#the cement in question: unicorn blood

[foileadeux]

forgot i havent belleposted. heres isabelle. she was forced to eat cement when she was 6

[murdertrialimagines]

Kokichi, Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo X They/Them! Reader (Dream Soulmate AU!)

‘If it’s alright, how about a soulmate AU where the soulmates can occasionally meet in each other’s dreams, but can’t remember their soulmate’s identity when they wake up? w/ a curious, persistent, and thoughtful reader (they/them) and Kokichi(!!!), Kaede, Shuichi, and Kiibo please u///u thank you for all of your amazing work! ♡’

I am back from the dead. After three months of silence, I am back. I have a cosplay Tiktok now. Anyone want it? Story under the tag! 

Kokichi

When in dreams with your soulmate, you know everything about them, but when you wake up, you have barely a hint

A voice, a scent, a first name if you’re extremely lucky

And for you...

You had that laugh

 The laugh that this boy (it was a boy, right?) had that rang in your head everyday, awake or otherwise

 You of course asked him a plethora of questions, but could never remember the answers

 That didn’t stop you though, each night you fruitlessly searched

 It haunted you, in a way

 You had a small book younger you swore to fill with all of the things you could remember from those nights

 Yet all you had written was ‘purple’ and ‘laugh’.

 You asked all of your friends if they knew anyone with the two specific characteristics, but no one knew, or were too busy with their own hunts

 You sat outside the small cafe, taking a sip of your cold drink to balance the warm day

This is where you sat when you thought, as no one approached you and that gave you time to think

 And today you sat, book in hand to try and figure out the clues your brain has so helpfully left you

But the words seemed to be a mess of nothing mixed with more nothing

 “For the last time I’m not getting you the unicorn drink.” A stern and possibly annoyed voice rang from inside the shop, radiating out of the open door

 “But I really want it!!”

 “You got it last time and hated it.”

 “But I want it!”

 ‘Children’, you thought. ‘Never wanna be wrong.’

 After what sounded like a little hushed arguing, you grateful for the litttle quiet, the two seemed to hash out a deal

 “Fine. Unicorn drink.”

 “Knew you’d crack.” Followed by a distinct laugh

That child is a little- wait.

 Quickly standing up, rattling the table a bit, you leaned into the doorway

 A small teen balanced out next to a taller one, both donning grey and purple hair respectively-

 “Wait.”

 You must’ve said that a little bit louder than expected as the few people in the shop looked your way

 You kept your eyes on the short purple boy, until your eyes locked with his

 And the memories suddenly came flooding back

 All of the dreams you shared, the laughs, the arguments, the plans you two made for when you found each other, it all came forward

 “...it’s you..”

 The boy’s surprised face, probably from seeing all of these memories as well, turned into a grin one could only describe as childish

 “Shuichi!! My soulmate is right there! And they’re more attractive than Kaede!”

This earned the boy a shove, coincidentally in your direction

 He stepped closer, a slightly more serious look on his face

 “So, I’m Kokichi! Who are you, how are you, and what’s your blood type?”

 “Uh, Y/n L/n, I’m good, actually, and...b positive?”

 The boy, Kokichi as it was, cracked a smile, looking slightly down at you

 “Well, this should be an interesting development!”

 “What do you mean?”

 The boy suddenly took your hand. With a smile Kokichi started to drag you off, leaving his friend behind

”we gotta go boast to Miu that I got a hot soulmate!”

 “W-What?!”

Kaede

 Every since you started dreaming of your soulmate, everyone has noticed how refreshed you had been

 Some people fought with their soulmates, earning them the feeling of nightmares or never sleeping when they wake up

 And although you can’t exactly remember what happens in your dreams, you can tell how serene it is

Faint hints of vanilla and the sound of a piano being played, is what you would describe your dreams as

Everyone said you were lucky to have such dreams that refresh you each morning

But you secretly wished for a little more

People always believed the idea that the more outgoing your soulmate was, the more you could remember when you woke up

And you, you could only remember classical music

It didn’t bother you much, as you knew for sure you had a soulmate, and a possibly famous one, as your friends always teased you about

So as payback, you dragged them to every recital you could find in the area, forcing them to watch the pianist with you in hopes it was your soulmate

Yet you never found them, until you transferred schools

First day at hopes peak high-school, as a reserve course student

The uproar of bullying towards reserve students had died down before you transferred, luckily, but some still picked on the kids who got in without a talent

You had been amazed at all of the talented people in the school, gawking at all of their talents whenever they showed off for you

You were especially interested in all of the musical talents, as your soulmate had planted an appreciation for music in you

When you heard of an ultimate musician, you had a small thought wondering if she might be your soulmate, but that idea was quickly tossed when you saw how intense her personality was

You would definitely have remembered that

When you met her, you told her of your situation in passing, and your soulmate troubles seemed to stick in her mind

“I know every musical talent there is here! I can totally hook up my bud with a cute player!”

She began introducing you to every person who’s talent had to do with music, yet none seemed to be a match

It had turned to months of being at the school with no luck

 ‘Maybe my soulmate is just a normal person with a knack for piano...’ you thought as you laid on one of the benches in the school garden, arm over your eyes to block the sun

You let your mind wander, listening to the noises of nature, the water from the nearby fountain, and the kids chatting as they walked past

 You were almost asleep when you heard it

A soft humming voice, humming a small tune that sounded extremely familiar

Quickly moving your arm from your face, you sat up to see a blonde walking past, slightly swaying her head to the beat of the humming

“H-hey!”

You jumped up and grabbed her shoulder, the girl turning around surprised

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to know...what’s the name of the song you’re humming?”

“Oh, it’s Minuet in F Major!” The girl said with a slight smile

Finally putting a name to the song you’ve heard so much in your dreams, you smiled back before continuing

“So, uh, this might sound weird, but I hear that song in my dreams a LOT, so I was wondering if you played piano or something?”

She gave a gasp before her eyes lit up

“I do, and I play this in my dreams for my soulmate!” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist!”

Taking her hand, you smiled at her once more. “I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

 “So am I! What’s your name?”

“Y/n”

“That’s a nice name!”

“Thank you! I’ve actually been looking for my soulmate since I came to this school, but none of the other talents have been a match”

“What bad timing!” She said with a laugh. “I’ve been out of country for the last few months playing in a championship!”

Kaede grabbed your hand, cupping it into hers

“I’m so glad I finally get to meet you, Y/n! My friends are gonna be so excited to meet you!”

As she began to drag you away you smiled at her, knowing how serene your life was going to be from now on, awake or not.

Shuichi

You had a great memory

You remembered a lot of things about your soulmate, their black hair, their strange hobbies, and the stories of their friends

Yet you could not find them /anywhere/

You first started searching for just people with black hair that matched your age, but that quickly turned out to be impossible

So you started looking for people with his hobbies, that many teens couldn’t be interested in murders, or mysteries, right?

Wrong

So you began to look for people who were possibly his friends, but that was near impossible as well, seeming as they didn’t go to your school and you couldn’t wander onto another campus

You closed the book you wrote all of your clues in, the entire thing filled with scribbles and ink smudges, writing and clues only you could understand

 You were walking home from school that day, a few textbooks as well as your notebook being carried in your arms as your bag was already full from the other assignments given to you

You looked at your watch, realizing the time you spent searching for your soulmate after class meant you had minutes to reach your bus

Picking up speed, you began to run, trying to get to the bus stop in time, paying attention to only your pace and the seconds ticking by

Running past a small patch of construction, you didn’t notice the patch of newly broken sidewalk, tripping on a larger piece of cement

Preparing to hit the dirt you braved yourself, closing your eyes

But you fell into something on the way down, taking it with you

Opening your eyes, you saw a boy on the ground next to you, a schoolboy by the looks of all of the books scattered along yours

“Omigosh, I’m so sorry!” You began scrambling to pick up your things

Adjusting his collar, the boy helped you as well as picked up his

“It’s completely fine,” he gave you a smile but you didn’t see it as you were looking for your journal

Spotting it you picked it up, managing all of your books into a carry-able pile

“Do you need any help? I’m shui-“

“I got it, but thank you! I have to run now!”

Giving him a small smile you began to run again, leaving the boy and his belongings behind

You had managed to catch your bus and your breath, and soon got home

Dropping your books onto your desk, you let out a sigh or relief as your arms stretched, joints popping slightly from being in the position for so long

Having nothing to do, you decided to look through your journal again, hoping that maybe you could piece something together

Picking it up you laid down and opened it, ready to decipher your cryptic dreams

But this wasn’t your handwriting

Scanning the pages, you analyzed the small and neat handwriting

 ‘Curious, rambles a bit’ ‘lots of jokes, I think (your hair color) hair?’ ‘Bubbly, but also dark at moments’ ‘I can’t find them, so I don’t think they go to Hopes Peak with me’

You kept looking at the book, wondering what had happened to it. Did you accidentally grab his? What were the odds that he was your soulmate, and had the same exact journal, for the same exact reason?

 Extremely improbable, but by the looks of what was in your hands, completely possible

You continued reading the book, searching for clues to his identity

‘Kaito said that I should just remember harder. He doesn’t get that that doesn’t work because he’s known his soulmate since before dreaming of them’

A kaito...wait you’ve heard this name somewhere

Opening your phone you googled the name Kaito, paired with Hopes Peak

You found headline after headline about the famed teen who is becoming the youngest astronaut in history

Scrolling through some articles on the page, you passed one that was headed with a group picture, labeled as Kaito and his friends

 And in that photo, albeit somewhat in the corner, was the boy you ran into earlier

Solidifying where the boy went, as well as his friend group, you closed the book and left your home, looking up the address for the boys school

By the time you got there, classes had ended for the day, kids swarming to go home or meet up with friends

You sat in the front of the school for a few minutes until you saw a familiar head of spiky purple hair

“Hey!” You ran towards him, stopping in front of him. “Sorry, are you Kaito?”

 “Yeah dude!” He threw a thumbs up, winking at you. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well um, I ran into a kid- I think he’s your friend? He wears the grey suit and hat?”

“Yeah, that’s Shuichi! I was just about to meet up with him. Whadya need?”

 “Shuichi...” you finally put a name to the boy. “Well...! I found his notebook and, I think he might be my soulmate?” You confessed, the last part of your sentence sped up in uncertainty

At this, Kaito lit up, grabbing your arm

“As a matter of fact, you are strangely similar to what he describes in his dreams! Cmon, I’ll take you to him!”

Before you could protest he dragged you off into town

He pulled you to the shopping district, entering into a small cafe close to where you and Shuichi first met

You eyed the patrons, finding the boy immediately in the back

“Shuichi!” Kaito boomed, causing you to wince as he dragged you to the table he occupied

“Ah-kaito! Who uh, did you bring?”

“This is...uh...”

“Y/n...”

“Y/n!” Kaito slapped you on the back. “They’re your soulmate!”

Both of you faltered at the sudden statement, looking at each other with surprise in your eyes

“My...soulmate?” The boy in front of you finally said before pulling out a notebook from his book bag

“So this must be yours?” Shuichi handed you the book, and you recognized it as your own journal

 “Yes!” You flipped through it, glad to see it unharmed. “So, this one must be yours?”

You returned his identical journal, not missing the flash of joy in his eyes as he grazed his fingertips on the spine “oh, thank you!”

You two stared at each other for a moment, taking in the idea of finally finding your soulmate when a hand was clasped on both of your shoulders

“So!” Boomed Kaito. “Are you two going to have a date now or what?”

“Uh, yeah...yeah!” Shuichi spoke, softly grabbing your empty hand. “I want to learn more about the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

The soft smile he flashed caused your heart to skip a beat. “Yeah...I’d love that.”

Kiibo

Everyone rumors of the very unlucky few who don’t meet their soulmates in their dreams

Some say they’re doomed for a life of loneliness, while others hypothesize that they will be matched with another dreamless person

Yet these people were rare, almost never heard of, so no one worried

But when you realized you never once glimpsed a potential soulmate in your dreams, you panicked

Was it just a late start? Was your soulmate dead? Were you defective?

 You kept your worries to yourself, opting to tell people vague answers when asked about your dreams

You didn’t want to be pitied, you wanted to feel loved

You knew it was fruitless, but you knew that some people who were known to not have dreams of their soulmates found them anyways, but that was just a rumor

Still, the idea that possibly, just possibly, you could figure out someone is your soulmate without a dream kept hope in your soul

You happened to find a few people who were dreamless, who told you that when they found their soulmates, it was a feeling rather than a vision

With this hope in your heart, you continued your life, everyday praying that a new encounter would lead to that one person meant for you

And while it never did, you kept your head high

Until your little brothers drone broke while he was playing with it in the backyard, accidentally flying it into a tree and snapping some wiring in it

our parent had asked you to take it to a local repair shop to see if I was worth it to repair it instead of just buying another one

So you went, begrudgingly, to a downtown store that had confirmed over a phone call that they could fix the problem

When you got there however, you noticed smoke coming out of the building, and gasped at the idea of a fire happening

 However, there were no flames in sight, nor panicking citizens or firemen

 Cautiously, you walked in

 Inside was a worker, the one you spoke to on the phone, you assumed

 And with him was a...boy?

 Smoke was pouring from the boys arm, as well as sporadic sparks here and there

 The chime of the door opening must’ve alerted the two, as they turned to look at the new arrival

 “You must’ve called about the drone,” the worker said with a small smile, eyeing the toy in your hands. “I’ll be right with you after helping this gentleman”

However, his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at the smoking customer, who stared back in return

Your vision felt blurry, yet somehow crystal clear

 A sense of weightlessness washed over you as the boys eyes lit up, quite literally

And then his arm gave a small burst of sparks that caught into a small fire

 The worker rushed to put out the fire on the teens arm as you absentmindedly walked over to him

 “Did you...feel that?”

