given the green light by the two communities. Those Who Slither in the Dark wish to rise their power in another country. The Milites Empire hopes to use this to their advantage for the current warring state.

Machina and Rem were two of the many unfortunate souls, and they were the sole survivors of the non-consensual surgeries.

Recounting those days always caused a shudder to run down his spine. He dryly swallowed, his elbow now rested on the carriage’s door, and pressed his chin against his palm. Occasionally, Machina would glance over at Rem. His friend still sat upright, the black magus drumming her fingertips along the uniformed skirt. A cough ripped through her tranquil state. Machina nearly bolted up from his seat as the female covered her mouth, a violent fit shaking her entire figure.

“R-Rem!”

She shook her head in the midst of her hacking. It went away after a few seconds, but not without consequences. Rem leaned back against her seat, breaths fast, the smeared blood present from the corner of her opened lips. Machina immediately took out his navy handkerchief and offered it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Stern tonality trickled in his words with hopes of some honesty from Rem. Rem simply nodded after wiping. He chewed his lip, retrieving the soiled cloth, his stares becoming dagger-like.

“Why are you still—”

He stopped himself. Then, his eyes softened and felt tears welt from them. Machina glanced away with a silent grimace. When he spoke no more, the female softly called out to him.

“Machina?”

No response. Rem didn’t push him to speak. A moment of observation told her plenty about his reactions. She stifled a long exhale and reverted her gaze elsewhere.

‘ He’s beating himself up again… ‘

And there was nothing she could do to stop him. (The last time she did, he unintentionally hurt her in the process.) Machina had crawled back to their past once again. Back to the time when they were held prisoners by the two organizations. Outcries and screams echoed in the back of his skull. The knives that plunged into his friend’s arms without anesthetics, the blood transplants, the forceful insertion of a Crest into her chest cavity… Rem was always the one to save him, and she always did. Even now she’s hiding the side effects from the surgeries to alleviate his guilty conscious. The handkerchief trembled in time within his whitened grip. The rest of their rides were basked in utter silence.

-----

Two hours ticked by and nightfall switched with daylight. Stars shone in the clear sky, the flames from lamps flickered in-sync, and the lack of students notified their abnormal arrival. Despite the lonesome arrival, they were greeted by a Gatekeeper. The young man saluted to the two students, his eyes brimming with excitement.

“Greetings, Rem and Machina! I hope your trip from Orience went well.”

“It was,” Rem clasped both of her hands, her smile shining to the security guard. “It was worth the trip.”

“Excellent. I was afraid the both of you would never come since it has gotten late.”

“Don’t be silly,” Machina motioned. “No matter the time of the day, we’ll come here.”

“Aren’t you both in good spirit,” the older male chuckled. “Now that you’re both here, I’m happy to inform that your assignment to a house has been finalized too by Lady Flayn.”

Machina crossed his arms and faintly hummed.

Garreg Mach Monastery’s Officers Academy was known well for providing resources and a community for students from all three nations in Fodlan. As the two were foreigners, they would be placed by random chance into the three houses. Their alliance would lie in whatever nation they belonged to. Even though Fodlan was known well for its unification, the three countries were still divided based on their ideologies and people. It was literally the same situation as Orience minus the current conflict it undergoes. The only difference is the lack of a unified academy from Orience, the academies all under a nation’s flag.

The Gatekeeper looked at Machina.

“Machina, you have been assigned to the Blue Lions House.”

“Huh… I guess we’re both—”

“Rem, you have been assigned to the Black Eagles House.”

“Wait, what!?”

The male student felt his posture falter. Ever since they were young, they were inseparable. After the incidence with their past traumas, Machina and Rem stuck closer to each other, always as a pair… Though this was more so from the male’s dependency. He straightened his back and coughed audibly into his fist.

“You’re telling me that we’ll be separated?”

“I… I suppose so.”

“But why?!”

“Please, don’t ask me!” the older male wildly pushed his hands outward, beads of sweat flying out of his head. “This is all under the discretion of Lady Flayn!”

“I demand that one of us transfer to the other house!”

“You can try talking to her, but… I don’t think she’ll change her mind.”

“I’ll try!” Machina glanced over at the flabbergasted Rem… though flabbergasted for reasons other than class placement. He huffed. “I will speak to the archbishop. I will be back soon!”

And off he goes… with a cloud of smoke too behind his heels! It was almost comical had it not been for the circumstance that prompted his dash. Both the adult and student stared in awe after Machina. They exchanged looks. Then, a forced grin bore on their faces. Words would never be able to describe their feelings about this.

“I suggest you visit your classroom,” the Gatekeeper said. “Knowing that Lady Flayn wouldn’t make any immediate plans, you might as well familiarize yourself. I also believe the professor is still in the classroom.”

Rem tilted her head. “At this time?”

He nodded.

“Yes… her name is Deuce. She’s a new professor here at the monastery.”

“She is?”

“Indeed. It’s her first time teaching, but I’ve heard many good things from the other professors,” the Gatekeeper cupped his chin. “If I recall… she’s from Orience too like the other professor.”

An imaginary exclamation point popped over Rem’s head.

‘ Someone from Rubrum?! ‘

Learning of this new fact urged the student to visit the lecture hall; a quick thanks and farewell were given before leaving. Of course, a bit of time passed as Rem found herself losing track of her place in the large academy. Vague directions on top of the dark environment hardly posed clarity. (There was an incident with crashing into a wall, but that hardly warrants an explanation.) The student, fortunately, found the premise… with a little help from a white hooting companion.

Rem popped her head into the empty classroom. Well— Somewhat empty. There was a petite brunette standing in front of the lecture hall. The young girl, dressed in a familiar dark uniform from Suzaku Peristylium and vermillion cape, drew a couple of arrows and notes on the blackboard. Light taps and scratches emitted from the chalky utensil with occasional pauses. She didn’t seem to notice the brown-haired newcomer.

‘ She’s wearing the peristylium uniform… ‘ Rem mentally shook her head. ‘ She can’t be the professor he spoke about. She's too young. ‘

Perhaps there were a couple of students that came from Rubrum this academic term. It was worth noting that some students from all four nations had transferred out of the country for various reasons. Most of them were for a political movement. Some were due to familial circumstances. Others were a little more on the enigmatic side. In Rem’s and Machina’s case, they were transferred for a multitude of reasons. Could this be the same for this young girl?

“Hello?” The brunette’s hand froze and glanced over her shoulder. Seeing as how she didn’t move from her position, Rem decided to approach the girl. “I’m looking for the professor. Do you know where she is?”

“That’s me.”

The speaker's tone was so soft, she could have mistaken it for a whisper. Rem blinked.

“I… I didn’t quite catch what you just said.”

“I’m the professor.”

“…”

When greeted with silence, the brunette sighed. She placed the chalk onto the nearby desk and properly looked at the student.

“My name is Deuce. I’m the professor for the Black Eagles House,” the professor finally cracked a smile. “I’ve been expecting you. Though I must say, I’m a little surprised to know there are more students arriving from Rubrum. It might be a small world after all.”

“You’re so young to be a teacher.”

Rem, after much silence, blurted with unintentional disregard for the instructor’s comments. There was a pregnant pause. Eventually, Deuce lightly scratched her flushed cheeks in response, her eyes briefly shifted elsewhere.

“People say that all the time to me.”

“You must be very smart.”

“I don’t think so,” the youngster now giggled and frantically waved her hand. “The archbishop must have seen my talent in music and pitied me… or maybe it’s because I’m not from Fodlan…”

“Um, you studied in Suzaku Peristylium, right?”

“Yes, until last year when I transferred here with some of my classmates.”

Rem clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward. Due to their proximity, Deuce found herself unconsciously examining the girl’s face. Those long eyelashes, those pair of curious eyes that twinkled with optimism, those soft lips— Heat burst into Deuce’s head. It took a great effort to resist the temptation to hide. The teacher placed a hand over her chest, her heart rapidly thumping. Just what is this feeling that tugs at her heartstrings?

‘ Mother never told me about this. Am I sick? ‘

Unlike the brunette, Rem was not oblivious to the source of her reaction. She giggled. How innocent of her teacher. It would be best she holds back the teasing and gets back to their original topic.

“What class were you from?”

It appears that it had snapped Deuce back to reality. The pink tinges lightened as the ex-cadet lowered her hand.

“Class Zero.”

“Class Zero…?! It’s no wonder why you were chosen to be a teacher!”

“Is it? I didn’t know it was that important.”

Rem immediately grabbed ahold of the girl’s arms and gently shook her.

“How could you not know? Class Zero was always known as a legend… No one has ever spoken about being from that class!”

“That’s not what Mother said…”

“Mother?”

“It’s a long story. I might have to tell you about sometime tomorrow.”

Their exchanges were brief as nightfall hardly allowed much time to spare. However, the two girls instantly clicked. Could it be from their shared homeland? Or could it be due to their age? Whatever it was, what Rem could attest to is the comfort she finds in her new professor… even if she is a little younger than expected.

Deuce was left in the classroom to complete her preparation for tomorrow’s lesson. Although Machina came running towards her with tears flowing down his cheeks about the inability to transfer later on that night, Rem secretly thanked Flayn for keeping them in their respective houses. It never hurts to have a breather from her overprotective friend. Besides, after getting to meet Deuce, she wouldn’t want to transfer to another house.

-----

The next day came quicker than ever for Machina and Rem after settling in. It was a whole new setting to experience. Students had flourished the monastery’s grounds. Some of the guards and warriors that patrol the premise seem to be from the same class as Deuce.

“It’s nice to find some folks like us!” Nine playfully slugged Machina’s shoulder. “Ya know, we gotta stick together, yo!”

“Nine, could you please leave the students alone?” Queen adjusted her glasses with a stack of files at hand. “We have to deliver these to Seteth.”

“Oi, why do I have to go with you anyway?”

“I hope you understand we have to report our results to Lady Flayn.”

“Ugh… of course… Well, hope ya’ll have fun with your new class.”

Though they arrived a month into the school year, the students were approachable and welcoming to the newcomers.

It turns out… Deuce might be one of the best professors out there. Young as she may be, her intelligence, coupled with the battle knowledge gained from her time in Orience and Fodlan, made her a valuable faculty. Many students, though older than her, generally find her loving and humble to an extent.

“I thought she would be clueless,” one of the students whispered over to Rem’s direction. “Turns out, she’s not all bark. Kinda scary.”

Scary? Rem didn’t think so. Throughout the days that came to pass, she had not seen the young girl raise her voice at her students. Exceptions were made when they were out on the practical field trips, but they were from protecting her students rather than to belittle them. Still… despite her gentle demeanor, the status of being one of the youngest professors teaching at Garreg Mach Monastery shook the students to their core. Deuce was an abnormality alongside her classmates from Class Zero.

As for Machina… turns out, he’s got a young teacher too by the name of Ace. His professor has a similar background as Deuce, albeit slightly different from the way he handled his classroom. He wasn’t as soft nor much of an introvert as his comrade. Ace was known to be calm and collected, but his emotions ran deeper than his reasoning. This caused Machina and Ace to butt heads at times despite their associations. Still, Machina has a newfound respect for the blonde. Ace was never one to mislead his new student in the right direction.

Days soon turned to weeks, and weeks soon turned to months… Varying seasons flew by at a steady pace. Rem and Machina were able to make new friends. They’ve become acquainted with members from Class Zero. They were able to get closer to their professors. Teatime was exchanged, their past traumas unraveled to the prestigious instructors. Rem could never forget the response she got Deuce after explaining her reason for being in the Officers Academy.

“I was hoping to find a way to live with the Crest inside of my body. I don’t know how much longer I have left to live, but I came here to find out how. It would be better to find a way to stop my coughing fit too.”

“Rem…” the brunette grabbed ahold of her hands, squeezed them, her voice having dipped into a broken whisper. “I promise, I will find a way. I promise from the bottom of my heart.”

The same could be said for Machina and Ace. Ace was surprised to hear that the young male struggled to cope with his PTSD. Someone like Ace and Deuce, who were vigorously trained as child soldiers for Arecia Al-Rashia, never understood the disorder. This was a first for the card wielder.

“I couldn’t protect her!” Machina hollered and weakly shoved Ace. “They should’ve chosen me first! Why!? Why did they choose her!? Why did they spare me!? WHY!?”

“Machina…”

It would be a lie to say Ace didn’t tear up. He had to embrace Machina with hopes of keeping the student from having an irreversible meltdown.

Both teachers were there for their students, especially for Rem and Machina. It felt as though they had strengthened their bonds. The connection they had for one another was as deep as it could get.

For Machina, his bonds grew even stronger with Ace after spending time caring for a baby chocobo with his teacher, their lifestyles slowly formatted to that of parental care for the creature.

“Us? Like parents? You could say that,” Ace said without much thought. “I think Machina would fit the mom role well.”

“Aceeeee—! What are you trying to imply here!?”

Rem finds it amusing to see her childhood friend, who was always so clingy to her, let loose… especially at the cost of his embarrassed features. His red face was a comedic sight to see. Yet from a mile away, one could tell that Machina didn’t mind the implications. Machina did confess during their time at the monastery about his romantic interest towards his young instructor.

