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sonkitty · 5 months ago

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The Sideburns Scheme Post #8 v4

(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)

Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 1, The Arrival, finding out Gabriel is in the bookshop

I brighten and saturate some images below to help us see things.

Sideburns Check

The sideburns are both long.

The right sideburn is a length much like what was shown by the car earlier with Shax.

Meanwhile, the left sideburn has lengthened to what seems level with the bottom of the inner ear of the left ear.

Both sideburns will look even longer during the miracle to hide Gabriel, but I think this scene is trying to convey the overall longest-length category since at this point, the length is meant to be noticed with Gabriel, and it's harder to tell such subtle differences without a lot of practice, in my own experience.

For the earlier parts of the story, longest-length sideburns happen when Crowley is in the bookshop and going to have a scene with Gabriel. In episode 5, this length questionably appears during parts of the ball when Gabriel's presence is given more focus and right before Crowley approaches Muriel. Episode 6 is where we'll eventually see more clearly this length is not exclusive to Gabriel's presence without humans around.

During the scene, Crowley says to Aziraphale, "You'll never guess who Shax was asking me about."

Aziraphale looks at Crowley, and he says, "Yes, I think perhaps I will."

During season 2, we never see these two cross the main bookshop threshold together with no one else already inside. Both times, Gabriel was already inside.

We do see two instances of them on the main bookshop floor with no one else around. In the first, Crowley entered from the stairs as Aziraphale was preparing for the ball in episode 5. In the second, Maggie an Nina had just left after Aziraphale entered through the building's main threshold, in episode 6.

In those two instances, the sideburns were not as short as usually around as humans and not as long as when Crowley is around Gabriel without humans.

The story never told us if Crowley would already be having longer sideburns in these types of circumstances.

I think that look from Aziraphale is a recognition that the sideburns are that long on Crowley because yes, Gabriel is truly inside the bookshop with them, and Aziraphale's anxiety about the situation is further confirmed. They react to a supernatural presence, and in this case, they lengthened more than they usually do with an extra supernatural being around.

I'll have more to say on the sideburns in the Story Commentary.

...

Red Streak Check

This story wants the streak scene clearly in this scene. The bookshop is dim, especially with the shades being brought down. Still, despite that dimness, the streak is at one of its clearest points of presence on Crowley's hair.

When Crowley asks, "What...are you...doing...in...this bookshop?" there is a cut that starts where he starts when he is saying the "k" in bookshop and ends the question. During this one brief cut, I cannot find the streak. I can find maybe a little bit of the hair that looks more red where I expect the streak to be.

My theory is that the streak is an after-effect of Crowley performing a Big Miracle on Sunday at midnight or an earlier draft/timeline of the story.

This miracle involved putting the Book of Life into the matchbox. There could be more to the miracle given so much else happening in the story, such as the strange background humans, Maggie, Nina, Muriel, Crowley's sideburns, the Earthly Objects, game, and the alarms firing off later this episode.

But I still think the clues suggest this core result.

...

Hairstyle Changes

The hairstyle is quite different actually though we don't see it as much from the top as from the front. The sideburns are longer for a start, but it's also become more collected and tidy. The top front swoops further upward, like it did in earlier scenes, with a little tilt and curve to Crowley's right.

...

Earthly Objects

(For reference: Earthly Objects | Earthly Objects Study - Crowley's Sunglasses)

We have arrived at our second Threshold Trick!

This one is The Sunglasses Trick.

The Sunglasses Trick is my personal favorite though it seems to me The Pocket Trick is the clear favorite of Mr. Gaiman, Mr. Tennant, and whoever else had a strong role in making the game. I don't know if you've noticed certain recent pictures of David Tennant using pockets, but I sure have. He even made a pocket with a car!

John Finnemore is a co-writer for this story, and from what I have read, he is known for having solved a difficult literary puzzle called Cain's Jawbone while writing puzzles in his own stories too. So, I suspect it is his favorite as well.

The literal actual words, "the pocket tricks" are used in the dialogue during episode 4 in the minisode.