 “I think so,” the boy said nervously, eyes shifting around your figure. “I’ve never felt an emotion like that before. Or an emotion in general.”

 You gave a small giggle, causing the boy to again physically light up at your reaction, and again spark his arm

 “Oh, I’m sorry!” You said, cheeks reddening. “It’s just...”

 “I’m your soulmate.”

 Taken aback by what the boy so calmly said, you gave him a bewildered look

 “I mean,” the boy started again, as the worker tried to quickly fix his arm, probably in fear of his workshop burning down. “I just have a lot of data on how dreamless people find their soulmates, since technically I can’t dream...”

 It made sense, his train of thought. As you looked over it was easy to tell he wasn’t really human. It didn’t freak you out however, as the feeling of simply finding the one for you made all of the worries in the back of your mind go away

 The atmosphere settled into an awkward silence as you stared at each other, until the worker closed the boys arm with a clang

 “There, done! Now please, leave before my shop burns down...”

 He turned to leave, but turned back to you

 He spit a piece of paper from his mouth, and you noticed it had a phone number on it

 “Call me sometime, I am quite literally my own phone so I won’t miss it.”

 You gave another small laugh before pocketing the slip of paper

 “Thank you, uh...”

 “Kiibo.”

 “Thank you, Kiibo”

I will probably disappear for another 3 months, so nag me to write!

[callmeunstable]

Angels & Demons - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Characters: Reader, Godling, Healer

Summary: She finds herself in the middle of a unknown forest after falling asleep. It seems like a normal forest until she gets to meet a mystical creature that welcomes her in a different world.

Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the second part of my The Witcher Fic. I accidentally deleted this part so I had to reupload ot. Yes I cried, but thankfully I still had the draft saved on my laptop.

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song: I couldn’t find the original one sooo

Absently, Alva wondered if most of the monsters were meant to be as beautiful and kind as James, or if this one was an exception to the rule, her mind struggled to hold on to one thought, with a whole new world opening in front of her.

“I know the healer of the village on the other side of the forest. She’s nice. She brings fruits to me from time to time. She will help you.” James hopped in front of her leading the way out of the woods.

She couldn’t believe anything her eyes captured. There are bad creatures. According to the Godling, there are a lot of them. The boy explained to her, that “Drowners” inhabit both natural and artificial bodies of water, from rivers and lakes to mill ponds and city sewers. It is commonly thought that these creatures are drowned men, somehow arisen from the dead to prey on the living. This opinion is as widespread as it is false, for the beasts are another post-Conjunction relict.

She couldn’t believe that this Godling just was a boy but knowing such crucial things about this life. She remembered James talking about the powers he has, that’s how he was able to save her.

“Hey, play some more of your music, please? I love the sound of it and we have to walk some time.” The Godling begged and gave his best puppy face.

She grabbed her phone and she had an idea. Maybe she was able to call or text her dad? Letting him know she’s okay. She wasn’t sure if this was the best idea she ever had, but still better than making him believe she was dead.

No signal. Of course.

“Music, please.”

She pressed the icons on her phone monotonously and a random song started playing.

 “Oh dear, oh dear, I’m sorry

That you grew up so soon

A cold year and no high school parties

I’ve been drinking alone

Oh, I’ve been drinking alone”

 “A blessing to my ears. What's the name of this bard?” The Godling started dancing along while walking in front of the girl.

“What is a bard?” These questions came automatically out of her mouth, wanting to know everything about this world.

Knowledge is power. Even in a world like this. If she knows what she has to be careful about, she can start to protect herself.

“You know the man and women writing songs and these lovely texts of legends, stories of their personal experiences, or their imaginations. I don’t care what they are about. I care about the melodies. I love the tunes.” James seemed to drift off in a state where he was admiring the artists and musicians at this time the whole way out of the woods.

He specifically talked about a Bard called Priscilla. A young woman famous for her poetry.

 “So, don't fear, don’t fear their warnings

They’re bitterer than most

4 years of driving across the country

For empty seats at their shows

And they’ve been drinking alone.”

 Less and fewer trees came along their way and after some more minutes, a village became visible. Still far away but the girl decided to turn off the music which was rewarded with an angry look of the Godling.

“Her cottage isn’t in the village. It's right here!”

He took a sharp turn between some trees and as told, a small cabin was revealed in front of them. It was old. Looked like a typical middle-aged, self-made cottage. Random kinds of stones were piled upon each other, connected by something that seemed to be a kind of cement. A small chimney was built on top and was busy blowing smoke out of it.

“Savilla! I want to show you, my new friend.” The boy shouted and Alva begged it was quiet enough so no one around could hear them. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone in this world, at least for now.

The old wooden door of the cottage opened and a middle-aged woman stepped out of the house. She was beautiful. Her Long black hair was braided down to the small waist of hers. Her long dress was colored with a dark wood green tone. A small V-neck covered her chest mostly and the butterfly sleeves made her look like a princess. A less fancy princess but a gorgeous one.

“Hello, my lovely James. How can I help you today?” Savilla had a warm smile on her face and holding her arms out for e hug.

The Godling happily jumped into her arms, to just leave them a couple of seconds later to point hysterically at Alva.

“This is my friend Alva. She got lost in my forest and a Drowner hit her. I think shes not from hear so she needs your help.”

Savilla laid her eyes on the small girl for the first time. Silently analyzing every single part of her. At this moment Alva realized that she was a unicorn in this world. Her clothes looked completely different from Safillas and James’. She was wearing a red lumberjacket that revealed her sports bra. Some pair of sporty leggings rested on her legs and short sneakers tied on her feet. Her favorite outfit for hiking. At least her fake leather bag seemed to fit the surroundings.

It wasn’t hard to tell that if the person in front of her wasn’t a cosplayer of Lord of the Rings, she had to be stuck in some kind of middle age century.

“Yes, she's not from here. I can tell.” The firm look of the women changed into a friendly smile. “Come in, I think it’s the best if no one sees you like this.”

Both Alva and James entered the cabin. Inside it was beautiful. Flower and herbs were growing every in countless pottery. An out of stone made kitchen area filled the rest of the room with a cozy fireplace at the opposite wall. Different kinds of fabric and papers stuck to the wall. It was filled with colors and smells that made you feel instantly relaxed, at least if you’re a person like Alva.

“You don’t seem to be in a lot of pain.”, stated Safilla while grabbing a wooden chair and placing it in front of her, guiding her to sit down.

“It’s pretty numb right now. It was worse about an hour ago.” Alva tried to give off a normal impression. But what is normal in this world.

er “That what I was inferred already. You seem to be in shock. Your body numbed itself to protect you from the pain.” While investigating the big scratch she explaining typical injuries caused by Drowners.

“You’re lucky that you had James by your side. He’s a loyal soul.” The healer tossed an apple to the boy who caught it happily.

Savilla mixed some unfamiliar herbs and bandaged it up with a clean cloth.

“It should heal fast, it's not a deep cut. You are lucky.”

The women put everything back in place and then grabbed a stool herself.

“Where are you from?”, she asked.

Where was she from actually? Maybe similar countries still exist?

“Originally my family comes from Sweden but I live in the USA at the moment.” The girl explained but ended up not receiving the reaction she wanted.

“I never heard of a place like that. I traveled a lot through Cintra, Temeria, and Lyria. How did you end up here?”

The girl got quiet. She didn’t want to cause any trouble. She was a stranger to this world. How much corruption was she able to cause?

Alva felt a hand on her shoulder. Savilla gently pat her and gave her a motherly smile.

“Look dear, I’m not here to hurt you. I can see you disturbed, even traumatized. You have no idea how you got access to this world, have you?”

The girl started to tear up and found herself in a warm hug of the healer. She couldn’t help herself but at this moment everything that was built up throughout the day suddenly burst out of her.

Every breath felt like acid burning heart throat, inflaming her lungs. Her heart felt like somebody was squeezing out every single emotion trapped in there. Like a sharp blade that is cutting straight through her chest.

“Mark my words, one day will come when you finally realize that fate is inevitable. One day you will get passed all this pain and realize it was a lesson learned for a better future, for a better you. You believe that this was an accident. But in our world, everything happens for a reason.” Savilla didn’t break the contact because she knew that this girl needed it. This wasn’t the first time something like this happened. The same happened decades ago. When the monsters first got into this dimension.

“I can teach you if you let me.”

Alva lifted her head and looked at the healer.

“I can teach you how to survive in this world until we figure it a way how to get you back. You just need to let me help you.”

“How do you know?” The girl was confused, more confused than she was, to begin with. How much does this woman know?

“This is not the first time a portal opened on accident. What we need to figure out is, if this indeed was an accident or if you have a mission you have to fulfill. I will help you. That’s my duty. Let me explain. I’m a mage.”

Savilla explained to Alva that mages are basically what she knows as a witch. Only rare individuals have the potential to become mages and many of those with this potential are doomed to madness. Unless the individual in question - known as a source - learns to control their power quickly, he or she may end up a half-insane, slobbering oracle. That is why schools of sorcery were created, where talented children study for many years, acquiring knowledge and mastering magical skills. Because of their powers, mages age more slowly than ordinary people. Savilla herself attended a school called Aretuza. But she didn’t believe in their morals so she left and lives on her own.

Mages can extract magical energy from the four elements, transport themselves long distances and heal, as well as kill, in the blink of an eye. They have extensive scientific and political knowledge; in the latter respect, many mages are the equals of rulers.

A witch that is connected so some kind of rule book.

“Know you know about me, but for now we need to get you out of your clothes. They reveal your true identity. There are people out there who will view you as dangerous and they’ll get scared. We need to give you a new persona. But for now, let’s start easy. No one will look for you because James took care of that. New clothes will at least give you the appearance of our dimension.”

Savilla walked in a different room and you could her searching sounds. Fabrics got thrown around after her steps came closer again.

As she walked into the room she showed off a dress similar to hers. The dress was white and it had some floral symbols embroidered in the fabric. Her sleeves were also long and wide, almost touching the ground. The White of the dress was mostly protected by a moss green light coat that had a corset on the front. The white dress was strapless but unseen due to the green coat. On top of that Savilla brought her some flat sandals.

“I can give you some pants to wear underneath the dress if you’d like. Is more efficient when you have to move quickly.” The mage was happy she could assist that young girl. She finally had a purpose to assist to.

Alva only nodded along, speechless by the kindness the woman was offering her.

Savilla walked up to her with a hairbrush and put her hair into different styles. “And maybe we can do something with your hair, putting it up or braid-“, she hesitated the moment when she was putting her hair up. “I think it looks fitting already.”

Quickly brushing Alva's hair down again.

[theatricalities]

⧼   A mask of perfect innocence hiding the machiavellian intentions forever lurking beneath the surface — the ace up your sleeve, the trick coin with one side weighing heavier than its opposite because chance is simply a game that’s far too risky for the likes of you; the claw marks left on absolutely anything and everything in your wake — it’s not desperation that makes you cling so fervently to the objects of your desire as much as it’s your own way of ensuring survival; the self-imposed solitude clouding your ocean eyes  — questions of identity and belonging are forever at the heels of your every decision, begging you to turn back before it’s too late.   ⧽ 

  ━━   hey, isn’t that ZEPHYRINE TRAVERS ? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the 24 year old part-Veela WITCH is a SLYTHERIN alumnus who has gone on to be an ACTRESS IN THE WIXEN WORLD. i’ve heard they can be quite AUDACIOUS & BEGUILING, but i don’t know…they came off very EXPLOITATIVE and DELUSIVE in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it?

(  takes a hiatus...comes back with a new character  )

Heya ghouls, gals, and nonbinary pals! It’s me, ya girl. Zephyrine is my second little child to enter the group and I’m real wild about her! She’s inspired by DE idea #17 which you can find listed here!  Obviously, Zeph is an OC, but her tie to canon is that she’s the daughter of Travers, the Death Eater who killed Marlene McKinnon and family. Also, because I just don’t know how to write contented characters, Zeph’s a bit of a wreck, too — has some daddy issues, wants more than the world can offer, doesn’t have a true sense of self...but she’s got great fashion !

Below is Zephyrine’s bio and general information. Wanted connections can be found here ( very under construction rn ) and they’ll be updated as play progresses! Please feel free to pm me here or on discord ( debaucherie#6347 ) if you’d like to plot ✿

BEFORE THE WAR — “ Everyone wants something...”

[ trigger warnings for death, murder; ]

On the night that marked Zephyrine Travers’ birth, the world in return exalted her upon arrival, singing the praises of the newborn babe as boldly as a songbird in spring.

Or — that was the tale upon which her mother raised her, and it was one the girl found fitting enough to believe, even if all the world around spoke to the contrary. After all, her father (whose only claim to the term was in the scientific sense alone) created so empty a home that such fantastical ideas were perhaps the only source of hope that the young girl could find. At the age of two, Zephyrine and her family were quietly removed from their ancestral home as her father was sentenced to Azkaban for the murder of Marlene McKinnon. She and her mother were stripped of all riches, no matter the fact that the young girl continued the bloodline of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. 

And so, life continued on in this way, with little yarns of fantasy spun each and every night in the dreariness of their one-room hovel, spoken in assuring whispers as they cooked by candlelight or repaired a worn and weathered dress when there was no money to replace it instead. Despite the woe-be-gone skirts and helpless shoes, she was determined that no one should know about the unexpected poverty that marked her home life, and walked into the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with every intent on looking the part of the Travers name even if it was in name alone that she remained connected  —  going so far as to insist to the Sorting Hat that she was meant to be in Slytherin, as her family had been for centuries, even when it argued she was better suited to Ravenclaw instead. 