What about Rem and Deuce? It was also clear as day that Rem was crushing hard on Deuce… Very hard, in fact. Machina felt bad watching his childhood friend struggle with an oblivious professor like Deuce. Whenever they were out on a date, Deuce had always seen it as if they were friends. Regardless, their relationship became clearer in the following month. It was a bit more dramatic than what the two males had.

“Rem, look out!”

“!”

A flash of white beam was shot at the cadet’s direction. Rem, her bloodied daggers having been pulled out of a bandit’s body, found herself as its target. At least, until Deuce slammed against Rem with her shoulder. The rough shove caused the injured student down onto the ground. An “oof” slipped out of her cracked lips as she slammed face-first onto the wet greenery.

“ARGH!”

Rem snapped her head up, the bruises beginning to form from her cheek, her eyes widen at the unfolding scenario. Deuce’s silver flute had been tossed to the side. The teacher curled into a fetal position, her hands impressing themselves onto her chest. One of the faculty, Queen, rushed to her aid.

“She’s been burnt!”

The self-proclaimed secretary cast Heal as another student tried to flop their professor onto her back. Deuce’s facial features were twisted, the pain all-too prominent. Hearing her whimper surged forth newfound energy into the sickly student. Rem got up onto her two feet. The red daggers were readjusted, the female immediately kicked forward to the assaulter.

It was all a blur. Rem’s vision was completely red. She was not one to fall under the spell of vengeance nor unnecessary violence, but something had snapped in her the moment her professor succumbed to the attack. A battle cry erupted from her throat, the daggers slashing at the enemy in a flurry. What should’ve been a simple mission from Lady Flayn to defend a village from bandits turned into a bloody mess.

Crimson stained her school’s uniform, the magma-red blood splattered onto her exposed skin. The tips of her blade sunk into the tough bandit’s armors. No steel could prevent the magically infused weapon from piercing into its thick layer. Rem tore the weapon away as she lost breath. Then, she fell to her knees, her vision beginning to narrow.

‘ No, no! Not right now! ‘

Rem stabbed her daggers into the soft earth. She lowered her head, her eyes squinted, and blood beginning to drip from her chin. A coughing fit shook her entire achy figure. The Crest was taking a toll on her frail body. It provided her strength on the battlefield, making her a one-man army, but at what cost?

‘ Deuce… Deuce! ‘

The young student struggled back to her feet. She slowly dragged herself towards the fallen bard. Deuce, who acted as support for their battles, was unconscious. Queen shot a glance at the wounded student.

“Deuce is fine if you’re wondering,” she mumbled. “The laser didn’t break through her muscles. Some luck she has…”

Seven from nearby immediately caught the wobbly student. Arm over her shoulders, the tall soldier directed another Class Zero member, Trey, to cast a healing spell onto Rem. Though Rem managed to keep herself awake throughout the rest of the day, Deuce wasn’t that fortunate. The student had mostly healed from her bruises and lacerations in the aftermath. The same could be said for her teacher. However, the professor was in a coma for a week.

“Oh, Deuce…”

Completely dropping the formalities, Rem sat by her side on the seventh day, her hands clasped together into prayer. She watched the same scene happen over and over. Chest rising and falling at even intervals. Occasional twitches from her fingers and brows. The silence that hung in the air between the two girls. Rem lowered her head and wept tearlessly.

“When will you wake up?”

If anything…

“How could I tell you how much I love you?”

As expected, there was no reply.

Time ticked by until the sun began to set. Machina and Ace came by, their visits brief and acting as a reminder to return to the dormitory. Rem had gotten up from her seat. However, compared to the previous times where she would say her farewells and leave the premise, she found herself hovering over the brunette’s face.

“…”

It was the heat of the moment. Rem didn’t think twice about her actions, letting her instincts run freely. She closed her eyes and planted a kiss on her professor’s lips. Those luscious, soft lips were as delicate at Deuce was. Guilt settled into Rem’s stomach once she retracted. Heat overwhelmed her head as she bit the bottom of her lip. Kissing her professor was already overstepping her boundary… How could she do that?! She didn’t even properly proclaim her love to Deuce!

Right when she was about to pull away, Deuce reached up to caress Rem’s cheeks. Then, as if on cue, the brunette returned a kiss of her own.

“!!!”

She couldn’t even call out to her teacher’s name. Rather— She was thunderstruck! Rem opened her mouth and closed it like a fish gasping for water. Deuce, on the other hand, could not resist a weak giggle from her end.

“Why are you acting that way, Rem?”

“I—I… I-I mean! You’re… You’re awake!”

“Rem…”

“I’m so happy! I didn’t know what to do if you haven’t awakened—”

“Rem.”

“Yes?!”

Deuce eventually reached up to pat the flustered girl’s head. With a smile of her own, the professor whispered,

“I love you too.”

Turns out, Deuce finally sorted out her feelings during her comatose period. A week in a dream-like state gave her plenty of time to straighten her thoughts out. As she soothed the crying student, the ex-cadet thought back to the times of history from Fodlan. This situation eerily reminded her of a certain couple found in legends... A flashback of Byleth Eisner and Edelgard von Hresvelg transparently overlapped the two girls. Not all of history was to be repeated, but in this case, the blooming relationship of a teacher and a student from special circumstances began anew.

#final fantasy #final fantasy type-0 #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #os #oneshot #one shot #loyalflutist #rem x deuce #rem tokimiya #deuce #Machina Kunagiri #ace #machina x ace

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ink-flavored · 6 years ago

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11/11/11 Tag Game (Triple Threat)

I was tagged by @bookenders @timetravelingpigeon and @oradall! Thank you!

Questions

What animal would be your familiar?

You can bring any one extinct species back, with the guarantee that it won’t become extinct again. Which animal do you bring back?

Top three favorite animals?

What’s your favorite road trip snack?

What’s one place you never want to visit?

If you had to live in the world of (one of) your WIP(s), how screwed would you be?

What’s the worst name for a character you’ve ever had?

What’s something your 8-year-old self would love about you?

What’s the stupidest thing your OC(s) has ever done?

How important is family to your OC(s)? To you?

What’s the song you want playing in the background every time you walk into a room?

Tagging: @rainy-rose @rrrawrf-writes @aslanwrites @tenacious-scripturient @waterfallwritings @quilloftheclouds @blueinkblot @lilquill @kobalt-ink and anyone else who feels like it!

My 33 answers below!

1. What baseball positions would your OCs be in if they all had to be on a baseball team? What’s the team name? What’s their mascot? What do the uniforms look like? (If you hate baseball or prefer a different sport, substitute said sport for baseball.)

Well, considering Park is literally on a baseball team, I think I’ll answer this one for him. He’s a pitcher for the North Carolina Sabretooth Cats, and if you can’t tell their mascot from that, then I don’t know what to tell you. Their uniform colors are white, gold, and black.

2. How good are your OCs at bowling? How good are you at bowling?

I, personally, suck at bowling. I’ve never been good at it, but I still have fun!

Before Hayden was on crutches, he was the bowling master. It’s harder for him to bowl now that he can’t really balance by himself, or hold a ball at the same time as he holds his crutches.

Park is also really great at bowling, something that Jamie (bad at bowling) will never forgive him for.

If bowling existed for Teconia, she would try her best, but not succeed. Xinya would be almost good. The occasional strike. Yu-Qi would attempt to chuck the bowling ball like a softball because it Made Her Lose.

3. Rewrite this in your style: “I picked up the book and read the back. He took it from me before I could protest. He never lets me have the cool stuff.

I took the book of the shelf and flipped it over to read the back, but I couldn’t get a single word in before he snatched it out of my hands. I pouted – he never lets me have the cool stuff.

4. What do you love about the last book you read?

The last book I read is called Policing the Black Man, a collection of essays edited by Angela J. Davis. I’m telling you this because you should read it. It’s not an easy read, and I’ve had to take several breaks from it because it’s very heavy, but it’s an eye-opening look at how race and law enforcement interact in America. It reinforced a lot of the things I already knew (the police are an institution founded on racism), but it’s teaching me so much more about why that is, and how we can fix it in the future. Highly recommended – especially if you’re white.

5. What are three things you love about your writing?

I really love my descriptions, character interactions, and settings.

6. What’s a word you love the sound of? What’s a word you really don’t like the sound of?

I have an entire list of words that I love, but I’ll pick my top three: Vivaciousness, Gossamer, and Facetious.

My least favorite word is flesh. I hate that word so much.

7. How do you like to begin your stories?

It depends on the story. Usually I like to jump into the action, to give the reader something to latch onto as soon as possible, and to get them to form questions at the same time.

8. What other forms of writing have you tried other than the one you’re working with now? (i.e. playwriting, screenwriting, poetry, interactive, novels, short fiction. etc.) How do you feel about them?

I’ve been writing a game! It’s been a super huge blast, and even though I know neither jack nor shit about coding, the program I’m using makes it very easy to write games without any coding. Use Twine! It’s the best!

Once I graduate (in June!!), I want to finish the game and upload it somewhere so I can get people playing it. Stay tuned for that!

9. What’s your favorite play/musical? Why? What’s your favorite part?

OH NO, I HAVE TO PICK ONE? Okay fine, it’s Chicago. I absolutely adore that musical, mostly because I love jazz. But also because the dark humor, satire, and well-rounded and unique women are top notch. I had the privilege of seeing it on Broadway in 2017, and I cannot recommend it enough.

10. What kind of stories do you like to read? How different are they from what you write?

Honestly, not much different at all. I read a lot of fantasy, sci-fi, and poetry – I write a lot of fantasy, sci-fi, and poetry. The only thing I write, but don’t read, is suspense/horror-ish stuff. Which sounds weird, but I listen to Welcome to Night Vale, which is about as much horror as I can handle.

11. What’s your favorite bit of worldbuilding from a story someone else wrote?

I’m a huge Tolkien nerd, and the whole concept of two trees that give light to the whole world is the best idea.

12. If you had to change the genre of your WIP, what would you change it to?

Oh man, this is a tough one. I think the easiest one would be changing Firesoul from fantasy to steampunk-fantasy, a la Perdido Street Station by China Miéville, but I’m not sure if that counts. The idea of an urban fantasy God-Dragon’s Wife is interesting, too.

13. What’s your favorite writing POV? First person? Third person limited? One or multiple POV’s?

I prefer Third Person Omniscient or Third Person Limited, but I will (very rarely) write in First Person, and even a little Second Person.

14. Have you thought of a title for your WIP? How did you pick it?

All my WIPs have titles, but the one that was hardest was Out of the Park, because it’s way too cliché and I only picked it because I needed something to call the project.

15. How easy is it for you to come up with outfits for your OCs?

Depends on the character. Xinya is the hardest, because all of her outfits have to be super elaborate and have to fit in with her culture, but Hayden? Jeans and a t-shirt. Easy.

16. Who is the oldest OC in your WIP? (Either in-universe or when you made them.)

In-universe, Xinya is the oldest human at thirty-three. Yu-Qi easily surpasses that by like ten thousand years, but she’s an eternal dragon deity, so.

In real life, Teconia is the oldest. Believe it or not, I made her for my first D&D campaign, and then decided I liked her so much I would make a whole story about her.

17. Have you ever written fanfiction (even if it wasn’t posted online?)

Yes! I write a lot of fan fiction, and though most of it hasn’t left my flash drive, I have an AO3 account, with a couple of works-in-progress. Come say hello!

18. What are your OC’s favorite colors? (List as many or as few as you want)

Teconia: bright orange, green, red

Xinya: dark blue, silver, light pink

Hayden: purple, yellow, lime green

Park: grass green, rusty red-brown, gold

19. What is the most significant/important/often-appearing object in your WIP? Or, what is one object that one of your OCs cherishes?

D…dragons. In almost all of them, it’s dragons. Can you tell that I like dragons?

20. What’s that one word that you can never seem to spell correctly?

This isn’t really a spelling thing, but I will never ever remember the difference between affect and effect. I’ve had it explained to me countless times, but I will never get it. I’ll be confused for the rest of my life.

21. Which arc do you like better/think is more interesting: a hero who starts slowly slipping into evil, or a villain who decides to try to be good?

I think both have their perks, but the villain that tries to do good has a special place in my heart because it shows that people can change, which is a dose of positivity that I think we all need right now.

22. Do you have any minor characters that are trying very, very hard to become one of the mains?

You know, I thought Yu-Qi would be happy staying the love interest. But now she wants to be a co-protagonist with Xinya. That’s what I get for making her literally a god.

23. Weirdest thing you’ve been inspired by?

I read a fan fiction once, and I thought, “Psh. I could write that better.”

And now I have The God-Dragon’s Wife.

24. Which character is closest to a self-insert?

In a way, all of my characters have some aspect of me in them, or some kind of trait I wish I had. Teconia has my kindness – the kindness that’s probably too nice. Park has the confidence I wish I had a lot of the time, but also the fear that I’ll never be good enough. I gave Hayden my anxiety (sorry), but also the determination to push through it that I need. Xinya is pleasant in polite company, but behind closed doors she’s a very angry character, which is something that I’ve been dealing with lately.

I guess I just don’t like the term “self-insert,” because all of my characters are me as much as they’re their own characters. They can be both.

25. Favorite season?

I’m assuming you mean my favorite season. It’s summer.