But anyway, let's get back to The Sunglasses Trick. Pockets will be back for extra difficulty soon enough.

Here's a GIF to start us off:

The Sunglasses Trick is the first Complex trick to start. It will not finish until The Final Fifteen of episode 6. It will be the first of three Threshold Tricks completed for that part of that episode.

My best guess for this one's core concept is, "Crowley's sunglasses are his door to himself."

This concept means the sunglasses are Crowley's threshold. His threshold has thresholds. The thresholds are the end pieces. Figuring that out in the game can be found through the subtle demonic hisses he does when removing them (and looking up diagrams of sunglasses since I didn't know this stuff). There are 3 total. For those touches, all five digits are ensured to be shown in the motion.

In the first two examples, the touch has the index finger and thumb focused on the end piece. I long thought the third example did too, but after re-examining it closely at for the previous main version of this post, I realized I was mistaken. In the third example, he actually uses the middle finger and thumb. The middle finger crosses under the index finger for the touch. I suspect there are complex pocket mechanics involved for that part to work as it does too because it is the only touch where the index finger obscures the thumb tip. Thumb tips are quite important for Door Mode.

Thresholds can also have thresholds because edges are thresholds. So, the edges of the end pieces are the thresholds of the thresholds of Crowley's threshold. He will touch those in the last touch.

Every Threshold Trick has things that make it special. A big truly special thing about this one is how it is layered. Certain things are switched along the way to reach that layer. This Threshold Trick has 8 touches total. The Single is one Triple. The Double is two Doubles. The Triple is three Singles. The first 3 touches are actually in episode 1 itself.

This first touch is Crowley removing his sunglasses for the first time in the story. He touches both end pieces with one hand.

Here is a basic run-down of how this one goes without knowing that advanced pocket mechanics are involved, copied and pasted with minor editing from my Threshold Tricks post:

Double #1 of the eventual primary Double (Episode 1):

Crowley removes his sunglasses touching two end pieces with one end. Both doors are opened. He puts the sunglasses on the dark horse statue and is not touching anything else.

Triple Part 1 of the eventual primary Single (Episode 1; Not Hissing):

Crowley removes his sunglasses before being summoned to Hell by touching the right end piece. He did not have a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect. His left hand eventually puts the sunglasses on a blurry mirror.

Triple Part 2 of the eventual primary Single (Episode 1; Not Hissing):

Crowley removes his sunglasses before throwing them on a desk by touching the left end piece. Soon after, he rings a bell. He did not have a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect.

Single #1 for the eventual primary Triple (Episode 2; Different Sunglasses and Hissing)

Crowley removes the first set of present day sunglasses while holding a Jane Austen book by touching the right end piece. He had a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect.

It is a Single because the next two demonic hisses will have different sunglasses.

For these demonic hisses, though I do not know why, I suspect he is actually required to be holding an earthly object.

Single #2 for our eventual primary Triple (Episode 2; Different Sunglasses and Hissing):

Crawley removes his Job era sunglasses by touching the right end piece. He had a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect.

While he does not appear to be holding an earthly object, crows are eventually turned into goats. These goats are what he initially transformed through his own power earlier in the story. As such, they are likely to be considered the earthly object he was holding.

Single #3 for the eventual primary Triple (Episode 5; Different Sunglasses and Hissing):

Crowley removes the second set of present day sunglasses by touching the left end piece. He had a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect. He is understood to be holding a glass of wine in his hand and later confirmed to still be doing so.

At last, the three Singles are done.

They have something that makes them different—the different sunglasses.

They also have something in common—Crowley hissed.

So, as a player, I figure it's time to merge these Singles so they can become the primary Triple of this Threshold Trick. Time to finish up the primary Double and the primary Single started earlier.

Triple Part 3 of the eventual primary Single (Episode 6; Not Hissing):

Crowley removes his sunglasses and holds them. When removing them, his right hand did so on the right end piece. He did not have a subtle demonic hiss as an added sound effect.

At last, there are three not hissing touches where no earthly objects were touched during the present day. That is a Triple to make the primary Single. The Trick is almost done.