In many ways, her adolescence was a long, drawn-out course in the art of convincing others — she could manifest a stream of tears to reassure a fellow Slytherin that she truly felt for her father just as easily as she could feign prolonged wooziness to avoid Flying class for a week. She flashed her blessedly charming smile across the House tables in the Great Hall, befriended everyone and anyone while still keeping them at arm’s length, and convinced even the most doubtful that she was an invaluable creature — not because of her name or the weight it still carried in certain circles, but because she believed herself to be and would not rest until it was an undeniable, unequivocal truth.

At sixteen, however, the meager world she’d known her whole life shattered entirely, its fragments not pieced together with the loving touch of her mother, but instead the fearsome presence of her father, who broke out of Azkaban along with ten other Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange. Unsurprisingly, he was asked by Lord Voldemort to prove his loyalty, and continued his murderous warpath — but instead of getting caught this time, he ensured that another would take his place. Zephyrine’s mother, innocent as a dove, was framed for his crimes and swiftly locked up in Azkaban, and Zander Travers was restored all riches seized upon his arrest.

By seventeen, Zephyrine had all the hallmarks of the dreams her mother raised her on : wealth far beyond her dreams, a manor estate fit for royalty and all the accompanying fanfare upon being properly introduced into a society of Death Eaters, but lost her mother in the process to a nightmare come true — the very woman who had instilled in the girl so great a belief in the impossible, that even this seemed like something Zephyrine could undo. 

She now balanced quite a precarious act, appearing to her father as his perfect little Death Eater in training, while turning spy for the Order in exchange for their help in freeing her mother once the War was won. 

AFTER THE WAR. — “...and once you know what they want, you know how to move them.”

When the time came, however, her mother was one of the many forgotten in the shadow of the Order’s triumph, relegated to little more than a broken promise as she rotted in Azkaban along with her husband, once again sentenced for his crimes. Their daughter, however, now took up the mantle of the new head of the Travers family, left with the ruins of her father’s blood-soaked legacy. In a world rebuilding itself, there was no game to be played when each side no longer had a reason to fight — and so, she waited. Seethed, more accurately, and busied herself with cleaning up the Travers name as time passed by. After receiving a formal training with the Wixen Academy of Dramatic Arts, she cemented herself firmly as a darling in the wixen theatre scene. In truth, it was all too easy. For twenty years, she’d practiced different ways to be believed — not to lie, she’d argue to herself, for any of those perceived lapses in truth had simply been her playing a character in order to get what she needed, and the silver-tongued sweetheart she portrayed to the public was no different.  To believe was the notion her mother instilled in her, but to be believed was one she’d determined necessary for herself, even if it meant losing any sense of self in the process. And so, upon hearing word of a reformed Death Eater legion under Bellatrix Lestrange’s leadership, she appealed to their cause, vowing that she could easily become a spy within the group which once held her loyalty — in exchange, once more, for the release* of her mother. Her allegiances, of course, are unknown to the public at large. In fact, when asked by the press on such matters, she voices her support for the Ministry and their efforts at preventing another tragedy to ever mark the Wixen World’s history again. Naturally, it’s all an act, as it has always been, and she’ll keep playing the game for as long as it take to reunite* with her mother, gain the most powerful of allies, and secure her own survival. 

[ * — while i’d love to believe that zeph’s mom is still alive, i think mrs. travers is likely to have perished rather soon after being wrongfully imprisoned. however, i believe that this information was kept from zeph as a way of controlling her, first by her father, then perhaps by the order ( i’d have to actually plot this one out w/an order member for this to be true ), but certainly by bellatrix and the DE clan. ]

BASICS.

FULL NAME:  Zephyrine Travers NAME MEANING: Zephyrine is of French origin and means ‘west wind’ ; Travers is of English origin and means ‘to cross’  NICKNAME(S):  Zeph ( used by family and close friends, only ) GENDER IDENTITY: Demigirl DATE OF BIRTH: 29 October, 1995 ( i put the wrong age in my app bc maths are not my strong suit, so technically Zeph is 24 but will turn 25 soon ) BIRTHPLACE:  Travers Estate, Hampshire, England  CURRENT PLACE OF DWELLING:  London, England  SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  pansexual panromantic LANGUAGE(S): English, French, basic Latin

LIFE.

OCCUPATION: Actress  EDUCATION: Homeschooled from ages 4 to 11; attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry from ages 11 to 18; attended the Wixen Academy of Dramatic Arts from ages 19 to 21. SOCIOECONOMIC LEVEL ( GROWING UP ):  Born upper class, but lower middle class from ages 2 - 16, upper class ages 16 - onward. SOCIOECONOMIC LEVEL ( CURRENTLY ): Upper class. RELIGION: Atheist

MAGICAL.

BLOOD TYPE: Not quite pureblood — but, publicly pureblood  SPECIES: 1/4 Veela  WAND TYPE: Hawthorn, unicorn hair core, 13″, reasonably supple SKILL LEVEL: Reasonably proficient, but a distinct knack for transfiguration and healing magic. Is adept at DADA, but often flees from the scene of battle before needing to utilize curses, jinxes, etc. PATRONUS: Incapable of producing a corporeal Patronus, but if she could, it would take the form of a shrike. BOGGART: Herself — albeit, a different, unrecognizable version of herself. In all her lying and betraying and such, Zeph has lost sense of herself and just doesn’t know the depths she might go to in order to get what she wants — and so I think it’s very possible that her biggest fear is the worst possible version of herself, the one that resembles her father in his uncaring bloodlust, messy and indiscriminate and entirely lacking in the nuance she prides herself on. AMORTENTIA: Fresh popcorn, the collar of a well-worn leather jacket, the scent of a newspaper so fresh the ink smudges one’s fingertips MIRROR OF ERISED: TBD. HOGWARTS HOUSE: Slytherin ( the Sorting Hat debated for approximately nine minutes between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but ultimately decided on Slytherin because Zephyrine asked it to. ) FAVORITE SUBJECT:  Transfiguration. LEAST FAVORITE SUBJECT:  Arithmancy. CLUBS / EXTRACURRICULARS: The Slug Club ( Year 7 ), Theatre Club ( Years 2 - 7 ), Keres Club ( ages 22 - present )

RELATIONS.

PARENT(S): Zander & Odette ( nee Lynd ) Travers SIBLING(S): Two older sisters, both deceased, from her father’s first marriage, and a younger sibling born one-two years after her from her father’s affair. SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): tbd. EX SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): tbd. CHILDREN:  none. PET(S):  Two cats, Beryl and Belinda. 

PHYSICAL.

HEIGHT: 5′7″ HAIR: silver-blonde EYES: blue BODY MODIFICATION(S): Three piercings in either ear. Despite Bellatrix’s insistence, she has staved off getting the Dark Mark under the guise that it would harm her status as an actress. In truth, she simply would hate to get something so permanent when her loyalties are rather, well, impermanent. NOTABLE SCARS / BIRTHMARKS:  No scars / noticeable birthmarks. A scattering of freckles. GLASSES / CONTACTS: Only when required for an acting role, but not usually needed. CLOTHING STYLE: Quite a soft, ‘feminine’ style — lace, ribbons, ruffles, pastels — but there’s always one or two little things hinting at something decidedly more aggressive ( platinum collar-tips pointed and sharpened, metallic makeup, earrings in the design of tiny daggers, black lace gloves hiding perfectly manicured claws ) ; zephyrine also wears her mother’s choker, which is platinum-plated and has a handshake as a clasp. DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous

PERSONALITY.

ZODIAC: Scorpio ( sun ) — observant, expressive, secretive, vengeful, enigmatic // Gemini ascendant, Capricorn moon PERSONALITY TYPE: ENTJ, The Commander — confident, charismatic, strategic, ruthless, stubborn, emotionally naive MORAL ALIGNMENT:  Neutral Evil TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic  ELEMENT:  Water VICE(S): Wrath VIRTUE(S):  Diligence CHARACTER PARALLELS: Dahlia Hawthorne ( Ace Attorney ), Amy March ( Little Women ), Margaery Tyrell ( ASOIAF ), Vesper Lynd ( James Bond ), Eva Perón ( history / ‘EVITA’ the musical & film )

[invisibletinkerer]

Fic: 30 Seconds Later (chapter 18)

Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 5 – Chapter 6 – Chapter 7 – Chapter 8 – Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Length: ~6000 words

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/13715520/chapters/50183618

If it hadn’t been for those cracked ribs that made moving around more annoying than usual, Dipper might have been pacing the living room right now. As it was, he was seated in his grunkle’s TV chair with a stack of books and notebooks around him, chewing on the end of a battered ballpoint pen.

Grunkle Stan and uncle Ford should have been back hours ago, and yes, Stan had called Soos and said they’d be late, but that was also hours ago, and Soos hadn’t even thought to ask what had happened, and sure, Dipper could technically just pick up his phone and call right now and ask what took them so long, but if it was nothing grunkle Stan would just laugh at him and if it was something maybe no one would answer, or—

It was really, really hard not to think about Bill.

“You okay, dood?”

Dipper started, biting down on the pen, then winced from the jolt of pain from his ribs. He hadn’t even noticed Soos coming in.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He dropped the pen and tried to smile.

“Hmm.” Soos said. “That’s what you want me to believe.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I can’t think of anything more to do today. Still waiting for those cement guys to come fix the foundation tomorrow, but otherwise we’d be ready to open up the Mystery Shack again.” He paused. “Once Mr Pines has gotten things sorted out with his brother, I suppose.”

“Are you going home?” For some reason, the thought made Dipper uncomfortable. It was nice to at least have Soos tinkering around the house when grunkle Stan was away and Dipper himself couldn’t go anywhere.

“Nah. Think I’ll stay and wait for Mr Pines.”

“Oh, good. I mean, sure.”

Soos put a couple of books down on Dipper’s lap so he could sit on the dinosaur skull, then turned on the TV to some local news station. “So, tomorrow is the finale of Ducktective, huh?” he said conversationally.

“Yes!” Mabel shouted from the kitchen before Dipper could reply. “It’s finally time to find out who’s been outsmarting Ducktective all through the season! I think it’s that suspicious-looking cat – either that or it’s Ducktective’s own secret twin brother.”

“I have questions about the dog, though.”

“Look at this!” Mabel came rushing from the kitchen and twirled, showing off the duck portrait on her new sweater. “I finished my Ducktective sweater, and these hats, too. Now we can all be Ducktectives!”

Mabel, of course, would always be Mabel. Today she’d been so relentlessly enthusiastic that Dipper simply had to admire it. If she were worrying about anything, she definitely didn’t show it.

And really, Dipper hadn’t had a bad day himself. It had even been nice to spend some time indoors for a change. And completely regardless of any bad dreams or worries about demonic possession, he’d gotten a promise from the actual author of the Journals to play DDD with him later—just thinking about it made him giddy. Except that was assuming Stan and Ford would come back okay. And that he wouldn’t go back on the promise because he was— Well, Ford being too skittish and paranoid and tired to play games wasn’t totally unrealistic. Especially if something had happened.

Dipper realized to his own dismay that he was already chewing on another pen.

At first, when he’d thought grunkle Stan and uncle Ford would be back soon-ish, he’d spent a lot of time making DDD characters. First he made fantasy versions of himself and Ford, then he kept going with other people too just because he could. After adding Mabel, Stan, Soos, Wendy, Grenda and Candy, and even Li’l Gideon for good measure, he went on to make up game stats for Gravity Falls gnomes, and finally, with some input from Mabel, unicorns. Then, while Mabel biked down to town to buy more craft supplies and snacks, he’d spent some time catching up on the mystery novels he’d brought from home but hadn’t had time to read before. He’d wanted to take a look at uncle Ford’s other two journals, but Mabel told him Ford had put all three of them away in a locked cabinet, so that was out. He’d have to ask Ford about it once they came back. Which they still hadn’t.

“Can I be Ducktective?” Soos asked, bringing Dipper back to the present.

Mabel promptly put one of the hats on Soos’ head. “Of course you can! Dipper, you want one too?”

Dipper shook his head. “Maybe tomorrow.” He was not in a Ducktective mood.

“Okay.” Mabel pushed a book aside and squeezed herself down on the chair next to Dipper. “But stop worrying, bro-bro.” She might have been reading his mind. “Grunkle Stan and uncle Ford are fine. Grunkle Stan can punch out bears, zombies, gremloblins…” She counted on her fingers.

Dipper grimaced. “I know, but...”

Mabel pressed her shoulder against Dipper’s in lieu of a hug. “It’ll be fine,” she said, softer.

“Hey, doods,” Soos interrupted, pointing at the TV. “I think someone died.”

Both twins tensed for a moment, focusing on the screen.

No, of course it wasn’t about Stan.

“Heh.” Dipper released the breath he’d caught in his throat. “That old mayor… Yeah.”

“Mayor Befufflefumpter was an old and esteemed man,” Soos said solemnly, removing his Ducktective hat in respect.

“He did look kinda dying back at the Northwest party,” Mabel said with a small grin that turned into a grimace. “I mean, more than the rest of us.”

Dipper nodded. “And that was… was that just three days ago?”

“Yeah. Feels like longer.” Mabel frowned. “But at least grunkle Stan isn’t that old! I think.”

“No, he’s got to be—”

Dipper completely forgot what he was about to say when the front door to their left flew open with a bang.

For a moment, Stanford was silhouetted against the low-hanging sun, coat billowing around him and clutching Stan’s duffelbag his arms. The next moment he was gone down the hallway without a word, slamming the door shut behind him again.