26. Do you eat appetizers when you go out to eat?

Short answer: Yes

Long answer: If they serve mozzarella sticks, you bet your ass I will eat every single one of those fuckers unless someone holds me back. Also, if you try and separate me from gyoza, you will have your arms separated from your body.

27. What is something you’re scared to write about?

Romance. I don’t know why, but I always feel like it comes off very stiff and impersonal when I write it, so I’ve been avoiding it for a long time.

28. Favorite fantasy book series? (I need recommendations ;))

The. Inheritance. Cycle. Ho-lee shit, I have been talking about this series since I was in first grade, and I will never shut up. The first book is Eragon by Christopher Paolini. If you read it (or if anyone reading this has read it before) feel free to drop in and scream at me. I’m always ready.

29. The most you’ve ever written at one time?

I don’t remember, actually! I think it might have been… when I wrote 8k words in a day?

30. When do you like to write?

Whenever I can, but mostly at night. Which is not doing my sleeping schedule any favors, I’ll tell you that.

31. Why is coming up with questions the most difficult part?

Good question. I have no idea.

32. Which character would cry over a marvel movie?

Teconia, for sure.

33. First character you created. Why?

My first character was a girl who had the werewolf-esque ability to turn into a dragon. She was pretty much my ideal self.

#annika talks #ask game #wow this is long #33 is a bigger number that i thought

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cartoonus-maximus · 6 years ago

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“This Our Town of Halloween” - Chapter 1

a “Yugioh DM” fanfic inspired by the lyrics to the song ‘This is Halloween’ from ‘the Nightmare Before Christmas’

also known as the ygo Halloween fic that I want to do every year and never do

I don’t know if I’m going to actually finish this story by Halloween, but I’m gonna really try. But anyway, since I’ve already talked a little about it, here’s an upload of the first chapter to get us started.

summary: Yugi, Ryou, and Marik fall through a Rift into the Hollow World, an alternate world where monsters live. They only have two options - escape from this world and get back home, or make their new home in this world. And, as time passes, both options begin to sound impossible.

rating: T for horror themes and elements

pairings(in future chapters): Puzzleshipping/Blindshipping (Yugi x Atem); Tendershipping (Ryou x Bakura); Bronzeshipping (Marik x Yami Marik); very light one-sided Dungeonshipping (Otogi x Pegasus); maybe others

Chapter 1: Down, Down to Goblin Town

written 7/1/2018

1,153 words

Boys and girls of every age

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

It was a strangely cool evening in October when Halloween finally rolled around. A sharp wind whistled through the trees, blasting three young men square in the face. The palest of the three, an albino with pink eyes and hair just as pale as his skin, cried out in displeasure as he pulled an old sheet more firmly around him.

The blonde Middle Eastern American beside him glanced at his friend with a frown. “Don't handle the cold too well, do you?”

The albino shook his head, but didn't answer. Instead, the young man sitting on the other side of him answered for him, violet eyes peering out from behind shaggy black hair and blonde bangs. “Ryou's body temperature has always been naturally low – he doesn't generate his own heat all that well.”

Marik's frown deepened. He'd only met Yugi and Ryou a few weeks ago. The two had apparently grown up together in Japan before immigrating to the States as teenagers, and he had yet to see them apart from one another. He'd run into them on the streets about a month or so ago, and the three had sought shelter together from the blistering heat. Since then, the pair had stuck with him, sharing with him what provisions they had and accepting his in return.

They were homeless. And if they didn't look out for one another, who would?

Marik had been kicked out of his own home as a teen after arguing with his father over a very particular subject. From what he understood, Yugi and Ryou had been living with Ryou's father and had suffered a similar experience. Now, with an incomplete education and not a dollar to their names, the three males mostly moved from shelter to camp to shelter, trying to find semi-permanent jobs and roofs over their head.

This evening, the three had been in camp with several others, emphasis on had. Since it was Halloween night, a group of dumb college students had come out during the night, looking to party and get themselves drunk away from prying eyes. The party had moved too close for comfort to the camp, so everyone had quickly and quietly grabbed their stuff and moved out. Now, Marik and his two newfound friends were on the move, searching for a new location to set up some sort of temporary shelter to stay in for the night.

The blonde grinned suddenly as he spotted a fence, recognizing immediately what it was. “Guys, look!”

The two Asians followed his gaze, Yugi voicing their concerns. “... A cemetery?”

“Yeah!”

“Won't we get in trouble if we spend the night in a cemetery?”

“Not if we're quiet,” Marik answered, approaching the fence. He gestured for the other two to follow him. “I've slept here before and been fine.”

“I don't know...” Ryou's eyes shifted to the side, suggesting discomfort with the idea. “It doesn't sound--”

He was interrupted by Yugi, who suddenly pointed into the cemetery, his eyes wide. “I think someone else is already in there!”

Confused, Marik turned, following the direction of Yugi's raised finger. Sure enough, three moving figures could be seen in the graveyard. They seemed to be crouched in a circle on the ground, but the blonde couldn't tell what they were doing from this distance.

Yugi's eyes were better. “I think they're digging up a grave!”

Realizing how right his companion was, Marik's eyes widened. “What kind of disrespect--?!” Unable to contain himself, the blonde took a running start, launching himself over the fence and taking off towards the figures. “Hey! Hey, you!”

The figures suddenly jerked their heads up, staring at Marik is surprise. They looked like children, their small frames almost completely covered by Halloween costumes and masks, candy sticking out of their mouths. One of them was so surprised his jaw dropped open, his lollipop slipping out from his lips and hitting the ground with a dull 'clunk.'

“Quick, get in!” one of the figures ordered her two companions. To Marik's horror, the figure pitched herself forward, falling into the open grave. The other two followed suit, leaving not a single trace of their presence except the fallen lolly.

Marik stared at the ground where the kids had just been sitting. The longer he stared, the more baffled by the situation he became. The hole looked like an open grave, but there was no marker beside it or coffin within it, and there was no heap of removed dirt. It almost looked as though a grave-sized hole had simply opened up in the ground.

Yugi and Ryou slowly came up behind Marik, still carrying their meager belongings on their backs. Ryou still had his sheet wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and now Yugi had Marik's discarded backpack in his hand along with his own.

The blonde turned to look at his friends, pointing vaguely at the hole. “It's empty, and... They jumped in. They jumped in and it's empty!”

Their eyes widened in surprise at his words before staring at each other for a moment. Ryou took a step forward, peering down into the hole curiously.

“You're wrong, Marik. It's not empty.” Ryou's voice was eerily calm and betrayed nothing. “There's no bottom to it.”

Yugi and Marik joined Ryou at the edge of the hole, staring down beside him. To their surprise, the hole went deep, down into the ground, seemingly never ending. It really was like a chasm had simply opened up in the earth.

“If there's no bottom to it, where did those kids go?”

“HEY!” A older man's voice interrupted their thoughts. The groundskeeper had spotted them, his flashlight illuminating the area around them. “WHAT'S ALL THIS NOISE?”

The three young men froze in place, terrified of being caught. After a beat, Yugi took a step towards the hole, dropping Marik's backpack. “I'm sorry, guys, but I can't go to jail!”

“Yugi--!” Marik watched in horror as Yugi jumped into the hole, falling down into the earth, vanishing from sight. Ryou screamed, but quickly followed behind his friend. As taken aback as he was by his two friends vanishing, Marik wasn't surprised to see them go together – he had yet to see them separated, after all.

Marik hesitated for a minute, his eyes tracing a horrified path between the open, gaping maw of earth at his feet and the approaching groundskeeper, flashlight aiming directly at his face, almost blinding him. But, then his feet moved, pitching him forward into the hole, following after the only two friends he had in the world. The air whizzed past Marik's ears as he fell into the blackness. The hole was completely and utterly empty, with nothing to break his fall, or even slow him down.

His scream was the only thing that filled the empty space as he fell.

#my writing #the halloween ygo fic #it's almost october so here we go #I'll probably start putting it up on ff.net too #so if you'd rather read it there that's fine

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ajtorres0 · 6 years ago

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Another TCFFP Story Excerpt

Sorry I took 2 days off, my mom’s birthday was over the weekend so I didn’t have much time to add the next story snippet, but I’m back and here you go. Also I know it’s early, there are a few challenge photos I want to upload today and the rest of the month.

Here is my 2nd account that is purely WIP only @a-j-torres0

Chapter 6

Centered at the back of the square, sitting in a decorated booth of white, azure, and gold rests an aging man with strong features though a few wrinkles mar the area around his eyes and mouth. He dons white, silk robes decorated with many gold chains and sapphire gems and a two crowned papal tiara atop his head. His piercing, sky colored eyes stare hungrily at two people bound and on display in the center of the square.

One is a young man with fair skin and black hair and one is a woman with umber brown skin and reddish-brown hair braided uniquely in rows atop her head. Their wrists are bound behind them as they kneel on the ground over a large, wooden chopping block with tears flowing down their faces. The people call the young man a traitor while hurling a barrage of slurs towards the woman, some of which are unfamiliar to Salvia and others she would never repeat.

“Captain, do you have any idea who that man is sitting next to the Papa Regem?”

Salvia turns to Zinnia, her eyes even wider than before. “WAIT! That man is the Papa Regem!?”

I’m afraid so Salvia. He has twisted the teachings his followers obey to coincide with his abhorrent ideas of a ‘perfect’ society. It sickens me! Ultor bellows angrily as Salvia returns her attention to the Papa Regem and the man sitting nervously next to him.

She is startled back, recognizing the man next to the Papa Regem, her King of Cabreo here in Lumen Magnum. “Wait that’s −” Baldric and Zinnia turn to Salvia with curiosity. “Rey* Benigno Dalí Cardona.”

Baldric and Zinnia squint their eyes, not understanding the Cabreoan term. She takes notice of their confusion and with a heavy sigh says, “He’s the ruler of Cabreo, my King.”

Baldric and Zinnia are shocked and turn to look at the regal man sitting uncomfortably next to their Papa Regem. He is a handsome man with thick, dark brown, wavy hair with a trimmed beard and mustache around his lips. A small, gold crown sits atop his oval shaped head with piercing green eyes. His copper skin is only a tad lighter than Salvia’s.

His crimson and gold Cabreoan garb is vastly different than those of Marlela. The sleeves are puffy from shoulder to elbow then tighten around his forearm. The tunic hugs his body while white ruffles stick out from the sleeves and collar.

A gold, decorated kraken symbol hangs from his neck and a long, fluffy, dark crimson cape hangs from his shoulders. His hands clutch the arms of his mahogany throne as he slowly sinks into his chair, his face growing ever more sour.

“We stand here today in witness to an unspeakable and unholy union between this man and this − slave. For their crimes of unsanctified fornication and betrayal of their own kind, they are sentenced to death by BEHEADING!”

The people cheer loudly in joy of the Papa Regem’s words as massive axes rise high over the two executioners heads. The executioners look to the Papa Regem, awaiting the order.

He takes one last look at the two poor souls and the faintest of grins creases his lips. With the wave of his hand the executioners heave their axes down, burying their blades in the prisoners necks, separating head from body. As their heads tumble to the ground blood pours from their necks, and stain the white cobblestones beneath. Their bodies slide off the blocks as they twitch lightly.

King Benigno’s eyes open wide in horror. Baldric can’t imagine what must be going through the man’s mind but it’s clear he finds no amusement in this.

Suddenly he hears the rushing of hooves behind him. He turns and sees Salvia as she turns into a small alleyway nearby. He quickly turns his horse and kicks its sides signaling for it to run. He gives chase after her with Zinnia trailing behind.

Baldric catches up to her and takes hold of her horse’s reigns, forcing it to stop. As he opens his mouth ready to scold Salvia for rushing off, her wide, tearful eyes quickly take him aback as she trembles in her saddle. He releases a gentle sigh and places his right hand on her left shoulder, squeezing it gently for comfort. “Come on, let’s take Rose somewhere safe. Is that all right?”

Well here is the next chapter, I hope you have been enjoying what I have been posting. I wanted to show another gruesome scene from my novella. Well tell me what you think of The Call for Finis: Pride so far, thank you for reading.

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enterinit · 5 years ago

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New Xbox One Games for May 12 to 15

New Xbox One Games for May 12 to 15.

Bullet Beat – May 19

Bullet Beat is a shoot'em up, where everything at the levels is in tune with the music, even shooting. Keep the combo to get stronger! Available in the game: 8 different levels with unique tracks in the dubstep genre and more;Chill Out mode;infinite mode with fortress protection. Warning! This game contains fast flashing images. It may cause discomfort and trigger seizures for people with photosensitive epilepsy. Gamers discretion is advised. Safety first!