Double #2 of the eventual primary Double (Episode 6):

Crowley puts his sunglasses back on. He touches the edges of the end pieces thresholds with both hands. Edges are thresholds, so he ends up touching the thresholds of his thresholds for his door to himself. On the front view, two sets of fingers are touching each other as one of the fingers of each pair touches each edge. From the back view, there are two visible digit tips with the thumb and index finger.

No earthly objects were touched the entire time before they were put on. That finally gives the primary Double for the Trick.

...

The above ends what was copied and pasted.

Another thing that makes this Threshold Trick special is that it is done by Crowley for Crowley. It is his own special move for himself.

Still another thing that makes this move special is that, instead of a rainbow, Crowley's watch has a notable reflection of white light, presumably due to the Trick's special layering.

This Threshold Trick was the fifth one I found and what made me realize they have names. As stated in a previous post, I realized "perfect" was appropriate for The Perfect Entrance Trick.

Putting these pieces together was the most rewarding part of this game for me because I had given up on finding it. I had somewhat found The Door Trick and The Window Trick without naming them just yet. One of the ways this game likes to trick a player—but clue them in too—is putting those two in The Final Fifteen rather close to each other. They are the two Simple tricks that are not The Perfect Entrance Trick. They start and finish in the same episode. The Door Trick is done for Aziraphale. The Window Trick is done for humanity.

I had started calling them Threshold Tricks and recognized they required a Single, a Double, and a Triple though I was calling them 1, 2-in-1, and 3-in-1 at first.

But in the bookshop argument when Crowley takes off and eventually puts on his sunglasses, there is not a Single, a Double, and a Triple. Knowing me, I probably saw a Single and a Double but was lost on how to find the Triple. I can't verify that's what happened for myself since I think I deleted such drafts in frustration. I know I sensed that scene by itself lacked something like that in common with the other Threshold Tricks.

So, for me, it was frustrating and confusing because shouldn't there then be a Threshold Trick for Crowley? Rule of Three?

I figured I was just wrong and looking for something I sensed that wasn't there.

Eventually, I realized the reason I had such a hard time finding it was because the touches take place over more than one episode. It was one of the Complex Threshold Tricks. Add in the layering described above, that made it so much harder to recognize. I had to have when he takes those sunglasses off memorized or at least be familiar enough to know when and where to check. Then look for a Triple that is three Singles? Not easy! I even had which set was three Singles and three parts of one Triple wrong at first.

When I did recognize the layering, it was a beautiful, mind-blowing realization.

I think there actually is a phrase that is supposed to be found for the move that does include the word, "Perfect". I'm not sure what it is, but my best guess is "Perfect Reversal". I haven't found any other words I would prefer to use.

Before I named The Perfect Entrance, I called it a "beautiful entrance."

For this Trick, I refer to its layering as "beautiful."

But "Perfect Layer" or "Perfectly Layered" still don't feel sufficient.

I don't like "Perfect Reflection," "Perfect Mirror," or "Perfect Switch," either. Fighting games certainly like reversals in their moves.

The word "pocket" might also be meant to be in there somewhere, but if so, I'm not sure how it would go. I wouldn't call it a "Perfect Pocket," "Perfect Pocket Reversal," or "Perfect Reversal Pocket." Maybe "Perfectly Layered Pocket." But "Perfect Reversal" sounds more like a move you'd find in a fighting game.

Still, let's get to the pocket stuff.

The "easy" pocket thing to notice from the start is that this Threshold Trick is pocketed by the Doubles. A Double starts this Threshold Trick. A Double ends this Threshold Trick. In Earthly Objects, that's a pocket.

Here we are at the first of those Doubles to start the whole thing.

The more difficult pocket mechanics in play are trying to figure out how the Tied Hands and Belt Head are managed, along with anything else pockets might give as clues to a player.

The Tied Hands probably retie after Crowley places the sunglasses on the dark horse statue.

Something that's really notable about this initiating Double is the lack of an Overhead Light. Crowley had Overhead Lights during his entrance into the bookshop, but the flow of his scenes was disrupted by a scene of Maggie and Nina.