No one moved for several moments.

“Where’s Mr Pines?” Soos asked slowly.

Dipper shivered. Uncle Ford, alone, rushing by without a word and without— This was too familiar. Too much like the worst case scenarios he’d been trying not to think about. He licked his lips. “Did anyone see if uncle Ford was…?” The words got stuck in his throat.

“I couldn’t see,” Mabel said quietly. Soos shook his head, too. And if they hadn’t seen his eyes either, then Dipper had to assume the worst.

His hand found Mabel’s, holding it tight. “We need to find out.” He forced himself to slip out of the chair, not sure if he was pulling Mabel along or she was pulling him.

“I’ll protect you!” Soos promised, getting in front of them. “But, uh, where did he go?”

“Maybe to the museum?” Mabel suggested, warily starting to move down the hallway Ford had disappeared into.

Dipper nodded. That was as good a guess as any. He could also have gone to Stan’s workshop, or to the bathroom, or—well, to Ford’s warded study. But if it was Bill, he wouldn’t be able to enter that room, and if it wasn’t Bill, why would he have come alone and ran off without showing his eyes? It was up to the three of them to find him and stop him from whatever he was doing and find out what had happened to—

A new sound behind them made them all jump. Dipper’s heart had already been trying to beat its way out of his chest, and now it seemed to stop completely. Somehow he’d turned around, instinctively clinging to Mabel, and with Soos’ arm lodged between them and the new threat, when he realized what the sound had been. The front door had opened again, less violently this time, and someone else was standing in the doorframe.

“Grunkle Stan!” He and Mabel both ducked under Soos’ arm and threw themselves at him.

“Whoa,” Stan said, awkwardly returning the hug. “Kids, take it easy, I’m—”

“Mr Pines!” Soos threw his arms up. “You’re okay!”

“Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Stan pushed the twins away a bit from himself, then cleared his throat. “Did Ford— I mean, he did get in here, didn’t he? Where did he go?”

Dipper and Mabel pointed down the hall. “He ran past without even looking at us!” Mabel said.

“And we couldn’t see his eyes,” Dipper added.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, looking tired. “Of course. He couldn’t have—” He chuckled slightly. “That’s why you look so spooked?”

Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other, then spoke at the same time.

“You’re saying he’s not—”

“Does that mean he’s—”

“Why did you—”

Stan waved them to silence. The way he seemed more exasperated than alarmed about this was strangely reassuring. “That was Ford, kids.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper’s shoulders might be relaxing a bit, but he still couldn’t help having some doubts.

“Uh-huh.” Stan finally entered the house and closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he scratched the side of his head. “He was pretty distracted – probably didn’t even realize he was scaring you. I bet he went straight for the barrier.”

Dipper could still feel his heart beating too fast, but Stan wouldn’t lie about that. Probably. And if Ford was inside the barrier, then all would be fine.

“See?” Mabel said, maybe to Dipper and maybe to herself. “Everything’s fine.” She started to smile, but then she stopped and stared at Stan. “Wait. Grunkle Stan, you’re bleeding.”

Dipper took a closer look at Stan, and Mabel was right. There was a large matted red-brown stain in his grey hair, like he’d hit his head a while ago. Besides, he realized, Stan’s hawaii shirt was torn at the shoulder and there were several ugly, new-looking bruises on his exposed arms and legs. It looked like he’d been fighting, and without having seen the other guy Dipper wasn’t sure if he’d won or not. Unless the other guy was Ford, and then—

Stan hmphed and picked up his fez from the coat hanger, putting it on his head and hiding the blood. “I knew nothing good could come from leaving the fez at home.”

Mabel took Stan’s arm – putting a hand over a large red bruise – and cradled it. “Did you get into a fight?” she asked. “With uncle Ford? Is that—Is that why you didn’t come back together?”

“What? No, sweetie, we—” Stan stopped with a sigh. “Heck, that’s what it looks like, isn’t it? No, really, Ford is not possessed and we didn’t fight. We actually got along pretty great.” He smiled tiredly.

“But something happened.” Dipper crossed his arms.

Stan shrugged. “Yeah. Most importantly, the demon didn’t destroy the world, the rift is sealed in a superglued briefcase and—” He flashed a grin “—Ford and I still make a pretty good team.” He pulled his arm back from Mabel. “Come on, let’s go see how he’s doing.”

 * * *

Ford locked the door behind him on sheer panicked fumes, the need to hide the rift away overriding all other concerns. There were too many unlocked doors in this house. The front door was unlocked – he didn’t even have the key to the front door. Was it ever locked or could anyone just go inside? What was Stanley thinking?

The liquor cabinet was the only additional lockable space in the room. He had to take the journals out to make the sealed briefcase fit inside, and after relocking the cabinet he ended up sitting on the floor before it, clutching three hand-bound volumes of his own hubris close to his stinging chest.

Trying to breathe. Trying to think.

The light from the stained-glass window above the couch taunted him. He’d boarded that window up – 30 years ago – for a reason. It wasn’t safe.

Someone pulled at the door, and Ford flinched. But it was locked, and no one entered.

“Stanford?”

“Stanley.” Ford let his forehead fall forward against the books he was holding. There were goosebumps running up and down his arms, but at least his voice wasn’t shaking. “Did he follow you?”

“Who?” Dipper’s voice interrupted, and Ford realized with a start that Stanley wasn’t alone. There was a family there, and it wasn’t that he minded their presence necessarily, but their very existence reminded him again of how little control he had of anything. It wasn’t his house. It wasn’t his family. As much as he’d managed to slip back into some kind of comfort zone with Stanley – he wasn’t even sure the 60-year-old man could count as his twin. Nevertheless, the threat to the world was still his responsibility.

“He didn’t follow,” Stanley said. “And if he had, it would have been because he was concerned that you took off like a loon, not because he would actually rob us.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dan hadn’t tried anything, no, but— “He was in contact with Bill!”

“For one dream. He was gonna laugh it off! And then you practically screamed at him that something suspicious is going on!”

Ford snapped his jaws shut at Stanley’s exasperated tone. There was some sense in his brother’s point of view, but only if Dan really had been harmless. But if Ford was right, his reaction had been the only reasonable one. “You can’t know that he would have laughed it off. And even if he would, Bill might contact him again. Or anyone else. Do you understand what that means?”

“Yeah.” Stanley’s voice softened. “Can I—Can we come in?”

Ford stiffened automatically. “Why?”

Because—” Stanley seemed to hesitate. “Please,” he said finally.

Ford couldn’t help a weak smile at that. “You used to hate that word.”

“Still do. But, you know. Could you open the door? Please.”

If Stanley was doing Bill’s bidding, he this would be exactly the kind of manipulation that—

No.

No, Stanley wouldn’t. And Ford knew that perfectly well, especially after everything that had happened today. There was no good reason not to open the door. It was just Stanley and his family. They’d probably go away if he told them to, but that would leave him alone to stew in his own thoughts again, and—did he want that?

He’d been so used to being alone. But everything was different now. He was safe from Bill’s reach in this room. The children had fought for him. And Stanley was—Stanley was back at his side, despite everything, and today they’d been a team again.

He should let them in.

Ford shook his head, squeezed the journals one last time before hiding them under the pile of blankets on the floor next to the couch, then going to open the door.

Stanley was leaning against the doorframe on the other side. He was wearing their father’s fez again, but his expression was one their father would never wear. “Thanks,” he said.

Behind him were Mabel, Dipper and Soos, looking at him with varying degrees of relief. Ford could see all of their eyes, all of them human, though of course that didn’t have to mean anything when Bill could manipulate without possessing. Still. They wouldn’t.

His old twin went past him with a pat on his arm and went to sit on the couch, followed by the others. Ford remained standing, even when Stanley beckoned for him to sit down. No. He needed to explain himself, first.

“Listen, Stanley,” he said, closing the door behind them. “All I’m saying is that you can’t be sure that he was harmless. It would have been easy for him, and he obviously didn’t understand the stakes. You’re not a mind reader – you don’t know how tempted he was to try!”

“True,” Stanley admitted with a small shrug.

“And even if there was no harm done, we shouldn’t have risked accepting that ride.” He gestured with both hands for emphasis. “Anyone could be manipulated by Bill, enough to—”

“Enough to break and enter into an old tourist trap for no reason?” Stanley shook his head. “Because most people wouldn’t. And—” He leaned forward, “—if someone does, we’ll deal with it.”

“But we don’t—”

“Anyway, you scared the kids half to death when you rushed through the door just now,” Stanley interrupted, straightening his back. “They were convinced you were Bill until I showed up.”

Ford blinked, thrown by the sudden information. “Oh.” He’d been focused on getting the rift out of danger – had there been people in the living room? Had they seen him? “I didn’t mean to—I mean—That’s unfortunate.”

“It’s fine, uncle Ford,” Dipper said. He was, indeed, looking rather warily at Ford, but he also had a wry look like he was ashamed of being scared. Like there was no reason to be afraid, when in fact there was every reason.

“No, I—” Ford ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to do better.” It could have been Bill. He needed to make sure it was clear that it wasn’t, next time. Alternatively, just stay in this room. That would be the safer option.

“Hey,” Mabel said. “Can you tell us now what happened to you guys today?”

“Well.” Stanley glanced her, then at Ford. “We ran into Manly Dan on the way back. Turns out he’d just had some kinda dream about Ford’s demon friend.”

Ford flinched. “Don’t call him that.”

“What? Manly Dan?”

Stanley was being flippant, playing stupid, and that was so achingly familiar that Ford had a weird urge to grab the old man before him and give him a noogie. He didn’t. Instead he said, back straight and both hands behind his back, “Bill is not my friend.”

“I know that, Poindexter.”

“But,” Dipper said, “Manly Dan didn’t attack you, right?” His eyes went from Stanley’s obvious bruises to Ford’s tattered clothing and badly hidden bandages.

“Nah, that was something else. Had a run-in with some local weirdness.” To Ford’s great relief, Stanley seemed ready to leave it at that, though the children didn’t appreciate it as much.

“Hey! You promised no more secrets!”

Stanley looked at Ford, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission.

Ford took a deep breath. “Not now,” he said. “Perhaps later.” Perhaps when his mind wasn’t reeling quite so much. Seating himself carefully on Stanley’s other side, he changed the subject to the most important facts. “In any case, I sealed the rift in a sturdier container that will make it more difficult to break. It still exists, and is still a danger if stolen, but it’s—safer than before.”

He swallowed down another unhelpful measure of fear. “But the fact remains that Bill wants it. And you would do well to remember that he could appear in anyone’s dream, trying to deceive or tempt.” He paused, looking at the Dipper, Mabel and Soos. “Have any of you had any strange dreams, or—”

“It’s been my policy since preschool never to listen to the advice of a triangle,” Soos said solemnly. Ford glared at him. This was no joking matter, and it was especially concerning that the young man seemed completely sincere.

Dipper grimaced. “I have bad dreams about Bill all the time,” he admitted, looking very small. Ford lifted a hand to console him, but put it down again. He had no idea how to even start. The boy might even have mundane nightmares about Bill, some of which were now Ford’s fault.

“We all know about Bill.” Mabel said confidently, putting an arm around Dipper’s shoulders. “We’re not going to listen to him, especially not in a dream.”

“Yes.” Ford found himself relaxing slightly. “I know you won’t.” He did know that – and the fact that he was sure about it made it slightly easier to breathe. “But it’s not just you. You see, even if Dan Corduroy didn’t decide to rob us, Bill could—Bill could appear in anyone’s dreams. And if he decides to work on tricking someone—” He stopped, unable to bring himself to say ‘like he worked on me’.

The kids looked reasonably worried at that, but Stanley crossed his arms. “Yeah,” he said. “But hey. It still has to be someone willing to do a robbery, and I’m the closest this town’s got to a professional burglar.” Ford raised his eyebrows at that, making Stanley grin. “And even thirty years ago,” he continued, “I would’ve been kinda put off by the idea of stealing an unopenable briefcase just because some triangular guy in a dream told me to.”

Ford nodded slowly. “That might be true, but—” He hesitated. It might be true for Stanley, but he knew from experience that he couldn’t have said the same for himself. “Someone else may welcome the challenge. Or be convinced that the briefcase contains something they desperately need. Or—I don’t know—have a particular grudge against you and your Mystery Hut!”

“Mystery Shack,” Stanley corrected, completely missing the point. He added, “If it happens, we’ll handle it. I promise you that.”

“There’d be no need to handle it if you’d used the—” Ford mumbled between his teeth, but Stanley heard and interrupted him.

“Don’t.” The word hung in the air for a moment until Ford relented with a sigh, leaning back and turning his eyes to the ceiling.

Stanley gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Just—” Ford took a deep breath. “Just be careful. We don’t know who Bill might try to manipulate.”

“Yes, young-Mr-Pines, Sir!” Soos said with a clumsy salute, still looking completely serious. Ford tried not to scowl. The young man whose relationship to Stanley still hadn’t been properly explained to him seemed simple, but might easily be the weakest link in their defenses.

Dipper chose this moment to square his shoulders and straighten his back. “Uncle Ford!” he said. “Do you want to play Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons with me?”

Ford blinked as he switched gears, as he admitted to himself that yes, he wanted to. The very mention of the game made the corners of his mouth want to curl into a smile, and after a moment he gave in to it. He’d been looking forward to it. He was still alive, still somewhat sane, and—this place was as safe as it was going to be. There was still danger, and playing a game was selfish and irresponsible in the face of that, but—

But he wanted more than anything to allow himself to get lost in a harmless, nostalgic fantasy world with neat statistical values. And he could. “I would love to.”