A Fold Apart – May 19

In a world of folding paper, there are two sides to every story Lightning Rod Games presents A Fold Apart: an award-winning puzzle game that explores the emotional rollercoaster of a long-distance relationship — in a world of folding paper! After career choices force them along separate paths, a Teacher and Architect vow to make their long-distance relationship work at any cost. Experience both sides of their story as the couple navigates the complexities of (mis)communication and the emotional ups and downs that separation brings. By flipping, folding, and unfolding the paper puzzles in their handcrafted worlds, you can help the couple overcome the emotional barriers of their relationship — but will love endure…? Features: A relatable, true-to-life story of a long-distance relationship.Over fifty handcrafted paper folding puzzles.Beautiful 3D graphics with a tactile, “homemade” paper aesthetic.The ability to choose the couple that best represents you! https://youtu.be/QON2szVp9sg

Golf with Your Friends – May 19

Turn the fairway into a runway and customise your balls in Golf With Your Friends! Pre-Order now to putt your own stylish spin on the game as you tee off with one of 3 new hats or floaties! The Caddy Pack comes with: •Goose floaty •Rowboat floaty •Teacup floaty •Australian ‘slouch’ hat (outback style hat) •Triceratops hat •‘Beanie’ propeller hat Why have friends if not to play Golf… With Your Friends! Nothing is out of bounds as you take on 9 courses filled with fast paced, exciting, simultaneous mini golf for up to 12 players! Key Features: 12 Player Multiplayer! Make sure your skills are up to scratch as you tee off against 11 other golfers in online multiplayer. Themed Courses! 9 courses with unique mechanics and holes, become a pro in the pirate course or aim for an albatross in the ancient theme. Powerups! Drive a wedge between your friends as you trap their ball in honey, freeze it or turn it into a square. Three Game Modes! Tee off in classic mini golf, shoot for the pars in hoops or swap the hole for a goal in hockey Customisations! Turn the fairway into the runway, with unlockable hats, skins and trails for your ball.

Concept Destruction – May 20

Concept Destruction is all about driving miniature cars made of cardboard, and crashing them into each other to earn points by destroying them! Pick from several different modes that suits your playstyle. Pick championship mode if you want to fight your way through mass production or choose survival mode to see how long you can survive a wave of deadly cardboard automobiles! Unlock new cars with points earned by playing. Each car has a unique driving style that could turn the tide of battle! Features: Crash destructible cardboard cars, each with a unique driving stylePick from 4 different modes to bring total deconstructionExperience unique 3D cardboard car designsCustomize how you play!Listen to a heavy metal soundtrack while bashing cars

Maneater – May 22

BECOME THE MANEATER! Experience the ultimate power fantasy as the apex predator of the seas - a terrifying SHARK! Maneater is a single player, open world action RPG (ShaRkPG) where YOU are the shark. Starting as a small shark pup you are tasked with surviving the harsh world while eating your way up the ecosystem. To do this you will explore a large and varied open world encountering diverse enemies - both human and wildlife. Find the right resources and you can grow and evolve far beyond what nature intended, allowing the player to tailor the shark to their play style. This is fortunate, because to get revenge on the cruel fisherman that dismembered you will take evolving into a massive shark, an apex predator of legends. Eat. Explore. Evolve. Unique Story - Play through a full narrative, story-based campaign narrated by Chris Parnell (Saturday Night Live, 30 Rock, Rick and Morty) and set against the backdrop of a reality TV show. Diverse, Compelling Combat – Battle fierce wildlife including other apex predators or fight against various types of human hunters ranging from town drunks all the way up to the Coast Guard. Evolve Into a Legend – Feed on humans and wildlife to grow your shark, and find shark loot to evolve your shark down multiple possible paths. Explore the Gulf - 7 large regions including bayous of the gulf coast, resort beaches, industrial docks, the open ocean and more. Experience a living world with a full day/night cycle.

Monstrum – May 22

Stranded on a derelict cargo ship, you find yourself hunted by one of Monstrum’s terrifying predators as you search for a way out. Death is permanent. Get killed in Monstrum and you'll be starting all over again. As each of them has their own strategy, abilities and weaknesses, you have to use your wits to outsmart your pursuer in the ship’s procedurally generated environment. Can you survive Monstrum? Features: Survive a different environment and monster each time you playUse whatever you can find to outwit the monsters and escape the shipHide, distract and run, but be careful not to fall into the numerous trapsTry to stay alive or you’ll have to start all over again.

The Persistence – May 21

The Persistence challenges you to survive aboard a doomed deep space colony starship in the year 2521. Stranded, malfunctioning and caught in the inexorable pull of a black hole, “The Persistence” is overrun with a crew mutated into horrific & murderous aberrations. It’s down to you, a clone of security officer Zimri Eder, to make your way deeper into the depths of The Persistence to repair the systems and prevent the ship from being torn apart. Gather resources, upgrade abilities and fabricate an arsenal of weapons in this brutal sci-fi horror roguelike. Features: Death is just the beginning. After any fatal encounter with the mutated horde, Zimri’s consciousness is uploaded into a new host body, ready for the next attempt.An ever-changing labyrinth. Each and every expedition into The Persistence will be unique, with a different layout, items and gear to collect & upgrade.Upgrade and augment. Resequence DNA to improve health, toughness and defensive stats or even harvest crew DNA to create cloned bodies of crewmembers to inhabit, each with their own unique abilitiesExplore, evade and gather resources. Scope out, stalk and gain the tactical advantage Explore the decks of the ship and gather resources, weapons and suit customizations.

Saints Row: The Third Remastered – May 22

Saints Row®: The Third™ - Remastered gives you control of the Saints at the height of their power, and you live the life to show for it. This is your City. These are your rules. Remastered with enhanced graphics, Steelport the original city of sin, has never looked so good as it drowns in sex, drugs and guns. Years after taking Stilwater for their own, the Third Street Saints have evolved from street gang to household brand name, with Saints sneakers, Saints energy drinks and Johnny Gat bobblehead dolls all available at a store near you. The Saints are kings of Stilwater, but their celebrity status has not gone unnoticed. The Syndicate, a legendary criminal fraternity with pawns in play all over the globe, has turned its eye on the Saints and demands tribute. Refusing to kneel to the Syndicate, you take the fight to Steelport, a once-proud metropolis reduced to a struggling city of sin under Syndicate control. Take a tank skydiving, call in a satellite-targeted airstrike on a Mexican wrestling gang, and fight against a highly-trained military force by your lonesome in the most outlandish gameplay scenarios ever seen.

SokoBunny – May 22

Lost in the mountains, the working village continues to work for the benefit of the universe. Orders for cargo continue to arrive and local bunnies no longer cope with the tasks. They sent you to the cargo village to help organize all the goods in their place at the warehouse, but you will have to work hard for this. You can choose between 3 levels of difficulty of the warehouse, relax with the locals, swim, jump and of course kick. Take a friend with you to cooperative mode to solve warehouse maze puzzles faster. You only have your powerful paws for cargo kicks and you can do it! Entertainment: In addition to solving the main problem in the labyrinths of the warehouse, you can kick the locals, relax in hammocks, swim, play football and get perks in a local cafe. And you can ride and have fun in cars.

The Taller I Grow – May 22

The Taller I Grow is a puzzle-platformer where you must connect to objects in your environment to become taller and solve puzzles. You play as Bip, a small square that goes on a journey of growth. With 30 levels to complete, this game will test your patience, reflexes, and puzzle solving skills. Read the full article

#Games #XboxOne

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phagechildon · 5 years ago

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That Which is Human - Chapter 2

The first chapter was so short I needed to upload a little more, so here we are~

Read on AO3

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Summary: No one’s mentally prepared as Natsume’s past comes back to haunt him. But he’s not going down without a fight, especially not when his friends and family are more than ready to protect him, even if it’s from his own choices.

Warnings: Torture, blood, child abuse, mentions of child abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, kidnapping, and memory relapse

-----

Of course Natori was questioned by the police. For normal humans, it was very suspicious that he just happened to stumble upon Natsume while running after someone’s dog at the party. Being an actor literally saved him this time. They had actual footage and behind the scene footage that proved to the police that he was somewhere else entirely during the time span of Natsume’s disappearance.

He’d been missing for two and a half days.

“Natori-!” Touko managed out between her sobs as she pulled him into a hug. Her grip was both tight and weak, her whole body trembling. Natori couldn’t help but hug her tightly back, feeling his own tears welling.

“I’m sorry… I wish I had found him earlier,” he managed to stay composed as he spoke, the two slowly separating.

“No, we’re just glad you found him in time,” Shigeru said, his voice breaking a bit as he walked up. “We would’ve never found him…” his glasses glared over, his expression impossible to see. Touko brought a hand up to her lips as she desperately fought the thoughts away.

The door to Natsume’s room opened, making them all silently look up at the doctor and Chief of Police. They both looked to Natori, obviously unsure if it was okay to speak while he was there. This would be the first time any of them heard about Natsume’s condition.

“I’m Doctor Kyosuke, you must be the Fujiwaras,” the doctor said, a very small smile coming to his face. “I’m glad you both made it here so quickly.”

“How is he?” Touko asked as she put her hands together, as if to pray.

“Is it okay to speak to you with him present?” The doctor motioned to Natori. Natsume’s foster parents immediately nodded, not even thinking twice about it. Not only was he one of Natsume’s close friends, but he was also the one that found their son.

“He’s in pretty rough shape. He has heavy bruising all over his body, along with deep cuts and even a laceration along his stomach. There’s obvious strangulation marks along his neck that are slightly covered by bruising from what is safe to assume a rope, and he’s missing a nail and a half on his left hand. One looks clean, which means it was removed purposefully. We had to completely remove the other so it can grow back properly. There’s also several small burn marks on his back from what looks like cigarettes next to old ones.” Touko put a hand around her mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape. “Upon further testing, we found he suffered a mild concussion and fractured two ribs. His wrists are severely bruised and cut up and his shoulders were popped out of their sockets. Given this, he was probably strung up somewhere by his wrists for a long period of time.”

“Thankfully we found no evidence of sexual assault, though his legs are heavily marked up with cuts and bruises. The swelling in his feet has gone down tremendously as well. Since he was found barefoot, they probably kept him like that during his captivity to slow him down if he ever tried to escape.”

No one spoke, the whole hallway became very tense and swirled with negative emotions. The main question that went through their minds was why did someone do this to Natsume?

“He’s stable, but for reasons I can’t explain, he’s in a light coma.”

Everyone’s hearts stopped.

Natsume… was comatose?

“Wh-what do you mean you can’t explain why he’s in a coma?” Touko said, tears trailing down her cheeks. “Why don’t you know?!”

The doctor sighed. “We’re saying he’s in a coma because he hasn’t woken up or even responded to our tests. We can’t find any medical reason for the coma either. His CT and MRI came back fine along with his blood work. The new concussion he suffered was so mild it probably only made him sick and dizzy, definitely not severe enough to cause the coma. Thankfully, because we can’t find any medical reason for the coma, it means he could wake up any moment.”

Natori’s eyes creased in suspicion, glancing over at Hiiragi who stayed by his side, seeming to share his thoughts. Sure there were people who became comatose for almost no reason, but that was extremely rare. Considering they found him in a forest full of youkai, it was possible a youkai was responsible for it. But in order to prove that, he’d have to examine Natsume himself.

The Chief of Police took a step forward this time. “I wanted to question Natsume before coming to you, but now that he’s comatose, our options are limited.” The three of them tensed considerably, Shigeru instinctively wrapped a protective arm around his wife. “We have a strong lead on the case. We believe Teppei Hojo hired someone to kidnap and kill Natsume after learning he agreed to testify against him about the Toshiki Hojo case.”

Touko and Shigeru both gasped in horror, tears of fear and sorrow now trailing past Touko’s pale cheeks.

Natori just stood there, completely horrified and stunned.

Natsume was going to testify against someone in court? Who were they and what the hell did they do to make Natsume feel the need to come forward and make a scene? Typically he hated being apart of anything that made him the center of attention.

“A-are you sure that’s why?” Touko’s shaky voice asked.

“Toshiki Hojo was kidnapped from protective custody on the same day Natsume went missing, meaning there’s a good chance they were taken together. If anyone knows anything about Toshiki, it’s Natsume.” The officer’s eyes glanced back at Natsume’s room where they could see the child still unmoving through the now uncovered window.

Touko’s legs wobbled as she felt weak. Shigeru immediately held her tightly against himself, trying to form words. “I thought he was in jail,” he said, terribly confused. “Do you think he’ll try sending someone after Takashi once he learns he survived?”

“If he gets word that Natsume survived, more than likely,” the chief hated to admit. “He is in jail, but there’s rumors circulating that he has ties with the Yakuza. Which is why we’re taking extra precautions to ensure no word of this leaves the hospital. We’ll have cops stationed here to be sure no one harms him or the two of you.”

So many questions were swirling through the exorcist’s mind right now, all of which he knew would be improper to ask no matter how badly he wanted the answers. He felt even more helpless than he did in the forest.

“Hiiragi,” he whispered so quietly only she could hear him. She didn’t need him to give the order, she already knew what it was. Even if the doctor allowed visitors, it would be improper to go in with the Fujiwaras at first. They needed their own time with Natsume before letting anyone else in.

“I won’t let anyone near him,” she agreed before disappearing.

“You may see him now, just don’t touch him,” the doctor said.

“Do you give Shuuichi Natori permission to visit Takashi Natsume as well? I need the full visiting list before I go.” The chief of police said, to which the two of them immediately nodded.