In any case, he has a visible pocket of hair and visible Belt Head during the cut of this touch, so the Belt Head is nonetheless active.

Crowley's actual left thumb is ensured to not be on screen.

It is extremely hard to tell with the lighting, but as those sunglasses make their way to the dark horse statue, I can eventually see the tassels and clasps of the Tied Hands are pocketed into Crowley's vest. That means those thumbs and thumb joints are hiding. That's something they'll do much later on the exit in Heaven that ends The Bigger Thresholds Trick.

Well, this touch is starting this Threshold Trick instead of ending it. The thumb parts of the Tied Hands are then purposely not shown for the rest of this scene.

I don't know why. I just know that's what Crowley decided to do in the game as part of his advanced play.

The lighting is most interested in some of the books in front of the dark horse statue itself.

I can't really be sure if Crowley's trying to make his left thumb joint more visible despite the left thumb hiding. If he is, it's when he's putting the sunglasses on the statue.

The Belt Head is visible between the vest tips with a little pocket formed above it, thanks to them. There are actually multiple pockets of hair though one is bigger than the others.

...

Here are my guesses for the basic points of standard sets.

The dark horse statue is touched by extension once the sunglasses are on it.

Aziraphale has a touch on the string to bring down the shades over a window.

Crowley says Shax's name.

Aziraphale touches the string to bring down the shades of one of the doors.

Aziraphale says the name, "Jim?" in the form of a question.

Crowley responds with the name twice and a question set, "Jim? Do we know a Jim?"

Questions can be nullified by answering them or maybe even being too similar. Since Crowley and Aziraphale are interacting, there might also be a priority order, such as Aziraphale receiving credit for the name "Jim" whereas Crowley receives credit for the question, "Do we know a Jim?" instead of each receiving credit for both names and questions. I haven't a strong enough feel of the game to be sure, just speculating based on rhythm.

Gabriel says,"Hi there," as his "Hello" for the scene.

Crowley says Gabriel's name.

Aziraphale brings down the shades for the other door.

Aziraphale's right arm touches the shades against the door.

Gabriel says his own name.

Gabriel's bare feet shift slightly on the floor.

Crowley has the question, "What's he doing here?"

Now, something is off or mitigating the lack of touches for a stretch of dialogue and interaction in this scene. Not all touches are physical, but no one is looking through a window. The something could be that the shades are hiding the inner events of the bookshop or the occasional visual touches Crowley and Aziraphale have on the bookshop doors.

Crowley has the question, "What's happened to him?"

Crowley has the question, "What...are you...doing...in...this bookshop?"

Aziraphale has a self-touch with his hands.

Gabriel's answer is, "I...am...dusting."

Statements of place are more often used as a "hello," but I think they can be used as a "good-bye," which is what seems to be happening here since it is the last line of dialogue for the scene.

Gabriel then shows himself dusting, showing the proper earthly object use of a feather duster.

...

Tied Hands

While I have already covered the Tied Hands somewhat for the touch on The Sunglasses Trick, there is one particular cut that has a potential retying because it's the only cut that shows Crowley's actual hands after he removes his sunglasses and has a few retying clues.

That cut is here:

This retying, if that is what it is, is either in response to another character entering the scene or because it's the first time Crowley's head has a visual touch on the bookshop doors. There is an area behind Gabriel that could be a doorway with yet another door against the wall, but that's uncertain speculation. I don't really know and can't really tell. I know where the bookshop doors are though, and I know the timing of Crowley's first visual touch over them with retying clues.

If there is yet another retying after that one, it must be done with Gabriel's assistance near the end of the scene and before Crowley is about to cross another threshold to start the next scene. A clock becomes visible as a time-teller when Crowley is shown with the feather duster.

After that, Gabriel's hands do some things that Crowley's hands tend to do for his retying instances.

What made them untie? I'm not sure. Based on the framing, Crowley's actual head stopped having a visual touch over the main bookshop doors for the cuts showing his head with those doors after the last retying.

...