Stanley whistled. “There’s hope for you yet, ya big nerd,” he said fondly.

Dipper made a little excited jump in the couch, marred by small wince and touching his ribs, but his smile didn’t falter. “I’ll go get the books!” He hurriedly left the room, returning quickly with a set of rulebooks, character sheets, graph paper, DM screens, dice and other game pieces that he set down in Ford’s lap.

“Look, here, I made a bunch of characters that are kind of based on us, and some monsters here, and I’ve been thinking about what kind of dungeon we should play, and I was hoping you could be the DM, but—”

Ford flipped through the core rulebook while listening to Dipper’s thoughts about the game. Dipper might be a child, but he certainly knew his way around Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons. There was something so normal about his excitement, about the idea of running a dungeon for him, something that felt like a breeze of fresh air across Ford’s murky mind.

It was okay. Bill could not and would not reach him right now.

Soos departed for wherever it was he lived before long, and Stanley said something about food and disappeared for the kitchen. Mabel was on her way to leave the room, too, but Dipper just looked silently at her – and then she stayed, settling by the desk and starting to draw some kind of bird on a piece of paper.

Something clenched inside Ford when he realized that Dipper’s rulebook didn’t actually have the same rules he knew. Even DDD was different from his game. He pushed the stinging feeling away – he could handle this – this was what he had to work with if he wanted to play with Dipper. The new rules mostly made sense and were in some ways actually more efficient than the ones Ford knew. In fact, if he’d stopped to think about it, using his mind for something as completely frivolous as memorizing new game mechanics was like a palate cleanser. An easy and thoroughly accomplishable task, for once. He was still tired, and hurt, but all of that was shuffled off to the back of his mind as he started to focus on the fantasy.

Dipper assured him that he knew the rule book well enough that Ford could always ask him about the specifics, so it took no more than ten or fifteen minutes for Ford to feel confident enough to run a basic dungeon. The boy had been making characters, so he already had a halfling ranger ready for himself, and an elven wizard NPC that he’d made for Ford. In fact, he had made a whole stack of character sheets, but one PC and one NPC for support was enough to run a simple adventure. This would be a test run.

Stanley interrupted them with “food for the nerds” – some macaroni and cheese for the children and another canned soup for Ford – but after eating, they were ready to start. Ford sat down straight-backed on the floor, closed his eyes for a moment and tried to recall how to set a scene. The traditional taverna. Rowdy NPCs imparting information. A kidnapped princess and directions to the evil mage’s lair.

Ford had expected himself to be rusty at first, but somehow, the game flowed.

Dipper was a bright player, using his character’s abilities to the best effect, and always willing to be thorough in his exploration. He did indeed have a good grasp of the minutiae of the rules, but he avoided exploiting them in ways that didn’t make sense. It was a joy to see him think and fight his way past the monsters and traps, and Ford could keep his wizard NPC mostly to support spells, discussion of worldbuilding details, and kindly mentor advise.

When Dipper at one point was stumped by a trap, his sister unexpectedly appeared from the sidelines and pointed out a solution Ford hadn’t even thought about.

“I didn’t think you wanted to play!” Dipper said, surprised.

“Nah, I’m not playing, just helping you out!” she said. “By the way,” she added, “You should try to use that magic mirror you found upside down. See what happens!”

Clever. Judging by Dipper’s frown that variation wasn’t in the rulebook, but Ford could see how it would make a difference. And even more interestingly – in order to have made such an observation, she must have been following the game rather closely for a while.

Dipper didn’t seem to mind his sister’s input as they went on. On the contrary, they made a good team. If DDD had even existed when Stanford and Stanley were their age, Ford could easily imagine Stanley refusing to play but then jumping in like this – a painful thought in all its warmth. The game had been published only after Stanley had been gone. And he seriously doubted—well, the present-day Stanley would surely not even consider it.

In any case, Mabel was creative, and Ford saw no reason why she shouldn’t be a player.

The short dungeon he’d set out to run for Dipper was almost over, but Ford felt inspired to continue, so he turned to the girl and asked her if she wanted to be the princess.

“Wasn’t the princess kidnapped?”

“She might have already escaped. If you want to play her, that is.”

“Well…” She frowned. “I don’t want to do any math homework! I’m just here to help Dipper’s character out of trouble. Or into trouble!”

“Then do that as your own character,” Ford encouraged her. “I’m sure Dipper can handle all your dice rolls and calculations”

“Yes, of course!” Dipper agreed. “Come on, Mabel! I have a character here for you and everything!” He pulled out a halfling bard from the pile of character sheets. “I didn’t know she was a princess, but I suppose—”

Mabel pursed her mouth. “Can I have purple hair and gemstones in my eyes?”

“Uh.” That sounded painful. “You can, if you want to.”

“Okay!”

Ford told her that the princess had been able to escape on her own, but she’d overheard the evil mage talking about his plans to lure adventurers into a trap and use their brains for a nefarious potion to give himself the power to conquer the world. She was now running through the dungeon when she stumbled upon Dipper’s character.

Mabel obviously had the ability to get massively in character if she wanted to. She told the story of the mage’s evil plan in a lot more detail than Ford had, gesturing wildly for emphasis. “This means we gotta stop that evil wizard guy and save all the people he’s already captured!” She physically pulled at Dipper’s vest. “Come on, we have to hurry before he eats their brains!”

Ford improvised a second dungeon on top of the first one, this one being the mage’s actual castle. The enemies here were stronger and the layout more convoluted, but with Mabel as an active player, the adventurer party was also stronger and more unpredictable.

The first time he made a zombie come lumbering towards them, Dipper immediately took on a fighting stance, but Mabel looked excited.

“I’m a princess bard, right? So I’ll sing at it! If it doesn’t work, you two will have to sing with me!”

Ford raised his eyebrows. He’d seen real life zombies defeated by song, but in the context of the game, he’d never heard of it. “Are there any zombie-defeating bard songs in this version of the game?” he asked Dipper. “Or should we—”

“We’ll make one up,” Dipper decided. “What do you call it, Mabel?”

“The Song of Triple Rainbow Light,” she replied with a zombie-killing grin.

Ford and Dipper quickly agreed on some spell stats and added it to her character sheet while Mabel described colorfully how it looked and sounded. Rolling the die, the song didn’t defeat the zombie on its own, but it weakened it enough that Dipper could vanquish it the next round. The kids hi-fived.

“Way easier than real zombies,” Dipper said, but before Ford could think to ask him about it, Mabel pulled their adventuring party along, wanting to know what was ahead.

What was ahead was the literal dungeon, a row of prison cells. The first one was ominously empty.

Ford looked up for a moment, and Stanley unexpectedly met his eyes from the couch. How long had he been sitting there? A small shiver ran over Ford as he realized that he was so caught up in the game that he hadn’t even noticed his brother’s presence. And if he didn’t notice what was going on around him, how could he be ready if—

“Hey, Ford?” Stanley said.

“Yes?”

“Think there’s any other prisoners in any of those cells?”

Ford blinked. Had Stanley been paying attention? “Well, the players haven’t checked yet, so—” He’d been thinking about adding a cleric to the party before the confrontation with the evil mage, but it wasn’t absolutely necessary. “Why do you ask?”

Stanley’s eyes flicked to the side. “No reason.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Only. Maybe there’s some big strong fighter type who ended up in wizard jail through no fault of his own and would be willing to help a couple of kids out with the monster punching business. And gathering pretend treasure. Hypothetically.”

Ford stared at him.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper squeaked. “Are you going to join us?”

“Yeah, well, can’t let you pipsqueaks have all the fun without me, can I?” He grimaced. “And you can stop staring, Sixer. This doesn’t mean I’m a nerd, just that I’m willing to try it out. Ok?”

Ford might possibly have been literally beaming. “Of course,” he said weakly. There was something suspiciously like real happiness surging through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it. “Dipper, you had a fighter character based on Stanley ready, didn’t you?”

Adding Stanley to the party made it easier for the adventurers to take on multiple enemies at once, which was good, because Stanley tended to favor a brute force solution to every situation, being loud and boisterous and more than a little bit reckless. Sometimes it didn’t work, but Ford was rather certain he chose to play this way on purpose. At one point he ended up in a trap and made the kids laugh with his daring playing-with-death slapstick antics.

It was fun.

It took all of his focus away from everything else to the point where he didn’t even remember to question it, and it was fun.

The final confrontation with the evil mage became tense – a few unfortunate dice rolls disabled Mabel’s and Ford’s characters and severely wounded Dipper’s – and Ford was already thinking of ways to salvage this in case it ended in a TPK. At that point Stanley announced that he’d put his character’s every point into an insanely risky move that would involve channeling power that he really wasn’t made to channel. The chances of succes would be abysmal, but if successful, Ford conceded it might be their only chance to take the mage down once and for all before the whole party was vanquished.

Afterwards, Ford suspected Stanley might have cheated on the die roll. It didn’t matter. He saw it roll, and he saw it land on a perfect natural 38, saving the day and the game, and all he could do was laugh.

It was hours past midnight when they stopped playing, but for once Ford was just comfortably tired rather than exhausted. The kids were yawning but happy. Stanley decided without objections from anyone to bring a few raggedy old mattresses and bedclothes down and let all of them sleep right here in Ford’s room.

Ford fell asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes, and slept until noon. If he dreamt, he had no memories of it.

[noodleroni2]

Signs as things in Tyzias' cup

Aries: Dirt

Arcses: Holy water

Arruis: O B L O N G M E A T P R O D U C T

Ariborn: Sweat, blood, and tears

Arittarius: Nothing, it's empty

Arpia: Carrot juice

Arza: Milk

Arga: Trail mix

Aro: A mixture of bleach and Windex

Arcen: Hot Cocoa

Armini: Peach tea

Arun: Redbull

Arist: Sprite Syrup

Arsci: Radiation-filled sewage

Arnius: Rocks and small pebbles

Aricorn: The only trace of Dad he left behind, a smaller cup

Arittanius: A pocket dimension

Arpio: Apple cider

Arra: Rubbing alcohol

Argo: Corn starch

Arlo: Sand

Arcer: Coffee with so much creamer you can't consider it coffee anymore

Armino: Wires

Arus: Howie Mandel pee

Taurus: Juice that makes you stare at gay people

Taurist: Money

Taursci: Blood

Taurnius: A mixture of every drink you can get at Starbucks

Tauricorn: Lemonade

Taurittanius: Ambergris

Taurpio: Pure caffeine

Taurra: Those little capsules with the dinosaur sponges in them

Taurgo: Red wine

Taurlo: Glitter

Taurcer: The bug soup that was in Dammek's house (he couldn't've ACTUALLY been eating bugs, could he?)

Taurmino: Tears

Taurun: Lava

Tauries: Not very good green tea

Taursces: Really old pool water

Taurrius: Toilet paper dissolved in water

Tauriborn: Ramune

Taurittaruis: The blood of a mountain goat

Taurpia: A root beer float

Taurza: Watered down soda

Taurga: Nothing, the cup hasn't been used in so long there's still dust on the inside

Tauro: Instagram slime

Taurcen: Glue

Taurmini: Fish tank water

Gemini: "Kool-Aide"

Gemun: Spiders

Gemries: Mountain dew with crushed Doritos for garnish

Gemsces: Chai tea

Gemrius: The blood of Shigeru Miyamoto

Gemiborn: Pumpkin Spice Latte™

Gemittarius: Book juice

Gempia: Water

Gemza: Boba tea

Gemga: Rice with a LOT of soy sauce

Gemo: Smart Water™

Gemcen: Red Faygo that tastes like cough syrup

Gemino: Period blood

Gemus: Howie Mandel pee

Gemrist: Lotion

Gemsci: Wet cement

Gemnius: Your first born child

Gemicorn: Shit

Gemittanius: Saltwater

Gempio: Honey

Gemra: Mexican hot chocolate with a little TOO much cayenne pepper

Gemgo: Pure fuel™

Gemlo: A spleen

Gemcer: Carrot Juice

Cancer: Rainbows

Camino: Friendship

Canus: Very tiny cats

Canrist: Goo

Cansci: Paint water

Cannius: Fiber powder

Canicorn: Ectoplasm

Canittanius: Justice

Canpio: The blood of people who don't care for law

Canra: Hair

Cango: Apple juice

Canlo: Lemonade

Cancen: Stomach acid

Camini: Piña Colada

Canun: Polluted rainwater

Canries: You don't want to know

Cansces: Motivation

Canruis: The souls of the innocent

Caniborn: Weed

Canittarius: Lean

Canpia: Punch

Canza: Fingernails

Canga: Glass

Cano: Vodka

Leo: Anxiety

Lecen: Prozac

Lemini: Matcha Tea

Leun: LCD

Leries: Nitroglycerin

Lesces: Cyanide

Lerius: Saliva

Leiborn: Piss

Leittarius: Horse shit

Lepia: Troll ass

Leza: Penises harvested from the penis tree

Lega: The sweat of her favorite politician

Lelo: Chicken soup

Lecer: Popeye's™ Red Beans and Rice

Lemino: Sweet tea (ew)

Leus: Peach tea (unsweetened)

Lerist: Peach tea (sweetened)

Lesci: Fingers and toes

Lenius: Terezi's glasses

Leicorn: Bullets

Leittanius: Chalk

Lepio: Cans with questionable contents

Lera: All of her sins

Lego: Legos

Virgo: The Void

Virlo: Cereal

Vercer: Fiberglass

Virmino: Holographic Nail Powder

Virus: Dog residue

Virist: ROOT BEEERRRRRRRRRR

Virsci: Here's your easteregg for the post: Did you know that the backtrack for Dove and Grenade by Hollywood Undead is actually just Undertaker (Renholder Mix) by Puscifer.