“Natori is a precious friend to him, I’m sure he can help us bring Takashi back if he hears his voice.” Touko thought for a moment, an idea coming to mind. “Takashi’s never been good at expressing what he wants to us or his friends. We believe he doesn’t want to be a burden to us, but he doesn’t realize he hasn’t and will never be a burden. I think the more voices he hears calling out to him, the faster he’ll come back to us.” She smiled at the thought, gently wiping her tears away. “If there’s no medical reason for the coma, maybe… he thinks he’s still trapped… afraid to be hurt more. He needs to know he’s finally safe.”

The chief of police and doctor both smiled. “That sounds like a good plan.” The doctor said, handing both his clipboard and pen to Touko. “What are the names of the people you give permission to visit him?”

Of course she knew all their names, phone numbers and addresses. She wrote them in her little book and pulled it out to give the information to him. She even had pictures of them together, to which the hospital staff took a copy of to be sure no one tried to pose as one of them.

They couldn’t be too careful, not with the rumors of Teppei Hojo being part of the Yakuza.

“I’m going to call Tanuma and Taki and let them know we found him,” Touko sighed, the exorcists finally noticing the dark bags under her eyes. “I’d hate to hear they’re still looking for him.”

“Good idea,” Shigeru agreed, gently patting her on the shoulder. “Wait until they get here to tell them everything okay? I’ll explain it to them.” His words were heavy. Despite the way his body language hid it, he was exhausted himself.

“Do you mind me asking what’s going on?” Natori asked when Touko was out of earshot, watching the older man take a deep breath, his eyes watching Natsume through the window.

“Last Saturday, at around noon, there was a knock at the door. When I answered, there were two detectives…”

“I’m sorry to bother you this fine evening. My name’s Detective Ooishi Kuraudo and this is my assistant investigator Mamoru Akasaka. We were hoping to speak to Takashi Natsume.” The older detective said as they showed their badges. He was a larger tall male with gray hair and tan suit adorned with a red tie while the other was a tad bit shorter, but way more fit. He had dark black hair with dark gray eyes in this lighting wearing a dark blue suit with a green tie. The old one seemed a little impatient in the eyes while the younger one seemed kind and patient; they seemed to be polar opposites.

“What is this regarding?” Shigeru suspiciously asked. Touko must’ve felt his nervousness because she came around the corner, becoming worried as well.

“One of the relatives he stayed with is under suspicion for child abuse and other accounts of child endangerment. Since Takashi stayed with him for awhile, we want to question him about his experience.”

Touko immediately brought a hand up to her mouth in shock as Shigeru felt his whole body go rigid. They figured Natsume had some trouble with some relatives considering none of them really wanted to take him in, but for investigators to show up wanting to question his experience in hopes of helping another child? It was almost too much.

“Please, come in,” Shigeru gestured, opening the door more. “I’ll speak to Takashi and see if he’s up for it.” He turned to Touko who was still frozen in place. “Can you lead these two gentlemen into the kitchen?”

“O-of course,” she said as they took off their shoes. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be wonderful,” Oishi said as Shigeru ascended the stairs. He wasn’t sure how Takashi would react because he’s never really talked about the time he spent living with other relatives. With how cautious and quiet he was when he first came, and how surprised he was at such small things like a little desert or a simple scarf when it was cold, they weren’t good experiences. Ones they never wanted to bring up in fear of bringing back bad memories.

He went to knock, but stopped upon hearing Takashi laugh.

“Oi, that’s not a toy sensei, give it back.” Natsume pleaded, making Shigeru smile a bit as he went to knock-

“Not unless you give me manjuu,” an older man’s voice replied, making Shigeru freeze. This was the same voice he heard speaking to Natsume from time to time, but whenever he questioned him about it, the other said it was no one. When they were trying to gain custody of Natsume, his relatives always warned them he would talk or yell at things that weren’t there for attention. One of them even went as far as doing a psychological exam on him in an attempt to get him admitted to a hospital.

But how could they not hear someone talking with him? They didn’t even take the time to try to understand him. He had a feeling that even if Takashi agreed to testify against this relative, they would require him to take another psychological exam. Maybe it’d be better not to get him involved after all.

“Takashi?” Shigeru called out before opening the door. Just as he suspected, there was no one else in the room aside from Nyanko Sensei who had some kind of charm in his mouth.

Natsume tilted his head as he looked up at him, obviously seeing his uneasy expression. “Everything okay, Shigeru?”

Realizing he hadn’t spoken yet, he cleared his throat. “We have some visitors downstairs who would like to speak to you. You are more than welcome to decline, we’ll back up whatever decision you make.”

Natsume’s face paled considerably as he cautiously stood. There was a hard expression, one he’s never seen before. Was that anger, Shigeru wondered. Was there someone Takashi knew that he didn’t want any involvement with?

“Who is it?” He cautioned as Touko walked up from behind Shigeru.

“They’re two detectives who are investigating a case about a relative you stayed with before coming here. Apparently he’s had his own child and he’s in custody for several accounts of child abuse and endangerment.”

The anger left their child’s face in an instant, confusion and fear bubbling forth. Just as they suspected, he looked really uncomfortable as those light golden eyes slowly became their usual glass beads.

They knew this transition well. He often closed himself off and seemed as if he was in another place entirely.

“You don’t have to speak with them,” Touko reiterated as she brought a clenched fist up to her chest. “I’m sure the school or one of the child’s friends can answer their questions-”

“It’s okay,” Natsume said, his voice calm and collected, not to mention soft. There was a smile on his face, but it was forced. “If their questions can help someone, I’ll do it.”

“Takashi-”

“I’ll be fine,” he cut her off, smiling even deeper. “Do you know which relative it is?”

They both shook their heads. “They wanted to see your reaction to the name in person even though we told them you might not remember much considering you’ve lived with so many.”

“I’ll try my best, but it’s like you said, I might not remember much,” he admitted as he gently scooped up Nyanko Sensei and followed them out to the kitchen.

“That sounds like Natsume, wanting to help even if it’s not a happy memory,” Natori sighed, running a hand through his bangs unconsciously.

“It certainly does,” Shigeru mumbled, crossing his arms. “He’s always been so quiet and cautious, as if afraid talking too much will make us mad. As much as we hated the thought, we realized it probably had something to do with the other relatives he stayed with. We even gathered the courage to ask him if some of the others hurt him.”

Natori’s eyes widened a bit in shock. “You did? What did he say?” He was pretty sure he knew the answer; it was probably the same thing Natsume told him.

“He gazed off into the distance and gave a hollow smile, seeming as if he wasn’t really with us anymore.”

‘There were a lot of people who were kind at first. No, they were probably all kind people, but having to take care of me probably took a toll on them.’

It was close to what Natsume told him long ago, granted Natsume would never want them to know he was scared of disappointing them.

“Did he talk to the police?”

Shigeru nodded. “We were forced to leave the room, but when we came back in, the detectives said they went through very similar things and wanted him to testify against his relative in court.” Shigeru sighed heavily as he pressed a hand against the window. “We had no clue they would come after him before the trial.” Natori’s eyes widened and his heart stopped in his chest. It was bad enough that someone did this to him, but a relative being the culprit? Sure the story wasn’t too unusual for someone who could see youkai, but for them to try to actively kill him? That was absolutely disgusting.

“Is that bastard behind bars?” Natori cursed, unable to help himself.

“He is, and was. He hired someone else to do the job, which is why the Chief of Police mentioned the Yakuza.” Shigeru let his hand fall as he rest his forehead against the glass this time. “We thought… letting Natsume testify against the man would bring him some closure while being able to help a child who’s suffering just like he had. We… we had no idea this could - would - happen-!” He stopped, feeling a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, like you said yourself, no one knew what that man was capable of.” Shigeru looked up at him, his eyes looking so sullen in the lighting. “I know Natsume well enough to know that even in his state, even after the hell went through, he doesn’t regret being able to help that child. In fact, I know he’ll try to dissuade anyone who says he’s not allowed to testify against his relative because of this.”

Touko walked up, listening with more tears gathering in her eyes.

Natori was right, they both knew that.

“Natsume’s the most selfless, kindest, pure hearted person I’ve ever met. He’s also very strong and determined, and once he has his mind set on something, he does everything within his power to see it through. And it’s all thanks to you two,” he smiled, sniffling himself. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he often wonders if he’ll ever be able to repay you for everything you do for him. It’s because of you that he strives to show kindness even to people who aren’t friendly to him at first.”

Touko couldn’t help it as she let out a single choked breath before smiling warmly. They didn’t get to hear what Natsume thought of them often, and knowing he’s told Natori this meant the absolute world to both of them.

“He really told you that?” Shigeru asked, earning a nod from Natori. “Takashi… he’s always so quiet and shy… I’m glad he’s happy with us.”

“Master,” Natori stiffened hearing Hiiragi behind him. “I sense a powerful curse coming from Natsume, possibly two. It might be why he’s not waking up.” As much as Natori wanted to hiss at the news, he kept himself together. Knowing there was a curse that could be causing the coma made him feel a lot better. At least he knew how to help with that.

Now he just had to find a way to get in the room and try to determine what kind of curse it was so he could exorcise it.

“Maybe you two should head in?” Natori asked, relieved to see the Fujiwara’s both nod.

“You told his friends he’s safe?” Shigeru ask as they turned to the door.

Touko nodded. “Tanuma said they’d head right over.”

“I’ll wait for them out here,” Natori reassured, hoping that by the time the kids got here, he’d be able to go in and examine Natsume himself. ------

It’s cold, so cold… he couldn’t remember anything except his own name, but even his own history was a mystery to him.

Misery… he knew he was in misery, that word and emotion kept bubbling forth from the nothingness that was all around him.

Why was he in misery though? Wasn’t he doing something, something… important…?

‘Takashi…’ a faint soft male voice sniffled.

‘I’m so, so sorry-’ a warm female’s voice cracked this time, their sorrow touching his heart. ‘We’re so sorry, but we’re here now, you’re safe.’

These people, they were important to him. He’d give anything to make them stop crying and smile even if he couldn’t remember who they were right now.

His left hand felt warm, so warm he felt tears well in his eyes and he brought it to his chest and held it there, crying softly.

This warmth.... he remembered this warmth. There was one on his shoulder now too.

He felt this recently, didn’t he…?

He stopped at the closed sliding door that led to the kitchen, unconsciously holding his breath. As much as he wanted to help this child, he felt frozen in fear. What if he couldn't help? What if these people caused problems for the Fujiwaras? What if he lost the Fujiwaras because of this?

A gentle warm hand rest against his own, quickly pulling him from his thoughts. “You don’t have to do this, Takashi,” Touko’s soft voice came as she very gently squeezed his hand. “But it’s awfully brave and courageous of you. Shigeru and I couldn’t be prouder. Even if you decide not to talk to them, we’ll still be proud of you.” Natsume couldn’t help it as he turned to her, surprised. How could they be proud of him if he was too much of a coward to come forward? “She’s right,” Shigeru said as he gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Because you had the courage to come forward and attempt to face your past. That takes a lot of strength.”

They were both smiling happily down at him, the love literally washing over him. Natsume couldn’t help but blush as he nodded.

He could do this. He finally had a place to call home, and people who loved him dearly.

Sliding the door to the kitchen open, he smiled at the detectives and bowed slightly. “I’m Takashi Natsume. I hope I can be of some help.”

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us. I’m Detective Oishi and this is Investigator Akasaka. We’re sorry to drop by out of the blue like this, but we need your help.” Natsume nodded as he sat. Both Shigeru and Touko didn’t sit as they stood apprehensively by the door. They didn’t want to leave Takashi in case the detectives tried to be too invasive, but they also didn’t want him to feel like he had to hold anything back as to not worry them.

“Do you remember living with your relative Teppei Hojo?”

The reaction was instantaneous. For once, Natsume didn’t need to take a moment to remember a name. The fear that coursed through his body by merely mentioning the name drained his face of all color as he glanced over at the Fujiwara’s, not wanting them to know - not wanting them to hear. They didn’t need to know what happened to him in the past - they didn’t need to hear of what happened during his stay with that man.

Both their faces became concerned, making Natsume realize he was already making them worry.

Crap.

“I’m going to assume that’s a yes,” Detective Oishi said as he noted that on his document. The other investigator stood, giving his foster parents a regretful smile.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t have you guys here anymore. We don’t want to risk him holding anything back because of you two.”

The Fujiwaras looked at him with even more worry, making Natsume feel guilty as he squeezed Nyanko Sensei. He should’ve been more prepared, but that name - he couldn’t help it. The memories he once repressed came shooting through him all over again.

Shigeru nodded as he gently squeezed Touko’s shoulder as they both looked over at him. “Takashi, if they make you uncomfortable and you don’t want to continue, call for us. We’ll put an end to this meeting.”

Natsume was actually very grateful for the support as he nodded, watching them go with a lump in his throat. He didn’t want Sensei to hear either, but he needed a safety net to hold onto.

“We have to record this session as evidence, is that okay?” Akasaka softly asked as Oishi got the recorder set up.

“Yes,” Natsume agreed, feeling a nervous bead of sweat slide down the side of his face.

Akasaka sighed as he sat down again, giving Natsume a very soft and reassuring smile. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt or judge you. Everything you tell us today can help us save a kid who’s stuck in the same situation you were in. I just wish there had been someone to help you back then too.”

He was being sincere, both him and Sensei could tell. The tight grip he had around Nyanko slowly loosened as he took a deep breath. Seeing he was ready, they started.