Belt Head

I am of the opinion that reflected light on pillars and non-door surfaces should not count for Overhead Lights, but this scene does that, just in case such things do count. Or maybe such things count because of how Crowley's left thumb aligned with a line of light when he reacted to seeing Gabriel in this particular scene. It's really annoying. The framing is very deliberate about when Crowley's head reaches the top of the screen as well.

I mean, I don't think reflective objects or surfaces should count in general, but I acknowledge that the Double and Single of The Pocket Trick suggest such mechanics are at work when Crowley has a physical touch on a door indoors. In Crowley's first present day scene, there is a giant reflection in the lake that could be his Overhead Light. So, reflections or reflective surfaces have a role to play, at the very least.

Much like how the thumbs and thumb joints of the Tied Hands stay in their pocket in the vest, the Belt Head stays off screen after it is initially shown in the first cut of the scene.

Crowley does get a more definite Overhead Light when he turns around to see Gabriel, which is just before a theoretical retying. He gets Overhead Lights that are actual lights when he looks at Aziraphale before looking at Gabriel again.

Then he has 3 little lights above and to the left of his left ear in the first video frame when he is shown with the feather duster as another theoretical retying initiates. Crowley gets one little definite pocket of hair containing that light further into the cut.

...

Story Commentary

After watching Good Omens 2, I was left confused and mildly annoyed.

So, I went to Tumblr to get a feel for why I might be feeling how I did and found various fan theories that something more was happening with the end than how things seem on the surface.

One such theory was called The Magic Trick You Didn't See. The link now says I need to request access, which I don't feel comfortable doing, so I'll pass along what I remember. It was quite popular at the time I read it, which was probably October or November 2023.

The core theory in play is that the Metatron was editing the Book of Life the whole time during Good Omens 2.

I think this theory brings up some worthwhile points, and I couldn't have formed my own theories without it. Plus, the title is a lovely match to my own very different theory about the existence of The Door Catch. The Door Catch is a special Magic Trick Aziraphale does at the end of episode 6.

Cool things found in that theory, in my opinion, for forming my own other theories, are that the disappearing Eccles cakes plate teaches the audience the rules of a game, mention of the Rule of Three, and even a mention of that dreadfully key magical word, "pocket".

Then another theory that found its way to me was that this story takes place over months: It's a memory, and it's out of order. Memories were stitched together. Somewhere in the process Crowley, Aziraphale, and Gabriel hid something from themselves. I disagree that the story takes place over several months, but that idea for the hiding something from themselves sounds very plausible, and even likely, to me. Selective memory for supernatural beings is something we are informed can happen when Aziraphale explains learning French the hard way and knowing that Gabriel retained at least some memories.

And these theories, these were the ones that really caught my attention:

Crowley’s Sideburns & what do they mean?

Ok, I love this theory that it could be some sort ...

I read those things, and my line of thinking went, "That [sideburns thing] was meant to be noticed." I am so, so obsessed with David Tennant as Crowley right now—and back then, so that gave me an excuse to do something with my obsession by seeing if I could figure out anything with the sideburns. If something is made that obvious, it shouldn't be that hard. Alas, it is because of pockets, but I didn't know better, obviously. I accepted an invitation to a game without realizing it.

I mean, without knowing the difficult pocket trickery would happen, I figured, even if it were that hard, I'd just give up and move on eventually, right? Sometimes we surprise ourselves.

So, with those things in mind...

Moving onto more on sideburns, when I initially started this project, one of my top questions was, "Who, in this fictional universe, is trying to tell us what they mean?" Because if the Metatron is editing the Book Life, why is he so obsessed with telling us so much about Crowley's sideburns, more saturated red streak of hair, and varying hairstyle changes? As best I can tell, Crowley and Aziraphale—mainly Crowley—are actually the ones telling us about the sideburns. Their message is subtle because it's spread out in puzzle pieces, but it's there. It can be found in the looks, the dialogue, what is seen on screen.

As noted from my post about the scene in the park, based on Crowley's actions in the story—especially here, Crowley does not actually sense when the sideburns change in length. Whatever these sideburns do, they do not alert Crowley "Gabriel is nearby! Gabriel is nearby!" They alert us, for this earlier part of the story but not Crowley himself.