Virnius: Equius' sweat

Viricorn: Grease

Virittanius: A Jaeger Bomb

Virpio: Rotting meat

Virra: A puppy, whenever she takes a sip she's actually kissing it on its little head

Virga: Whatever the first result of searching "Strawberry Drink" on pinterest is

Viro: Her notes

Vircen: Lotion

Virmini: Perfume

Virun: Vinegar

Viries: The water in the Great Fairy Fountain

Virsces: A kitten, whenever she takes a sip she's actually kissing it on its little head

Virrius: Mercury

Viriborn: Alphabet soup

Virittarius: Salad dressing

Virpia: A martini

Virza: Kool-aid that's been left out so long it's grown mold

Libra: JUST1C3

Ligo: Anime

Liblo: Ranch

Licer: Water. We all know it's water.

Limino: A copy of SBURB

Libus: Ink

Librist: Mallek cause he's so GODDAMN TINY

Libsci: M&M's

Libnius: Melted chocolate

Libicorn: Glitter

Libittanius: Sequins

Lipio: The cure for blindness

Libza: A few kilos of cocaine

Liga: Betelgeuse

Libo: Fire

Licen: Slop

Limini: Cockwaffle

Libun: ...Syrup?

Libries: the fact that i almost spelt cocaine as conaine on libza

Libsces: i cant physically finish this. ive run out of things to put in her cup. i have a migraine. theres probably so many typos. ive had this in my drafts for months.

Librius:

Libiborn:

Libittarius:

Lipia:

Scorpio: The water inside of a Magic 8 ball

Scorra: De-caf (It's not like it's REAL coffee)

Scorgo: The syrup that goes into fizzy water to make soda

Scorlo: airpods

Scorcer:

Scormino:

Scorus:

Scorist:

Scorsci:

Scornius:

Scoricorn: hey, thats me!

Scorittanius:

Scorpia:

Scorza:

Scorga:

Scoro:

Scorcen:

Scormini:

Scorun:

Scories:

Scorsces:

Scorrius:

Scoriborn:

Scorittarius:

Sagittarius:

Sagipia:

Sagiza:

Sagiga:

Sagio:

Sagicen:

Sagimini:

Sagiun:

Sagiries:

Sagisces:

Sagirius:

Sagiborn:

Sagittanius:

Sagipio:

Sagira:

Sagigo:

Sagilo:

Sagicer:

Sagimino:

Saguis:

Sagirist:

Sagisci:

Saginius:

Sagicorn: Nails (from fingers AND the kind you put in walls)

Capricorn: The Limited Edition™ Starbucks Unicorn Frappucino

Caprittanius:

Capripio:

Caprira:

Caprigo:

Caprilo:

Capricer:

Caprimino:

Caprius: A delicious tiny ripe for the voring

Caprist: Oh god what was I thinking, doing that above one?

Caprisci:

Caprinius:

Capriborn:

Caprittarius:

Capripia:

Capriza:

Capriga:

Caprio:

Capricen:

Caprimini:

Capriun:

Capries:

Capricses:

Capririus:

Aquarius:

Aquiborn:

Aquittarius:

Aquapia:

Aquaza:

Aquaga:

Aquo:

Aquacen:

Aquamini:

Aquiun:

Aquaries:

Aquasces:

Aquanius:

Aquicorn:

Aquittanius:

Aquapio:

Aquara:

Aquara:

Aquago:

Aqualo:

Aquacer:

Aquamino:

Aquius:

Aquarist:

Aquasci:

Pisces:

Pirius:

Piborn:

Pittarius:

Pipia:

Piza:

Piga:

Pio:

Picen:

Pimini:

Piun:

Piries:

Pisci:

Pinius:

Picorn:

Pittanius:

Pipio:

Pira:

Pigo:

Pilo:

Picer:

Pimino:

Pius:

Pirist: see libsces

[alexjosephalex-blog]

Why Unicorns Are Ruling The Roost In The Start-up Ecosystem

‘Be a unicorn in a field of horses.’

We are in an era where the start-up ecosystem is inundated with unicorns, with horses left behind far enough in the fields to graze! A unicorn is a privately-held start-up/company which is valued at over $1Bn. As the valuation of these unicorns rises, so do their names – a pentacorn is valued at over $5Bn, a decacorn is a company with valuation over $10Bn, and a hectacorn is valued at over $100Bn. Interestingly, unlike an established company’s valuation which is based on past years’ performances, a start-up’s valuation is arrived at through its growth opportunities and expected long term development for its potential market.

While the term was coined in 2013 by Aileen Lee comparing these rare companies to the mythical creature, unicorns have only multiplied exponentially, especially in the past 5 years. As of January 2019, the number of unicorns stands at a whopping 335, with a total cumulative valuation of ~$1090Bn, according to CBInsights.

The Unicorn Landscape

In the last 5 years, the Unicorn club in the startup ecosystem has seen exponential growth, with a hockey stick rise, in terms of the number of companies formed. Verticals such as TravelTech, Enterprise Software, and eCommerce/Marketplace are home to a large number of unicorns. When it comes to capital, unicorns have leveraged a diverse group of non-traditional investors such as public market funds, along with micro-investors like angels and accelerators across growth stages to reach the hallowed halls of the Unicorn club.

Historical data suggests that technological innovations have given birth to unicorns, a phenomenon that has reached its peak in recent years. However, as more technological innovations come to the fore, more unicorns are being birthed. But, in the recent past, being part of the Unicorn club hasn’t been all that rare, because of the sheer number currently in existence. While the US housed the most number of unicorns till about 2015, geographies such as China, India, and the UK are homes to unicorns today. In fact, 63% of unicorns established from 2012 to 2017 are outside of the US.

Unicorns and Traditional Industries

Unicorns have disrupted several traditional industries, as a direct consequence of global user base, optimizations in technology product development, and a change in customer mindset to adapt to new products. A few prominent examples include Uber disrupting the traditional taxi industry, Airbnb disrupting the lodging industry, and with a lean team of 50 engineers, WhatsApp disrupting the telecom industry in less than 4 years.

Verticals such as automotive, telecom, media & entertainment, retail, enterprise software, and healthcare & pharma are leading the pack with a large number of unicorns. From sharing economy to OTT to personalization to immersive experience, unicorns have caused disruptions and put customer experience and expectation at the core.

All that glitters is not gold

One of the primary aspects fueling the growth of unicorns is the investment that is being pumped into these companies. A varied set of investors, ranging from angel investors to public market funds – mutual funds and hedge funds, to venture capital firms to corporate venture arms have invested in unicorns. While these investments are propelling these companies to taste stratospheric growth in a compressed time frame, there have been some serious concerns as well.

One example is Square, which priced its IPO at $9 a share in November 2016, well under the $15+ that private investors paid the year before. Though the share price did rise during the IPO, the firm’s valuation leveled off at around $4Bn, just two-thirds of the $6Bn that Square was valued at.

Theranos is another exalted unicorn which fell flat early on. Started in 2003, by a then-19-year-old Stanford dropout, Elizabeth Holmes, Theranos was the blood testing start-up that had everyone hankering to get a piece of. Theranos, once valued at a whopping $9Bn, came under repeated fire for vaunted core technology, unreliable results, questionable methodology, and inadequately trained staff. Following a furor over the false claims of the breakthrough technology used as well as the very small amounts of blood required for the tests, the company was shut and its assets subsequently liquidated.

The large investments being made in unicorns are eerily similar to the infamous tech bubble era of the mid-nineties. Many unicorns, though valued in excess of $1+Bn, are operating at low revenues and fewer customers. Additionally, some of the unicorns that have gone public, have posted poor post IPO performance which further cement the comparison to the dot com bubble era.

Despite these missteps by some unicorns, these high valuation companies are real, much bigger, and different than the failures of pre-2000 era. Three key factors are shaping the stratospheric growth of these unicorns –

a) Larger addressable markets: Since inception, unicorns are targeting global markets. Additionally, 3.9Bn people who have access to the Internet and are spending close to $3Tn online, the world has truly become flat.  b) Higher revenues before IPO: Today, unicorns are posting higher revenue growths before filing for IPOs than the younger companies of the Internet bubble era. In the pre-2000 era, 65% of investments were funneled into companies that were less than 3 years old, while in 2016, 80+% of current investments were made in 3+ year-old companies. c) Born global: Unicorns and other start-ups are accessing global markets and targeting multiple industries in the early growth stages itself, thus casting a wider net to gain customer access. They are leveraging a much larger customer base across global markets, across verticals such as TravelTech, Food delivery, AutoTech, and Aerospace.

Key Enablers and Growth Drivers of Unicorns

Besides the broad level factors outlined above, three key enablers are further fueling the seemingly sudden explosion of unicorns, thus making it easier for young companies to scale up in a short time frame –

a) Digital Disruption: Digital technologies have impacted businesses, irrespective of verticals. In fact, every business is transforming into a digital business. Companies leveraging digital technologies to disrupt key industry verticals has been the modus operandi of most members of the hallowed Unicorn club. Digital technologies have also enabled companies to provide personalized experiences to customers (through mobile), develop products through agile processes (cloud), and take data-driven decisions in real-time (big data and social).  The impact of digital is far-reaching and is being felt by large organizations as well. They are establishing new age business units that are focused on digital platforms. General Electric (GE) set up a digital business unit, GE Digital, to compete in the IoT market with IBM and other large analytics players. Walmart established Walmart Labs to develop technologies and solutions for its global eCommerce business.  b) Open Innovation Ecosystem: In the wake of start-ups – especially unicorns – disrupting the way traditional organizations across verticals operate, these organizations have realized the potential of working with unicorns. Hence, large organizations are creating a viable ecosystem for start-ups to prosper and grow through multiple avenues such as venture arms, accelerators, mentorship support, etc. Further, the democratization of computing through cloud computing and open-source platforms have enabled organizations to scale rapidly with limited capital budgets.  Large R&D spenders are building the core infrastructure and platforms across emerging technologies to enable newer companies to invest in vertical use cases. Additionally, these large spenders are also creating an open innovation ecosystem through multiple avenues such as accelerators and venture arms, which provide specific support in areas such as product GTM, customer and investor connect, business and technology mentorship, ecosystem partnerships, to name a few. c) Favorable Funding Environment: Several reasons have laid the ground for creating a favorable funding environment for the exponential growth of start-ups.  (i) The lower interest rates set by the Federal Reserve since 2009 have pushed a large number of investors into the private market. This has propelled the rise in participation from micro-investors like angels and accelerators, who are investing in numerous start-ups, which promise higher returns than conventional investment channels.  (ii) Late-stage investment valuations have been fueled by the interest of mutual funds and hedge funds in the private market. Also, the private market is yielding higher returns to investors than the public stock market. (iii) Near-zero interest rates are driving investments away from bonds and fixed-income securities into start-ups that promise higher returns.

In a time when unicorns and start-ups are rewriting the rules of the game and are bigger, faster, and better than ever before, traditional organizations have their work cut out for them. It’s a game of do or die, with very little room for the in-betweeners – those that are barely in the game, playing safe. Unicorns are here to stay, and their ilk will only grow and expand in the years to come. With the average age of an S&P company bottoming out at a mere 20 years, traditional companies need to gear up and build a moat around their business – stat!

[opheliadawnwalker3]

Preview for “Break”

Second submission for Ash’s 2k Challenge for the prompt Negan /Rosita. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list!

Synopsis: After the events of episode 8 “Hearts Still Beating”, Negan decides to take Rosita along with Eugene back to the Sanctuary. For her punishment, the Savior leader is determined to break her down. Inch by excruciating inch. 

Contains: angst, mental and physical torture, violence, typical Negan unpleasantness and language. No smut this time.

Rosita trembled, pulling her bare legs in to hug her knees. The cold, unforgiving cement wall pressed against her back. She must have been here for days. Or was it weeks? Months? She wasn’t sure. She had lost any concept of time long ago. The tiny cell she had been thrown into offered no light or any semblance of comfort. There was nothing. No windows, no bed. Just a rusted bucket in the corner for her to relieve herself. The smell alone was enough to make her retch violently. No, cell was too nice of a word for it. It was a tomb. Would she die here? She felt like she would.

The young woman licked her dry, cracked lips, her throat, raw from screaming, already begging for more water. But he always made sure to give her just enough to survive but never enough to be satisfied. The darkness loomed around her, suffocating her. The bleak deafening quiet slowly chipping away at her very sanity. Rosita could still feel the abrasions on her knuckles from when she repeatedly punched the wall, in a moment of enraged desperation. If there were any light, specks of her dried blood would be seen painted on the walls. Her long ebony hair hung down in greasy tendrils and her dirty, unwashed skin itched so badly , she longed to tear it off. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably within her, emitting a pitiful growl and she tried to adjust her position to relieve some of the pain. She was slowly going mad and she knew it. She could practically feel the cracks beginning to form as time dragged on.

After she had tried to kill Negan back at Alexandria, the Savior leader surprisingly listened to her miserable begging for them to take her instead. Of course, Negan wasn’t simply going to relinquish a rare find like Eugene, simply because she pleaded. So he took them both. For what reason at the time, she didn’t know. But now she did. Rosita was insurance. Just like Daryl was.

At least he got away.

Rosita felt her lips chapped lips curl weakly. When they had arrived back at the Sanctuary, one of the Saviors informed Negan that Daryl had escaped, killing one of the Saviors in the process. Her smugness was short lived, as Negan immediately turned on her to take his rage. He ordered her stripped down to just her panties and tank top and thrown in a cell. No visitors except him. No light. No noise. No contact whatsoever. Except him.