“Do you remember Teppei Hojo?” Oishi asked.

“Yes,” Natsume responded, taking another deep breath as he felt his nerves come back. “He was one of the first people that were forced to take me in once I couldn’t stay at the orphanage anymore.”

“How did he act the first day he took you home?”

Natsume bite his lip, no longer looking them in the eye. It was hard going back there, but he had someplace to call home now, and a family who loved him very much. He didn’t have to fear this man anymore.

“He was acting cold and hateful. He kept mumbling about how he wasn’t going to get enough money from my other relatives to cover both my living costs and the time he’ll lose watching over me while we drove to his house. I remember being really depressed, so I was sulking in the back seat, not even noticing we arrived. I remember... being pulled out of the car’s window by the hair… and him screaming in my face saying I didn’t have the right to be sad, not when he was the one forced to give up his way of living for someone the orphanage didn’t even know what to do with. I said I was sorry, but he ignored me and dragged me by the hair into the house and locked me the bathroom. I... spent the whole night there, huddled in the tub.”

He remembered now… it was so cold and damp, he spent most of the night crying with his back against the dirty tub. The man was talking on the phone, probably to some other relatives as he kept demanding them to come and collect ‘the little fuck.’

“Shit, FUCK!” He’d hear the man curse occasionally, followed by a crash.

This was the first and only time he was ever hurt by someone so bad he literally ran away. The police found him, and for some reason, just gave him to another relative. Nothing was ever done to Teppei Hojo as far as he was aware.

Realizing the others were still quiet, he chanced a glance up, only to regret it. They both looked sad and angry, not to mention regretful. They probably felt bad for him, after all they would’ve had to look up his own history file before coming here.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Akasaka asked gently, though the answer didn’t really matter anymore.

“Back then, I was just grateful to have a place to sleep and food to eat. I was just… used to it-”

‘Thought I deserved it,’ he left out, knowing that would’ve made them try to comfort him. He knew now that he didn’t deserve it, so it didn't matter.

Taking that as an answer, Osihi cleared his throat and moved on. “What were your living conditions like?”

“I had a blanket and slept in the laundry room. It was really hot in there, so I usually just used it as a pillow and slept on the dirty laundry. There was a sink in there to handwash clothes, so I’d use the crates and laundry to build stairs so I could drink.”

“Does that mean he didn’t let you out to get water?” Oishi asked this time, to which Natsume tensed a bit.

“N-no… the door typically wasn’t locked, but it was better to stay in there for as long as I could.” He held Nyanko a little tighter again, not even noticing the other wasn’t complaining.

“Why is that?” Oishi asked, pressing further.

“I.. uhm…” he swallowed thickly. This was it, this is where the abuse really started. “I’d become a target.”

“What would he do to you?”

“Different… things, depending on his mood, or if I pretended to see something that scared me. If he was drunk he’d throw the bottles at me while yelling, not even caring that it cut me. Sometimes he’d hurt me by beating me up on my stomach or legs, places others wouldn't see. If I was caught crying or not paying attention, he’d dunk my head under water for a while. And whenever there was a game on he’d make me bring him his beer, then burn out his cigarettes on my back.” His eyes creased, wondering if Teppei Hojo did those things or not. Some of his relatives were pretty bad and blended… but considering it was him, he wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

“He’d burn the cigarettes out on your back?” Oishi asked, putting the pen down.

Natsume felt his heart drop as he cautiously nodded, knowing where this was going.

“Do you mind if we see?”

This was to save an innocent child… he could do this. “Do you mind… if I show you at the end? I don’t want to lose my nerve,” he honestly admitted, to which made the other two nod.

“Yes, understandable.” Oishi agreed. “Does your doctor have records of the burns?”

“Yes, but I just told them it happened a long time ago, and that I didn’t remember where the burns were from. I honestly repressed my time with him, so I forgot about it until now.” Back then, it didn’t matter. Why stir trouble when he didn’t need to especially when it could get the Fujiwara’s involved?

“Are you saying others did this to you too?”

Crap - he didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole. “Sort of, but they were nothing like him.”

“I see…” Akasaka trailed off, glancing at Oishi, seeming to drop it for now.

“Did he feed you?”

Ah, that’s right, food. “Sometimes. He taught me how to use the microwave so I could heat food up for him, but if it wasn’t good enough, he’d throw it back at me. When that happened, I knew I wasn’t going to eat for at least a day or two. Sometimes he’d say he simply forgot to feed me when I was so hungry I could barely move. If I asked for food, I’d be punished for being a beggar and locked in the laundry room.”

“Did he do some of these things because, as you said earlier, you said you saw things that scared you?” Akasaka asked, making Natsume become stiffer than a board. Of course they’d ask this question. They read his whole file.

“Yes,” he said, his voice quieter, hoping they’d understand that he didn’t want to talk about it.

“We have a police report stating you ran away from home, and when officials found you, you had a dog collar around your neck and part of a chain.”

Hair fell in front of Natsume’s face, remembering that too well. “Yes.”

“Can you tell us why?”

He stayed quiet for a moment, trembling ever so slightly. “There’s a police report for it-”

“And we think it’s bullshit.” Oishi growled, making Natsume look up in surprise. All he saw was anger in the man’s eyes, meaning he was being honest. “We want to know what happened from your perspective.”

What really happened… huh? They were the first people to ask him. The police who took care of his case back then merely blamed him and made his relative a victim before shipping him somewhere else. Of course no one stood up for him or believed him. This was the first time someone actually believed him over the police.

Of course he’d have to cover the whole truth because it involved a rather nasty youkai that followed his relative home one day. Why, Natsume still didn’t know, but he was there, a persisting shadow with two very yellow eyes, giving off an aura that made the man even more short tempered than usual.

Things got worse from there, especially when the youkai tried hurting him. The man, who could see he was obviously struggling against something, just cursed him out and hurt him, even going as far as dunking his head in a tub filled with water a few times to make him stop.

“I don't remember what I did… but I made him really mad. He said he had enough of me and dragged me outside. I guess he used to have a dog because there was an old run down dog house with a metal stake in the ground with a chain around it. He took the chain, attached a dog collar to it, and put it tightly around my own neck. He said if I got too loud or even tried crying for help, he’d cut my tongue off. I didn’t say anything as he went back inside. That was the last time I saw him.”

But it wasn’t the last time he saw the youkai.

“No food or water?”

Natsume shook his head. “It rained the next day, but I knew I had to leave.”

More like the youkai that had been mocking him from inside finally came out, laughing darkly. ‘I’ll eat up and savor your misery, you insignificant human.’

“I tried getting the collar off the night before, but the clasp was too complicated for me to figure out. Instead I used the wet ground to dig the metal stake that held the chain, and ran. I didn’t know the area very well, but I stumbled upon a shrine. That’s where they found me.”

He didn’t need to explain that the youkai attacked him while he was digging, and it was the youkai that inadvertently pulled the stake up.

The two detectives remained silent for a moment as they both looked over the paper in front of Oishi, both nodding as they checked the answers.

“Is there anything else you can remember that he did to you? Anything you’re holding back?”

Natsume shook his head. That’s as much as he remembered for now without risking bleeding into what other relatives did to him.

“I’m sure there is, but I just can’t remember, I’m sorry.” He sighed, being honest.

Akasaka shook his head with a kind smile that made him relax a little bit. “You’ve helped more than enough, no need to be sorry. If anything we’re sorry that law enforcement failed you back then.”

Natsume merely shrugged. Even if the police had been honest, nothing would’ve changed. Whoever he went to next would’ve acted like they cared and showed false sympathy for a little bit before reverting back to their true selves. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before.

“May we have a picture of your back now?”

Natsume nodded as he stood, gently setting Nyanko Sensei on the table who watched the other two in suspicion. Concern was a funny look on him, and if he hadn’t had to relive such a dark time in his childhood, he would’ve teased him for it.

The investigators got up as well while Natsume pulled his hoodie off, letting the others see it.

“They’re faint now, but they’re still there. This will still help,” Akasaka said as he took a photo.

“Are you finished, Takashi?” Shigeru’s voice came from the door as it opened. Natsume turned a little pale as he avoided his gaze.

They had asked about those burns before. He told them he didn’t remember where they were from.

But now they knew - they knew he had lied.

“We are now,” the detectives reassured, letting him pull his shirt back down.

Natsume couldn’t look their way - he didn’t want to see the disappointment and shame in their eyes.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” Oishi said. “In the event they ask you to testify before him, would you be willing? Based off what you’ve told us, you and the kid went through similar things, except he’s his own son. Some of the police are even trying to side with Teppei Hojo, saying the kid’s just crying for attention after his mother’s death.”

Natsume took another deep breath as he clenched his fists. “Yes,” he said, looking at them seriously. “I’ll do what I can to help him.” He wasn’t going to let that poor kid suffer anymore.

“Thank you,” Akasaka said with a relieved smile. “We’ll collect statements about your character from your foster parents, teachers, and doctors in case they try to attack you personally in court. When’s the last time you saw your physician?”

Natsume blushed. “Just two weeks ago. I kind of like hiking too much,” he easily lied, making the other two chuckle a bit.

“That makes things easier for us then. We’ll leave our information on the table,” Oishi said as they both bowed. “As for your statements-” he turned to his foster parents. “If his character is questioned in court, would you be willing to vouch for him?”

“Of course,” they both said reassuringly. “They get to hear what they’re missing out on.” Touko winked over at Natsume, making him blush slightly.

Ah, that’s right. He was taken, and someone needed him.

Crying… he could hear a child crying amidst water gently tapping against stone walls.

‘Help me… someone… anyone...’

‘I’m coming,’ Natsume cried out, clenching his own chest, feeling the warmth from his foster parents surrounding him. ‘Just hold on, I’ll find you…’

#natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #phage writes

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mizalsayf · 8 years ago

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Life in her yet - Chapter 1

~MASTERLIST~

Summary: Cleo made a huge decision when she decided to separate herself from the group she was staying with. After being on her own for a while, she crosses paths with a group that calls themselves ‘the Saviors’. When she meets their charismatic leader and his righthand man, she begins to doubt everything, including herself.

Word count: 2060

A/N: I’ve had this fic in my laptop for months now, but never had the guts to upload it *insert Negan pun here*. But here I am, finally posting it. I hope you enjoy the idea of this fic! And if you do I would be thrilled to read your thoughts and opinions!

This fic was inspired by this song; Life In Her Yet– Rag'N'Bone Man

Warnings: swearing, violence, gore, eventual smut, a little bit angst?

Tagging: @negans-network

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Chapter One:

“Jesus fucking Christ” Cleo mutters while she rushes through the darkening, chilly forest without turning to look if one of those fuckers was following her. She didn’t remember anymore what bloody force led her back to the place she wanted to escape so desperately.

After a few more minutes of running, she decided to slow her pace into a steady jog all the while panting like a dog on a hot summer day. Her ice-blue eyes widened in surprise when she spotted a little, crumbling cottage in the middle of the woods and made her way over to it.

She began to secure the wooden house that lacked a door, window glasses and half of its roof, but decided to seek shelter there for the night anyway. She removed her heavy backpack from her shoulders and hurled it in the only fully intact corner the house seemed to posses.

Plopping down and getting as comfortable as possible on the creaking, hard wooden floor, she laid in a fetal position and let her thoughts overtake her mind.

The past twenty-four hours were playing in her head like an old 1950’s movie.

She was beginning to wonder who made it out alive and who became either walker food or one of the beasts. With some people, she was sure they made it out alive while she didn’t have much faith in others.

Not that she cared much anymore. Ever since she joined them there hasn’t been a single moment where somebody was minding their own business or giving her a bit of much needed privacy. The worst part was, when the nosiest one of the bunch found out she was sleeping with somebody in the group. She began to lecture Cleo on how not healthy that relationship was and that she should be careful around him.

But it is the end of the world and every passionate, rough night could be her last, right?

That was the moment where she considered freeing the prisoner their self named 'leader’ brought back, in order to question him about his group, and leaving with him.

As that day finally came to an end, and she thought things couldn’t get worse. As Cleo was settling down for the night, one of their men died. Ripped open by a walker. In her eyes, he was the only one who seemed to contain a clear head or at least hasn’t gone completely nuts like the rest. That was the night, she was officially done with them. She knew they would not be able to keep her safe, that she was in greater danger with them than alone.

The next day, Cleo packed most of her possessions and informed them she was going to search for some medicine plants or herbs. With that she was a goner. Not even an hour later, a gunshot echoed through half Georgia. She found herself speeding back only to see the barn aflame with giant, black smoke rising to the dusky sky and the biggest herd she’s ever seen surround the farm house.

Her first thought was that there as no way in hell they made it out alive. And out of instinct, she wanted to speed towards the farm to help them escape. But after thinking about it thoroughly, they made it out of the CDC with a grenade. They would be fine without her.

With her thoughts sprinting faster than she did before, Cleo began to shut her eyes and soon fell into the world of sleep.

—

The next morning, she was awoken by the first few rays of sun grazing her porcelain skin. Cleo sat up and stretched her tense, aching limbs. “Damn you, wooden floor.” She mumbled when a yawn made her small body tremble slightly,

Leisurely she opened her backpack and pulled out a bottle of water along with a granola bar she always kept at least three with her. She got up and slung the bag around her shoulders, still munching the food.