Rosita clenched her teeth, feeling her bloodied hands curl into her legs, nails threatening to pierce the skin. Everyday…or at least it seemed so. She couldn’t tell anymore. He would visit her with a single biscuit filled with a disgusting meat and one bottle of water. He’d taunt her a little, Lucille always by his side, threatening but never using it. Then he would always ask the same question.

Who are you?

She knew what answer he wanted. It was obvious. But every time, Rosita forced herself to say her own name instead. She’d be damned if she’d ever give in to him. At least…that’s what she told herself at first.  But it was getting more and more difficult to remain defiant.  Several days in complete isolation, little food and water, darkness and extreme unhygienic conditions can begin to degrade even the strongest and most stubborn of minds. Her own birth given name had become a curse, condemning her further to her wretched situation.

Rosita hated it, but a small part of her breaking mind had begun to crave Negan’s visits. In a morbid way, she looked forward to them. If nothing else, but because she was starved. For food. For drink. For contact. For conversation of any kind.

She loathed him. Despised him with every fiber of her being. For what he’s done. The lives he took. But a depraved part of herself still needed him. And she hated herself for that.

Taglist: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @xdaddy-neganx, @smuttwd, @unicorn-blood-splatter, @fangirlindenial, @negans-dirty-girl, @ofdragonsanddreams16, @myheart4ever47, @hannibalssweaters, @prettyepiic, @haley-the-human, @lucifers-trash-stash, @kellyn1604, @neganscatleesi

[domain-of-friendship-blog]

Episode 4-3

The long rays of the evening sun streamed in through Scarlet's window.

Curled up on her bed, she idly turned the pages of a book propped up against her pillow. She wasn't actually reading any of it; it was just something to do while she sat there, consumed by her thoughts.

Under different circumstances, she likely would have been more than happy to be here. Equestria was a fine place to live, all things considered - plenty to do, lots to see, and a great many wonderful people to meet.

But it wasn't home.

Home was something out of her reach now. She hadn't been willing to admit it to herself, but the work she had been doing with Twilight didn't feel like progress. They were learning a lot about teleportation, space folding, and even multiverse theory... but it just wasn't going where it needed to. Anytime it looked like they were close to a breakthrough, it would turn out to require something a million miles out of reach.

Plain teleportation was too obvious, of course. The amount of magic required increased exponentially with the distance traveled, and the distance separating realities themselves was theoretically infinite.

Why there was a book on wormholes in a small town library was anyone's guess, but that was no help either. The idea of creating one with a particular endpoint was laughable at best - not to mention it would take the combined power of twenty Princess Celestias just to stabilize it enough to travel through without being ripped apart by extradimensional forces.

What hurt the most was the complete lack of any clues explaining how they had been brought to this world to begin with; if it had been a spell of some sort, it would be a straightforward (if laborious) matter to reverse-engineer and redirect it.

Maybe...

Maybe there was a way to reason with Discord?

As distasteful as the idea sounded, even in her head, she couldn't bring herself to let go of it. The more she considered it, however, the less viable it seemed. They had returned him to his stone prison, and thus already done their worst; no threat would give them any leverage, now. She couldn't ask the princess to offer him his freedom as a bargaining chip either, as that would leave them in the very situation she had fought to prevent.

Scarlet heaved a noisy sigh and rolled onto her back. Was there a point to any of this? Learning more seemed almost counterproductive - instead of leading her closer and closer to an answer, all it served to do was show her a wide array of closed-off avenues, all the possibilities that weren't going to work.

"...let! Scarlet!"

A voice called to her from below the stairs. She ignored it, even as she knew that wouldn't make it go anyway. She just couldn't be bothered to care.

"Scar... let..." Spike panted as he climbed the last of the spiral stairs. "Come... quick..."

Scarlet sighed quietly, her gaze pointed at the ceiling but not really looking at it. "Unless this is urgent, I would like to be left alone."

"Just... gimme a sec..." Spike paused for a moment, leaning on the railing as he caught his breath.

That seemed a little strange. Why was he so winded? She sat up halfway to look at him. "Wait... Spike, is something the - "

"There's a monster!" Spike failed his arms. "A giant monster's in town, and it's got Twilight!"

Scarlet leapt instantly to her hooves and whirled around, the sudden movement knocking over her book. "Where? Where is it?"

"In - in front of the library!"

Scarlet leapt from the bed and snatched up Spike in her magic, placing him on her back. "Hold fast," she whispered.

Spike blinked. "Huh?"

A glow enveloped Scarlet's horn. Hardly a second later, in a flash of light, she and her passenger vanished from the bedroom and reappeared instantly in front of the library.

Slightly dizzy, Scarlet shook her head. "Ugh... does that have to be so disorienting...?"

"I, uh... I know what you mean..."

Spike toppled off Scarlet's back and landed in the dirt, his eyes unfocused and swirling.

"Oh dear," said Scarlet. "My apologies..."

In glancing down at him, however, she noticed the large shadow in which she now stood, and raised her gaze toward the figure casting it.

Backlit as it was by the setting sun, Scarlet couldn't make out most of its features, but she could tell several things about it immediately. One, it was distressingly large, nearly half the total volume of the library beside it. Two, the size of its limbs, head, and maw was no less distressing, giving it the appearance of a sort of mutated dragon. Three, the aforementioned maw held an occupant, a purple unicorn currently struggling for her life.

Scarlet gasped, staggering back in alarm. "Twilight!"

"Nngh...!" Try as she might, Twilight's panicked flailing did nothing to dislodge her from the monster's jaws. "Scarlet! It's - it's too strong, I can't - ugh..." She slipped an inch further. "It's too late! You need to... ugh... get out of here! Hurry!"

"No!" Scarlet yelled, shaking her head. "Hang on! I can still save you!"

"I can't, I... I'm slipping...!"

With a gasp, Twilight slid down the monster's gullet and out of sight, her terrified screaming soon swallowed up with the rest of her.

"TWILIGHT, NO!!"

Scarlet's blood went cold.

This couldn't be happening.

The monster wasn't even moving. Was it satisfied now? Had it eaten other ponies along the way, or was Twilight somehow its only target?

It didn't change much at that moment.

"You have made your last mistake, beast!" Ignoring the tears running down her face, Scarlet began to concentrate. She reared up on her hind legs, her horn lighting up in an ominous midnight blue.

"GIVE HER BACK!"

Her hooves struck the dirt. The ground shook.

High above Ponyville, several objects that hadn't been there a moment prior began plummeting. The meteors glowed, picking up speed as they fell toward their target. Just as they reached terminal velocity, they struck the monster one after another, tearing through its body like tissue paper and kicking up a cloud of dust and debris that obscured the remains.

Scarlet collapsed as the glow left her horn. In its place was a scorch mark that ran almost to the base. Reaching up with a trembling hoof, she rubbed her horn gingerly, wincing at the painful mana burn; that would be her last spell for at least a couple of days.

Climbing back up on all fours, she stared at the scene before her. A pile of shattered rocks and a cloud of dust was all she could see; there was no sign of the monster... or of her friend.

She took a step forward. "Twilight...?"

There was no reply.

She stepped forward again, her eyes scanning the rocky debris for any signs of life. "Twilight, are you alright? Please, say something... anything...!"

The tears continued to flow. She wasn't sure if they had ever stopped.

Slowly, the breeze blew the dust away to reveal a glowing hemisphere of magenta encapsulating a completely unscathed Twilight Sparkle.

"Whoo! That was a doozy," said Twilight, shaking her head as her shield dissipated. "You have got to teach me that one sometime. A spell like that could oof"

Twilight staggered a bit as a red missile shot toward her in the form of a thoroughly relieved Scarlet, who immediately wrapped her in a fierce hug.

"It's okay, Scarlet," breathed Twilight, gently stroking Scarlet's mane. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. You did it."

Scarlet slowly released her grip. "But... what was it I did, exactly? What was all that?"

Twilight smiled, pointing a hoof behind the library.

"Um, Twilight? I could use a little help..."

Pinkie Pie stood flanked by stacks of newspapers and an array of half-empty paint cans. Several pages of newspaper were stuck to her mane and body via globs of still-drying paste. She shook each leg one after the next in an attempt to dislodge some of them, but her efforts had no visible effect.

"The 'monster' was made of papier-mache," said Twilight. "I was never in any danger."

"Wh, but - yes, you were!" Scarlet scowled, glancing up at her scorched horn. "That was the most powerful spell I know. It could have killed you."

"And that was the most powerful shield I know." Twilight plucked a dusty, half-torn scroll from the debris and showed it to Scarlet. "I wrote it myself. I've got a good feel for how your spells work after all the testing we've done together, so I tuned it to protect against you specifically."

Scarlet stared at the scroll for a moment, her eyes narrowing as her gaze met Twilight's once more. "So then," she growled, "was this a prank?"

Twilight flinched. "No, no, of course not! I would never!"

"Then you have not answered my question," said Scarlet.

Twilight smiled, putting a hoof on Scarlet's chest. "It was a reminder of your real strength."

Scarlet blinked. "I... do not follow."

"Ooh! Is it time?"

Spike, who had been watching the scene unfold from a safe distance, ran up to the pair. A golden necklace with an empty gem setting glittered in his claws.

"I think it is, Spike," said Twilight. "Pinkie?"

"Just - oof - a minute! I need to - waugh!"

Her hind legs cemented together by a particularly persistent patch of paste, Pinkie's attempt to join the group was cut short when she lost her balance and flopped on her belly in the dirt.

With a giggle, Twilight fired a bolt of magic from her horn. All the paste and newspaper stuck to Pinkie dissolved. With a grin, she trotted up to the group.

"Now?" asked Spike.

Twilight nodded.

Grinning, Spike placed the necklace around Scarlet's collar. Scarlet gasped but said nothing, simply glancing between the three of them.

"Ever since we defeated Discord, I've felt like you were missing something, some aspect of you that was always there before... and it wasn't until I had the whole picture that I understood. There's a fire burning inside you, Scarlet - one that the coldest winds and the darkest nights can't extinguish... and by inspiring those around you to stand up for what they believe in no matter the odds, you light that same fire in our hearts as well." Twilight cleared her throat.

"Scarlet Starbeam, you represent the Element of Hope!"

Rays of light erupted from the empty setting in Scarlet's necklace. As they faded, a brilliant white jewel in the shape of a shooting star took their place.

For several seconds, all Scarlet could do was stand there, staring down at her collar. "I... but... er, that is... I, ah..."

Pinkie giggled. "Aww, she's speechless! That's so cute!"

Scarlet took a deep breath, wiping yet more tears from her face with her foreleg. "Goodness, but I have been doing so much crying of late..." She chuckled at that, in spite of herself.

"That's okay! Crying is good for you," said Pinkie. "It means you have too many feels built up inside, and you gotta get them out as quick as you can!"

"I suppose so." Scarlet's smile faded. "But... I do not understand. How can I have earned a symbol of hope, when my demeanor of several days now has been anything but hopeful?"

"Because you stood up and did the right thing when it really counted - you didn't hesitate to come to my rescue, even when you thought it was already too late," Twilight explained. "Bearing an Element isn't about being a flawless paragon of harmony all day, every day. We're only ponies, after all."

"A very important lesson, Twilight."

Three ponies and a dragon gasped as a tall figure approached them.

"Princess Celestia!" Twilight immediately knelt before the princess, her companions following suit a second later.

Celestia smiled down at them. "Once again, I believe congratulations are in order - both to our newest Element bearer, and to my most faithful student - for a job well done all around."

Twilight's cheeks turned rosy. "I mean, I couldn't have done it without Pinkie Pie. And the rest of my friends, of course..."

Celestia nodded.

"I expect you will be wanting this, then?" asked Scarlet, her hoof resting on her necklace.

Celestia smirked. "I think that can wait until after your friends have had a chance to appreciate it, don't you?"

Scarlet lowered her hoof, beaming. "Thank you, Princess."

"Isn't this great, Twilight?" Pinkie nudged Twilight with her knee. "You finally finished your homework! You're free!"

Twilight frowned, her gaze drifting. "Yeah, great..."

Spike tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"Um, nothing..." Twilight began slowly backing up, a nervous grin spreading across her face. "Hey, so I just remembered I really need to go, uh, sort my notes! It's, um, it's going to take me a good long while now, so don't wait up for me!"

"Twilight."

The voice of Princess Celestia brought Twilight to a halt.

"I am not here to bring you back to Canterlot, my student."

Twilight swallowed. "You're - you're not?"

"Of course not." With a gentle sweep of her wing, Celestia guided Twilight back to the group. "You've made such wonderful friends and learned so much in your time here. I wouldn't dream of taking that away from you."

Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. "I was a little worried for a moment..."

Celestia turned to Scarlet. "And as for you..."

Scarlet tilted her head. "Yes, Princess?"

Celestia lowered her head until their horns touched, causing Scarlet to wince.

"Shhh," whispered Celestia. "Stay still. This won't hurt for long."

Celestia's horn took on its usual golden glow, which slowly spread to Scarlet's blackened horn. Gradually, the burn began to heal, returning to its usual bright red color. When she was finished, Celestia raised her head once more and smiled.

Scarlet rubbed her healed horn, her jaw slack. Lowering her hoof, she ran some magic through it, smiling as lit up in a bright sky blue glow with no pain or resistance in spite of her former injury.

"My word... Thank you very much, your highness."

"You are more than welcome, Scarlet." With that, Celestia turned to Pinkie. "Now then. I would say this calls for a celebration, wouldn't you?"

"You bet your patootie I would, Princess!" Pinkie grinned, revved up her hind legs until they were little more than circular blurs of motion, and took off in search of party supplies.

"I will remain here and help arrange things in the library," explained Celestia. "You three should gather the others and deliver the good news."

Twilight beamed. "Thank you, Princess!"

Scarlet nodded. "Of course, your highness."

Spike climbed up onto Twilight's back and saluted.

Celestia watched them gallop away. "Your hardest trials are yet to come, Twilight Sparkle... but I have no doubt that when the time comes, you will be more than prepared for them."

Episode 4 - End

Previous Chapter

To be continued on Fimfiction!

[waywardoakdown]

stream of consciousness ramble about a story I’m writing below

    To set the stage, I am fourteen years old and watching The Lost Boys for what is probably the fourth or fifth time within the month of June.  I latch on to movies sometimes, for a while it was Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, I remember watching How to Train your Dragon on close to repeat, sitting in front of Practical Magic for hours at a time.

    In the summer of 2011 it was The Lost Boys.  You see I had come out of my twilight phase before this point, I was buried in The Tale of the Body Thief, in Daniel’s unwilling surrender, in Vampire Academy because the struggle of Rose Hathaway was so endlessly interesting to me.  In Shattered Mirror and In the Forests of Night, because Amelia Atwater-Rhodes was barely older than me when she published her first books.

    I had written vampire stories before.

    Christa Morgan was still the sharp tongued huntress she had always been, fighting for her life and trying not to let her best friend die like the rest of her family had.  But I had hit a rock with her story long before this point, a mountain pass I could not find my way through.  

    Aria and Melody were on hold while I thought over the consequences of a world where eye color could denote whether or not you’d killed someone you were related to.

    Then I was buried in fanfiction to extend this universe that there seemed to be so little of.  My obsessions grew far and I was hungry for whatever was written well, though my standards at the time were admittedly low.  I’ve revisited some of those stories lately, to find them holding up surprisingly well.  

    So I sat down to extend the universe myself.

    Alexandra Blackwood was born of that endeavor, and like me at this start, she was fourteen.  Turning 15 on September 9th.  She wasn’t a self insertion, how Christa started out, she was brash and scared and all around a pretty broken kid.  I’d settled on her upbringing being shit from the start and I pulled from relatives and friends lives to give life to how these things had affected her.  There wasn’t a lot to go off of at first, it was generic as they come when fanfiction sprung from this movie.  Another kid goes off to Santa Carla and falls in step with the boys.

    In this case the only original Lost Boy I kept was David, since in the novelization of the movie there was a post-end scene of him having turned a handful of surf nazis, one being Shane who would move up to Luna Bay with his own crew of exceptionally violet buddies.  I liked the idea of having a new group of people, especially since while I felt comfortable in David in the way I always feel comfortable writing those of questionable morals and exceptional cruelty: I didn’t feel comfortable in my abilities to capture Marko, Paul, and Dwayne.

    Making people scream over my lack of ability to do so was not something I wanted.

    And thus Eric, Kyle, and Jesse were born.

    Only two of them survived into this edition of the rewritten mess, only one of them stayed in his semi-original state (Jesse, my green haired ball of energy).  I wrote the story very fast for my pace at the time, I flew through chapters like it was nothing until about 14 or 15 in.

    That’s when things started getting weird.

    See by this point I was working simultaneously on this mess of a fanfiction, and writing a companion that had the copyrighted materials removed, hence David becoming Daniel, and Santa Carla becoming Twin Lakes (a little town barely a mile across just below Santa Cruz, in case anyone wondered).  I changed the story very little in the first rewrite, which I have since trashed and can no longer see the light of day, though it may still exist on a flash drive somewhere labeled ‘Safe - 23036’ which was the word count at the time.  Pretty impressive for a 14 year old who had never written more than 10k before and that being over the course of years rather than a handful of months.

    I had a cheerleader though.  There was this woman in Australia who got very attached to both versions of my story, and needed something to read after putting her kids to bed.  So whenever I hit a rut I reminded myself I had someone waiting for this, waiting and excited, and forward I plowed.

    Back to things getting, weird.  The longer Alex waited to feed the less cohesive her mind became, she had dreams that lasted days and hallucinations about real people that she hadn’t even met.  Things that, if I remember correctly, still got cut from the last-most-recent rewrite, the one before this one, the one with a little over 2 dozen chapters and a handful of alternate endings and off shoots because gods know I can’t make up my mind.

    Well, scratch that, looks like I did include that weird bullshit in the last rewrite.  Go me, those chapters are absolutely a confusing pile of shit.  But apparently I wanted to keep them.  That rewrite happened in, oh I dunno, 2014 or so?  Maybe it was 2013, I think it might have been.  I don’t know for sure, but I do know it got a huge overhaul and moved further away from The Lost Boys so that it could stand better on its own.

    By this time I think I had changed Alex’s age to match mine again?  16 or 17 or something around there, just because I remember going back and reading and thinking ‘What dumb fuck 14 year old lets herself join a bunch of fuckin vampires, and what vampires allow that???’  So I upped her age a bit, which I’ve done again in the current version, to match my own age, again, making her 20 going on 21.

    I remember the first time I finished these stories, it was maybe halfway through January of 2012 when I started the sequel, having set up for it at the end back in December.  Kayla Raes was born of probably the least thought out romance of all time, rest assured I’ve built up Alex and Isaac’s relationship much more this time.  But at this time they were just, together, because reasons?  I guess?

    Now more than half that characters in this damn book are queer, so whatever.

    Anyways.

    Kayla Raes, who inexplicably has David/Daniel’s eyes and doesn’t think to question it when these fuckers show up and offer her immortality.

    Which she takes and then after realizing that she’s still being controlled, kills the FUCK out of David/Daniel and unfortunately Isaac dies in the process and there’s some bullshit going on there but we don’t need to go into “Free” I really don’t follow that ending anymore.

    Originally Alex either killed Isaac or escaped with him in the end.

    Because I didn’t even touch on the fact that her parents were worthy targets.

    It didn’t even really come up until I did I one shot AU of my own damn story called “Feral” where the boys would just feed people vampire blood, drop them back in the streets, give them a week to kill someone and if they didn’t, kill them.  Alex attacked a woman in the streets, demanded answers from Daniel, originally she turned here, like she killed the woman and that was the end of it.  I wasn’t sure where I was bringing the story from that point.  But it did spawn the beginnings of this rewrite.

    Of Alex becoming a vampire without killing Isaac.

    Now, shoot forward to what is the very beginnings of 2017, I haven’t so much as touched this story in years, I do occasionally re-read it for the parts I enjoy.  The scene in San Francisco for the sake of cementing Alex’s fear of trying to run away from Daniel, the image of his hair soaked red and the bones of that last girl cracking under his hands.  The opening of Alex discovering the whole vampire thing, of almost killing Isaac in the shop, shaking and calling 911 and not quite knowing what else to do or what she’s done.  Jesse leaving to go find his sister Sarah after years of her being a missing persons case, finding her dead just outside Chicago with a broken arm and two bullets in her head.  Things I still loved the descriptions of, things that still flowed the way I felt they did the first time I’d written them.

    But oh gods the mess that was most of the story.

    I opened with a clean slate.

    With one single chapter written.

    Alex discussing the possibility of killing her parents with Daniel.  She’s been fighting for months now, and the pain is so bad most of the time she can barely leave bed.  Daniel is emphasizing her lack of time, and how worried they are getting about her. By this time the ‘they’ is different, still Jesse, but Eric and Kyle are gone and there is now a girl named Moira, who is small and fiery and slow to like people.  

    They talk about her parents, about how nobody could blame her for wanting to see them dead and gone.  She’s afraid to go back and Daniel offers to kill them for her if it turns out she can’t bring herself to do it.

    They go, she kills them, everything is fine.

    That was how this rewrite started.

    That was the only thing I had cemented in my mind.  The vision of her obliterating everything that had caused her pain in the past and using it to move forward.  To start a new life.

    I also moved this shit to the east coast so that I was more familiar with the setting.  Since I’m a Vermonter and I know Maine and New Hampshire pretty damn well, especially the coastal parts of Maine.  She did still spend time in Santa Cruz, but I left that to memory.

    Daniel’s story changed heavily as well, as it had to in order to move away from The Lost Boys, I’ve read the prequel script, I know all that mess.  But Daniel softened somewhere in between rewrites.  He wasn’t the so called ‘big bad’ anymore.  So he was a PTSD kid who had gone to war when he was too young and seen things he couldn’t forget.  In that respect he was molded after my Uncle, though without the denial of his PTSD and massive drinking problem.  

    From that story was born Amalthea, Carter, Lia, and reborn Eric.  Carter fit more closely to what Daniel had been originally, but he was more childish about it.  Amalthea was a placeholder I never replaced because she just faded out of importance so she kept the Last Unicorn’s human name.

    Daniel grew on me fast once he had a background in place, wanting to please his grandfather, wanting enough money to finally propose to Emily Dawr.  The moment when he realizes he’s killed her brother.  When he tells her goodbye, and then following being ready to kill Carter when it’s implied Carter killed her.  Going to check on his sister’s family every few years.  Getting so lonely when Carter and Lia are killed.  Not having the energy to go after Eric and Amalthea afterwards.

    When he comes across Jesse the kid is so bright he’s annoying.  But that fades away fast even though it’s obvious Jesse wants more from him than he’s willing to give.  Not that he’s got a preference either way when it comes to sex but Jesse it just very  energetic and not really his type.  Regardless, they do become very good friends throughout the months where Jesse is trying to get everything in order so that Daniel can kill him.  

    I’d go into why Jesse wants to die but the story does that for me, in his own words, the 80s were a bad time to be gay.

    By the time I’ve gotten all the backstory for the pair of them, Isaac’s story is changing and his decisions are slowly becoming the turning point for every possibility in this book.  He helps Alex get more time by giving her his blood every couple of weeks, courtesy of Carrie who would very much like to know why he keeps asking such questions about how often you can remove certain amounts of blood and what the effects might or might not be.  When Alex does turn, they remain friends, sort of.  Carrie, not knowing who Alex is, has Isaac invite her to their occasional dinner-and-stake nights.  I need better wording for that, they have food and then Isaac trains them to fight vampires.

    Isaac is, understandably apprehensive about this, especially considering everything Alex did/almost did to him.  But she assures him that it’s all much easier to control now and things go smoothly for some time.  One night things, get a little heated while Isaac and Alex are fighting, she feels almost like she’s out of control for a second, and then it stops.  Later on they end up kissing, and there’s a blood exchange, and this leads to Isaac craving it.  Every time it happens, he calls it something akin to an addiction, though after a close call of thinking she might have turned him, they stop.  

    They do continue sort-of being a couple.

    Fast forward a bit, some bad things happen, Alex almost dies, and Isaac tells her he loves her.  To which she responds that loving him is terrifying and she doesn’t want to face the choices that leaves them with.  Jesse reinforces this when he tells her she has to be prepared to watch him die, or turn him into a vampire.  Neither of which Alex likes, not having wanted to be a vampire herself, though she’s gotten used to it by now, and doesn’t think any the worse for it.

    So she runs, and Isaac, having already decided that he’s okay with the likely outcome of their relationship being an eternity of murder, goes to Daniel.

    Rewind a bit, remember that scene I mentioned in San Francisco?  That scene doesn’t happen anymore, it didn’t fit with Daniel’s personality and I knew if he had stayed the way he was originally, Alex would never had trusted him, never have agreed to kill someone, and never have stuck around in the first place.

    Here’s where Eric comes back in.  Taking on all the traits of Daniel and his old self combined with a little touch of carnage soaked madness I attribute to my ever present muse for The Master from Doctor Who.  Sometime somewhere I haven’t figured out when exactly to shove it in, he shows up and decides a little wake up call is in order.

    So like the asshole he is, a side that didn’t really come out originally until ‘Free’ but fuck that story and fuck Kayla and fuck Ally and everything else that happened there- He kidnaps Alex.

    And of course things take a quick turn for the worst.

    But the others show up and whisk her the fuck out of there and I’m like 90% sure Moira straight up shoots Eric until he’s so full of holes it doesn’t matter that he’s immortal.  Because she’s seen this kind of bullshit before and there is no way she’s dealing with it again.

    Alex kills her mother two or three days later, I ended up changing it because she couldn’t kill Jack, every time I sat down to write the scene she’d fly into a panic and so I had Daniel do it.  Well, she had Daniel do it.  These characters talk to me, they appear like ghosts, just visible in the corner of my vision, people fully formed but incorporeal.

    Onward we move.

    This story has been near and dear to me for a long time.

    Alex is probably the most pissed at me of all the characters in my head, and I’ve killed off Emmreth Took more times than The Master would ever allow (like he’d allow it at all, but jfc).  

    She is a permanent resident of my mind, like the Master is.  She doesn’t flit in and out like the rest, she’s just there.  Which is equal parts a help and a hindrance.  With the Master it’s an odd sort of tolerance, because we share certain similarities, and are polar opposites in other areas.  We find destruction highly cathartic, and he’s helpful when I’m drowning in my emotions because he is the kind of person to shut them away and move forward anyways.

    I can’t do that, but his irritation is usually enough to pick me up out of bed.

    Alex is different.

    Alex is all on her, she doesn’t bleed into my normal life, she comes up to talk in regards to her own and little else.  But she’s still there, just outside the edge of my vision, and depending on where she appears from, her questions range from pure curiosity, to fear, to outright pissed off demands.

    Of course, I don’t always have the answers she’s looking for, either because they are out of my control, or I haven’t gotten far enough to decide yet.  Or I’m stuck and can’t decide in either of two or more directions.