She bent over and removed her hair tie from her shoulder length, butterscotch hair. As she combed the knots out of her hair with her fingers and gathered it all up in a ponytail, she swallowed the rest of her 'breakfast’.

Gradually poking her head out of the cottage, Cleo looked around for any possible danger. When none was visible to her, she stepped out onto the damp forest ground that made a snapping noise beneath her feet, while pulling out her compass. The compass was a gem she found when the group was stuck on a highway filled with abandoned cars.

A frosty breeze flew by with some red, orange and yellow leaves dancing along. Cleo shivered slightly, not expecting the air to already be so cold. She turned her head up, towards the crowns of the trees and noticed that they already began to color themselves in different red and brown shades. Autumn was creeping up, which meant it was early September now.

Although, time didn’t matter anymore, she still liked the knowledge of which month she was currently in. It gave her some weird kind of satisfaction.

She turned her gaze back to the compass in her hand and decided then that she was going to head north. She knew it probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering that winter was approaching. But Cleo always trusted her gut feeling and this time it was telling her to head north, so she decided to do just that.

For a moment, she gazed back in the direction she came from and wondered, once again, if they made it out alive. Cleo quickly shook her head, discarding those thoughts, she was on her own now. She only had herself to worry about.

—

As she followed her compass, she settled her resolve on finding a road first. That way she’ll have an even better guide and the possibility of finding find some stores would also improve.

Cleo headed, what she hoped, towards a road while her thoughts once again headed back to the farm. On one hand, she was sure that she made the right decision, for once being selfish and her need to survive were stronger than her want for company or anybody that cares for her. She was fully capable to do that alone. But on the other hand, she felt guilty to just leave them behind without giving them a proper explanation or reason.

'Yeah right, they probably already forgot about you!’ a voice in the back of her mind screamed. “Shut up.” She growled back through gritted teeth.

Focused on the argument the young woman held with her inner asshole, she didn’t notice that she was marching straight towards a road with a deserted car on its side.

When she did notice it, she stumbled straight to the car and tried to open it. It opened without a big fight. “Great, people have been here before me.” She sighed exasperated but searched through it anyway, she always found something useful in things people thought were complete shit.

She found some canned food along with a bottle of water, a notebook, a pen and some diapers and other infant stuff. Her big, blue eyes narrowed in confusion and she began to wonder if the baby still was on this earth or already served as walker dinner.

She bumped her head on the roof of the car when a muffled scratching noise came from the back. Scrambling out and rubbing her head, where she was sure a bump would grow, she headed in front of the luggage space.

She drew her pistol from its holster, that was secured around her hips, and opened the trunk. It opened slowly, like in those horror movies where they were creating tension before a jump scare happened.

What was revealed to her, was worse than she expected. Cleo covered her mouth to prevent herself from vomiting with the god-awful smell that greeted her.

Two pairs of arms were reaching out for her but couldn’t move anywhere near her. A, what seemed to have been, young woman and a young man were laying there in a fetal position both looking at her with their milky, dead eyes. Their teeth were clattering repeatedly and they made those bone chilling moaning noises. She put the gun back in its leather holster and instead, drew her knife out of its sheet on her belt and stealthily walked towards them.

Stabbing the both of them in the head, Cleo began to pant heavily and closed her eyes when she killed the last of them. It still shook her to the core when she had to kill those things, even more now when she thought about the decision they made and the faith they had faced.

She looked back upon them and wondered why they had all that baby stuff in the car. As realization dawned on her, the knife dropped from her firm grip and clattered to the pavement.

It was her.

When she saw that the dead woman’s stomach was moving a tiny bit, her eyes began to heat up and her vision turned blurry. Slowly, she picked up her knife from the cold pavement, her gaze was never leaving the dead bodies. She knew that she had to drive her knife into her belly as soon as she saw it move. With tears trailing down her puffy cheeks Cleo gave a silent apology. She didn’t know to who exactly just to somebody maybe even herself. For a short moment, she hesitated.

Before everything went downhill she was supposed to save lives, not end them.

Everything around her seemed to stand still, when she overcame the hesitation. The only thing that could be heard were her silent cries, the sound of her hunting knife penetrating the woman’s stomach and a raspy, very quiet breath.

Cleo pulled the knife out immediately and took several steps backwards. She turned her head to her hands that were dirty with a blood-dirt mixture only now fully realizing what she just did. Turning her gaze skywards, the first audible sob escaped her chapped lips and she just let her feelings get the best of her.

After her feeling-outlet, as she liked to describe it, she numbly closed all the doors she left open and continued to make her way northwards.

—

After a while of just walking, Cleo once again let her thoughts overtake her mind. She couldn’t help the guilty feeling that was crawling back into her mind and stomach. Not only the small family she just ended, she felt more like she helped them find their peace. She felt sorry that their lives had to end so brutally and the little one never got to see the light of day. Although with how things are now, it was probably better for the child not to live through this.

But with each passing second, she had to herself to really think about her actions and words. She began to feel guiltier and guiltier about the people she left on the farm. Now, she was no angel and she voiced a few mean things to one or the other. Although most of the time she was just being honest with them, and the truth hurts sometimes.

In that moment though, Cleo had the silence she always longed for ever since she joined the group. Even when that silence gave her way too much time to overthink every little detail. But it felt good to just get these thoughts and emotions out of her head.

She finally had the privacy to really think about what she wanted. Giving up was something that she considered when the apocalypse started up until the point where she found the CDC and met Doctor Edwin Jenner. Meeting him, gave her hope. He was at his lowest when his wife, Candace, was infected and she donated her body so he could continue research. She made a choice, Edwin made a choice and so did everybody else.

But to Cleo it didn’t seem like she really had a choice anymore, she already did so many things that spoke against her own personal morals. But she had to do it in order to survive, to protect herself and those she loved. Not that there really was anybody anymore.

And for the first time in months she was determined to survive this, whatever this was. Even if it meant being alone. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

—-

#jdm #jdm fanfiction #negan x oc #negan x ofc #negan #twd negan #negan's thirst squad #negan fanfic #negan fanfiction #negans-network #twd #twd fanfiction #life in her yet

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ratthewrodent · 5 years ago

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“The reason why the manor is so controversial is because nobody is saying what’s actually happening in here and that’s out of respect for the manor and myself and what we’re trying to produce here. If the people who go through the haunt want to spill all the beans and say everything that happens, they certainly could but they don’t and that makes the haters crazy because they don’t know what’s happening. That’s why you hear all the insane rumors because they’re just making things up in their mind of what is happening.” - Russ McKameyWhat is McKamey Manor?McKamey Manor, founded by Russ McKamey, is known as the most extreme “haunted attraction” in the United States. However, what separates this attraction from the rest is the fact that there are no zombies or ghosts. Rather, there are actors who are legally allowed to bind you, gag you, and push you to your mental and physical limitations. Of course, the experience isn’t for the average person. To even get the chance to experience the Manor, you would be required to be at least 21 years of age (or 18 with parent’s permission), pass a physical exam, a background check, and a drug test. The tour, which operates year-round and can last up to 10 hours, offers participants the chance to earn $20,000 upon full completion. According to McKamey, not a single participant has ever successfully endured the full 10 hours.McKamey Manor, which originated in San Diego, California, permits just a handful of patrons to enter each weekend. There is no entrance fee, though McKamey asks that participants donate a bag of dog food upon their arrival. Besides meeting the necessary qualifications, McKamey requires that his participants refrain from swearing and physically engaging with the actors. Violation of these rules would be grounds for subsequently ending the tour.McKamey Manor, now based in Summertown, Tennessee, and Huntsville, Alabama, bills itself as “an audience participation event in which YOU will live your own horror movie.” However, others describe it as a “torture chamber.” McKamey Manor has received criticism from the public, the “haunt” industry, and even some participants. Critics have branded McKamey a “psychopath” who found a “legal loophole” to fulfill his sadistic tendencies.Frequently asked questions range from “Is this legal?” to “Is this a hoax?” McKamey assures the public that not only is the attraction 100% within its legal rights of operating, it is also not a hoax.WaiverIf all goes to plan, prospective participants are required to sign a 40-page waiver prior to the tour. The waiver asks that the participant understands and agrees to:“19. Participant was warned numerous times about the intensity of MM and by the Owners and other members of the crew that YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THIS.”“20. Participant agrees and understands that your life in reality is not in danger and this is just a game.””21. Participant agrees and understands that during the Tour and Participant is in the van, they will not be secured by a seatbelt or other safety device.”“22. Participant understands and agrees that they are not being tortured and this is just a game.”“23. Participant understands and agrees that they are not being beat up, kicked, slugged, or actually physically harmed. You will be roughed up but no one is there to hurt you. Knowing that, MM is very rough and not for the meek. Participant will have bumps, bruises, possible black eyes, swelling of the face, etc.”“24. Participant understands and agrees that they are never being held against their will.”The waiver continues to stress that the experience is just “a game” several times. By number 28, the waiver starts to detail what the participant may be subjected to:“28. Participant fully understands that by signing this waiver that they are giving MM permission to keep nothing off the table (except sexual or inappropriate situations). Everything else imaginable can and will happen inside of MM. You are aware of this and are giving full permission for any action that may happen inside of MM.”“29. Participant agrees to and has full knowledge that if selected to visit the barber, Participant may leave MM completely bald, including eyebrows.”“30. Participant agrees and knowledges that mousetraps are used within the Tour which may result in bruising, cutting, or breakage of fingers.”“31. Participant agrees that if selected, they could be buried alive under 12 feet of dirt and rock to which they will have a limited amount of air and that they will have to figure out how to escape and they could possibly breathe in a significant amount of dust, dirt, or foreign objects that may cause death if Participant does not breathe properly or hold their breath at the right time.”“32. Participant agrees to partake, if selected to participate, in a height stunt that involves walking a plank 25 feet above ground without a safety net.”“33. Participant agrees that if selected they will come in contact with a variety of live poisonous animals. It is the Participant’s responsibility to not panic or agitate the animals. If Participant is bitten, it is because the Participant made a sudden movement within a confined secured environment.”The waiver continues for several more pages, the intensity increasing with each page.Consenting Participants or Victims?One San Diego participant, Amy Milligan, says that experience was more than “just a game.” According to Milligan, she suffered several injuries beyond “cuts and bruises.” Milligan was waterboarded during her tour. Milligan claims that, while exclaiming she could not breathe, actors laughed while they continued to waterboard her.“My hair is wrapping around my neck and I start freaking out. I’m telling them I can't breathe and they’re just laughing and doing it more.”Despite the “traumatic” experience, Mulligan spoke highly of the tour during her exit interview, going as far as adding that she did not feel like she had been “tortured” and treated it “as a game.”However, Mulligan claims that the only reason she left a positive review was to ensure that McKamey would upload the footage of her tour to YouTube. Mulligan had intended to use the footage as evidence of her excessive abuse. However, Mulligan found herself disappointed when she watched the video. According to Mulligan, the most distressing portion of her tour had been edited out of the footage.In an interview, Mulligan says that she begged to go home but was forced to continue to tour. “I’m like ‘I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I need to go home let me out, let me out,’ and they’re like ‘you’re not done.’” Mulligan adds, “[They] shoved my head back in the water and I was like, ‘They’re not going to let me out. I’m going to die in here.’”Another San Diego participant, Laura Hertz Brotherton, shares a story similar to that of Mulligan’s. Like Mulligan, Brotherton left the tour with more than just cuts and bruises. Prior to Brotherton’s scheduled tour, McKamey sent Brotherton tasks that she would have to complete in order to prove her loyalty to McKamey. Brotherton was required to purchase an adult onesie that she would wear on her tour and videotape her visit to a nearby Halloween store. Brotherton described her initial interactions with McKamey as “fun,” and was looking forward to the day of her tour. McKamey instructed that Brotherton upload her assignments to Facebook. While navigating McKamey Manor’s Facebook page, Brotherton became romantically involved with another fan on the other side of the country, despite the fact that they were both in, albeit estranged, relationships. To Brotherton’s surprise, her affair had struck a nerve with McKamey. So much so that upon Brotherton’s arrival to the Manor on October 23, 2016, McKamey publicly exposed Brotherton, who was in the company of her boyfriend. While Brotherton’s boyfriend was aware of the affair, her online partner’s wife was not aware.According to Brotherton, McKamey was cold to her for the remainder of the tour. Despite that Brotherton had just been humiliated, she was determined to power through. Brotherton had traveled to San Diego from Colorado and felt that it was too late to turn back. According to Brotherton, her experience was more extreme in comparison to others. Brotherton believes that McKamey was particularly harder on her. Brotherton believes that McKamey’s knowledge of her affair factored into the excessive abuse, noting that he appeared to be “personally offended” by it. Speaking of her experience, Brotherton says,“I was waterboarded, I was tased, I was whipped. I still have scars of everything they did to me. I was repeatedly hit in my face, over and over and over again. Like, open-handed, as hard as a man could hit a woman in her face…” More graphically, Brotherton adds that she was blindfolded with duct tape and submerged underwater by her ankles. According to Brotherton, she was submerged underwater for so long that her body started involuntarily thrashing. Brotherton was later forced to dig a hole in dirt with nothing other than her bare hands. Brotherton was then forced to lie in the fresh hole while they covered her and her face with dirt, giving her only a straw to breathe through. “[The dirt] started to go into my throat, and I started to swallow it. I’m coughing and I keep saying ‘I need water,’ and they would just splash water in my face. That went on for, I want to say, 20 to 30 minutes.”Brotherton repeated the safe word for several minutes before the actors finally relented. Like Mulligan, Brotherton had to record an exit video. In the video, Brotherton also spoke positively about her experience. Though according to Brotherton, it was because she was “forced” to.“Before Russ turned the camera on he said to me, if I do not say good things about McKamey Manor and I start telling what actually happened, he’s going to sue me for $50,000. I signed a waiver saying this could happen. So Russ forced me into saying all these great things, like, ‘Oh my God, my tour was so amazing, it was exhilarating,’ blah, blah, blah.”After her experience, Brotherton went to the hospital but refused to tell the hospital staff who or what caused her injuries. As a result, the hospital staff called the police. Brotherton, however, was discharged and left before the police arrived. Brotherton says that she later worked up the courage to report the incident to the police, but was told that she didn’t have a criminal case because of the waiver she signed. Brotherton took photographs to document her injures. According to journalist Megan Seling, who interviewed Brotherton for her article, Tennessee's McKamey Manor: Torture on Demand, the nature of Brotherton’s injuries included:“In one photo, Brotherton is in a neck brace and a hospital gown and her face is markedly swollen. She has scrapes on her cheeks and a lump on her forehead, her lips are red and puffy, and there are small cuts at the corner of her mouth.In another image, you can see a large, bloody wound on Brotherton’s left knee. She says that’s an old surgery scar that opened up after McKamey’s actors cut off her knee pads and made her crawl on the ground. Her legs are covered in scratches, and there’s a large purple bruise on top of her left foot. There are also two pictures of her torso, showing large purple bruises that stretch across her hip and stomach. She says X-rays showed a hairline fracture in her foot, and the inside of her mouth was so scratched up from the hitting and “fish-hooking” (“Where they take their two fingers and they put them inside your mouth and they stretch your mouth open”) that the hospital sent her home with medical mouthwash, which she had to use every two hours for three days.”According to Seling, McKamey didn’t deny Brotherton’s claims, though he did shed doubt on the fracture in her foot. McKamey also admitted to exposing her affair but claimed that it didn’t affect her tour in terms of increasing severity. Rather, according to McKamey, “Any personal information we have, we’ll use it against you in the tour.”Towards the end of the article, Seling states, “Here’s the thing: There is no $20,000. There’s no caiman named Ralphie, there’s no quicksand-like mud that will swallow you whole, and McKamey will certainly never slather your body in flame-retardant gel and lock you in an incinerator somewhere in Huntsville, Ala. None of that is real.”McKamey himself commented on the article, suggesting that Seling reported her opinions rather than facts. The comment read,“Russ here, I'm posting this FB post here because I think it's worth mentioning. There really is only one part of your story that I have an issue with. Sure the way you went on and on about Laura B. without having the real facts was to be expected. Clearly if things happened the way you suggested in the piece...I would be in jail. I can assure you, Laura's tour was no tougher then other "Chamber" tours in San Diego. If you would have spoken to other contestants who have taken multiple tours (up to 5), including the same tour that Laura took...you would have received a balanced take on the San Diego shows. I offered you their names, but you decided to go with the most salacious participant. The person who has been banned by all other extreme attractions. Why...because she causes trouble and she does not speak the truth. The bottom line Megan Seling is this. Why did you feel it was important to get one final (unsubstantiated), dig in at myself and the Manor. Would you top off a story about a magician or illusionist with a statement about what is real or nor real? But for some reason you felt it necessary to do so covering the MM story. It may have been understandable to include your final paragraph if for some reason you really felt inclined to complain because I wasn't giving away my secrets, but you did so much more then that. You left your readers with the impression that what you were saying was fact. And that's were I have a big issue with what you presented to your audience. You deceived your readers by presenting your "opinion" as a factual statement. You even admitted to other FB readers that you you knew what you did was going to upset me, but you went full steam ahead nonetheless. In hindsight, that's probably the effect you were looking for. As you and I both know, I called it from the first phone call and several hours working with you on your story, how you would eventually spin the article. And as usual in these cases deal with the media...I was correct. But let's get back to the actual statement you presented to your audience as fact...not opinion. You wrote the following: "Here’s the thing: There is no $20,000. There’s no caiman named Ralphie, there’s no quicksand-like mud that will swallow you whole, and McKamey will certainly never slather your body in flame-retardant gel and lock you in an incinerator somewhere in Huntsville, Ala. None of that is real." That is not an opinon...you're stating this as fact. I would like to offer this challenge to you publicly here in your papers comment section. I have already done so numerous times as you're well aware. Because you're so keen on exploring what is real and not real at MCKAMEY MANOR, and because you're so inclined to make that the final impression of your story, I have a very simple way to bring this to a very exciting conclusion. All you have to do Megan is to actually take the tour. I would think as a professional journalist you would be more then happy to participate in this little adventure. If for no other reason just to get the actual facts correct. Unfortunately we all know you will never do that. Instead you'll sit behind your desk in the comfort of your safe space, writing about second hand information instead of actually seeking the truth from your own experience. I understand that there are those that are "participants" in the world, and others who simple watch from the sidelines. In your case I'm offering you a chance to actually become an active player and not just a computer warrior. If you would care to sign up for the tour, I'm pretty sure you would change your statement. What do you have to loose? Don't just toss opinions out as fact. Maybe you're absolutely correct that MCKAMEY MANOR in not real in the faintest, and that nothing is what it seems. My challenge to you is to be a real real journalist and find out the facts. Imagian the great story you would have, and I know your supporters would love to see you get away from your desk and safe space to show us all what MCKAMEY MANOR is real all about. Is MM just "Smoke and Mirrors," or it it something much more exciting and magical. This would make an excellent follow on piece for your paper. Do you have what it takes Megan to actually find out the truth? If anyone would like to participate in the MM experience, please fill out the contact form at www.Mckameymanor.com. Be advise you must be able to meet all basic requirements and you must provide a doctors letter stating your mentally and physically cleared to participate in our little adventure called MCKAMEY MANOR. And no matter what you may have read in this article, the chance to win 20,000.00 is absolutely real. Do I believe that will ever happen...not on your life ladies and gentlemen. MM is looking forward to meeting each and every one of you. One final note, I'm the most transparent individual you'll ever have the opportunity to meet. If anyone one of you reading this comment have any questions for me, feel free to call me directly at (omitted by u/BubbaJoeJones). I will answer any and all questions...concerning anything. Thank you for reading my little rant :-). R/Russ McKamey”Questions and TheoriesReal, or Staged?McKamey, who is a fan of filmmaking and acting, uploads footage of participant’s tours to YouTube. Or, he used to. McKamey has since stopped uploading to YouTube, presumably because of backlash. However, McKamey hasn’t stopped uploading footage of the tours entirely. According to Facebook users who are in McKamey Manor’s private Facebook group, McKamey still privately uploads, and occasionally live streams, the tours. The tours, which resemble movies backed by professional editing, lighting, and props, raise questions as to whether or not what we’re seeing is staged.In one video, the footage shows three individuals reading the waiver aloud prior to signing. During the reading, McKamey repeats the Manor’s tagline, “You don’t really want to do this.” While the individuals are attempting to read the waiver aloud, they are having their hair pulled out of their scalps, being smacked in the face, and being choked with rope rung around their necks. Footage later shows the individuals having their eyebrows and hair shaved off (and later being forced to eat it), including other sadistic acts such as having drills forced in their nose and mouth, being locked inside a freezer, and being forced to eat raw dead animals.These acts lead some people to theorize that it’s “just a movie” and that the participants themselves are actors.People speculate that not only what is shown on camera real, neither is the alleged waiting-list. According to McKamey, there is a waiting list totaling about 27,000 prospective participants in 2015. However, there is no evidence to support the claim that there are 27,000 prospective participants on the waiting list.There are also people who question the existence of the $20,000 prize upon completion. According to McKamey’s comment, “the chance to win 20,000.00 is absolutely real.” However, some people, including Seling, find it suspicious that nobody has ever been able to claim the prize. McKamey has said on record that though the prize exists, it’s “impossible” to attain. Though, as Seling pointed out, it’s not due to being unable to complete the tour in its entirety, it’s by design. According to some participants, McKamey decides when you’re through, even if you never withdrew your consent. As a result, despite what McKamey claimed, many believe there was no $20,000 prize.How Does McKamey Afford it?One question that remains unanswered is how McKamey is able to fund the Manor. McKamey, who is a US Navy Veteran, does not profit off the Manor. As mentioned before, McKamey accepts his payment in the form of dog food, which is later donated to Operation Greyhound. Additionally, McKamey invested $500,000 out of pocket into the establishment of the Manor in San Diego. According to McKamey, he was shelling out about $250-275 a night for an on-site EMT and somewhere between $15,000-20,000 per year on specialty insurance. McKamey estimates that it cost around $500 per haunt. How is/was this experience bankrolled?Theories and rumors have ranged from believing that McKamey sells the entirety of his footage on the Dark Web, to taking a cut from a betting pool who watches the live streams from Las Vegas.Though according to McKamey, he doesn’t profit off the Manor “at all.” McKamey admitted to struggling financially after having lost his job as a Veteran’s Advocate. As a result, he found that he had to move the Manor where it would be more affordable. As a result, McKamey moved San Diego home and purchased property in Tennessee and Alabama.According to McKamey, his only source of income is his $800 monthly retirement check.Is it Legal?There has been some debate regarding the legality of operating McKamey Manor. As mentioned before, Brotherton reported the incident to the police and was told that there was nothing that can be done as she had signed a waiver. Moreover, the police were called to McKamey Manor on more than one occasion. According to Seling, police arrived to find one woman in a basement, shivering and bruised with duct tape over her mouth. When police asked the woman if the interaction was consensual, the woman said yes. Police had no option other than to leave.According to the Brent Cooper, District Attorney of Lawrence County, Tennessee, McKamey Manor is legal. Cooper says that as long as McKamey participants are there voluntarily, no crime is being committed. However, Cooper does add that a participant can withdraw consent in the state of Tennessee at any time. If McKamey were to disregard the withdrawal of consent, a participant would then be classified as a victim who is being held against their will.McKamey Manor TodayMcKamey Manor’s Tennessee location is, according to McKamey, far less physically involved than it was in San Diego. According to McKamey, the experience in Tennessee and Alabama is more of a “mental game.” Rather than being physically tortured, the participant is manipulated into believing that torture is being inflicted upon them. In response to an online petition demanding that the alleged “torture chamber” be “shut down,” McKamey clarified,“There’s no torture, there’s nothing like that, but under hypnosis if you make someone believe there’s something really scary going on, that’s just in their own mind and not reality. If you’re good enough and you’re able to get inside somebody’s noggin like the way that I can, I can make folks believe whatever I want them to believe. I’m like the most strait-laced guy you could think of, but here I run this crazy haunted house. And people twist it around in their little minds. It really is a magic act, what I do. It’s a lot of smoke and mirrors.”However, that isn’t to say people escape the Manor unscathed. McKamey stands by the possibility that one may leave with cuts and bruises, as stated in the waiver.Despite people having attempted to shut down McKamey Manor by signing petitions and filing police reports, McKamey Manor is still operating year-round in Tennessee and Alabama. According to McKamey, some people have grown so defiant to his presence that they have sent death threats and shot through his windows. Out of the hundreds of threats that McKamey has received over the years, McKamey recalls the one time that he was involved in a potentially life-threatening incident. Shortly before McKamey moved to Tennessee, a single bullet flew by his head while he was working outside in his yard. However, McKamey never reported the alleged incident to the police, claiming that he didn’t want to bring any more attention to himself.Conclusion“I’m not going to open it to the masses–I like keeping it a secret. I like the mystery of the manor. If you saw everything it’d be like any other haunted house. That’s my goal, even when I’m dead and gone, to make sure people are still talking about McKamey Manor. That’s why nobody is really going to ever see behind the wall.” - Russ McKameyTo date, little is known about what took place at McKamey Manor in San Diego. Mulligan and Brotherton maintain that they were subjected to excessive abuse, despite that they signed the waiver. As McKamey said, many of his participants choose not to detail their experiences out of respect for maintaining the mystery of the manor. Thus, there are very few accounts available on people’s experiences at the Manor. Although McKamey claims that the Manor in Tennessee and Alabama is the most “toned-down version of the Manor ever,” people continue to sign petitions in an attempt to shut the Manor down. Despite their efforts, McKamey says that he will continue to run the Manor as long as he is able to.Links:McKamey ManorAn ‘extreme’ haunted house requires a 40-page waiver. Critics say it’s a torture chamber.San Diego terror attraction McKamey Manor runs into opposition at new Tennessee home'There's a chance of death': Extreme haunted tour employee explains their terrifying 40-page waiverMcKamey Manor 'victim' speaks outTerror attraction McKamey Manor is leaving San Diego for the south via /r/UnresolvedMysteries

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