Another question I had was if Crowley needed to look in a mirror to know the length changed, and I now think that, for the most part, yes, he does. His sight is special, but he can manipulate it to get the mirror to show him the sideburns in his car because his car is showing him the mirror. Otherwise, he can get something like a verbal cue from Aziraphale when Aziraphale says Muriel is a "human" police officer with emphasis on the word "human". So then, Crowley doesn't need to look in the mirror. He's been informed that they are short indirectly.

As noted in my main sideburns post, I think the sideburns are related to memory, but I don't have much understanding of how. I suspect their longer length around angels is from a latent memory in the angels because of the rank clues spread throughout the story.

...

That one cut where I think the streak disappeared is very curious. The question in the dialogue is so drawn out, it could be an edit. If it is, it's very good because I can't find any easier tells or discrepancies in the bookshop layout. At most, I think maybe things to the camera's left of the pillar might not line up as easily as things to the camera's right of the pillar.

There are at least two other oddities that could be more difficult tells. Crowley's shoulder obscures where the plate of Eccles cakes would be. It's the only cut where Aziraphale, Crowley, and Gabriel are on screen together with having some of Aziraphale's left side in it and some of Gabriel's right side.

Going back to the earlier mentioned theory about the Metatron editing the Book of Life, a lot of stuff I found in my own analysis clashes with that idea, but some of it doesn't.

The theory pointed out the Metatron referencing things like "makes a good story." I think there is merit to that. I don't remember the other two examples, but the author brought up a Rule of Three.

The theory suggested the Metatron is editing things about Aziraphale and alcohol.

I don't know if he edited those things, but Maggie's expressed disinterest in alcohol does fit as a potential clue. If it weren't for Maggie, I would figure the story is just showing us how Aziraphale's taste and willingness to drink alcohol evolved over time. But there is Maggie.

The theory has a strong association with Maggie being the Metatron's character, and I think a lot of that idea fits. I could see the Metatron being Maggie's editor or writer.

The matchbox is my main hesitance. I mean, it could be some other book in the matchbox, such as a version of the Book of Job to be concerned with since the Book of Job is where the matchbox's quote is from. Plus, what about the briefcase that Aziraphale took to Edinburgh and disappeared? Was the Book of Life or the Book of Job hidden away with the Gabriel statue?

We know Agnes Nutter had another book. She likely knew it would be burned and had another copy wherever it needed to be. Where is it? Does it play a role in this story? Did it give our characters clues on what to do?

Maybe whatever is in the matchbox is not a book but some other type of ominous magical object.

There are plenty of alternatives, and I'm mainly going by clues based on Michael and Muriel instead of the Metatron and Aziraphale.

The next scene has the streak not shown right before Crowley exits the private room where it can usually be more easily found, which is significant other part of where this idea comes from. That would be Draft #1 or Saturday.

I am not sure if Earthly Objects itself is a book that is a game the characters are in, but I at least lean a little that way because of the various readings that can be found in the game. The spaces read Crowley. The bookshop takes Muriel literally in episode 3. The Pocket Trick has hidden messages that require an audience player to figure out the words so that the messages can be read. The literal words in the Job minisode are part of how Job and Sitis keep their children alive. They literally lie aloud even if we can see they know they are lying. And so on.

So, maybe the Metatron isn't editing the Book of Life but a book called Earthly Objects or Good Omens 2. Even if he is, he still has to play the game, Earthly Objects, once he himself enters this story.

...

Alright, moving on a bit from the sideburns and the streak, here's more on this particular scene itself.

This scene is fascinating. Crowley is terrified instantly. We've seen him terrified before, but that included trying to stay composed nonetheless when it came to Hastur and Ligur and not being able to really run when Satan was coming. This context is different, and Crowley is caught completely off-guard, also unusual. Aziraphale had been confused and only took a step back when Gabriel asked to come in. Crowley doesn't have that chance, so he has to just instantly back away.

There is zero doubt in Crowley's head that this being is Gabriel with something having happened to him whereas earlier Aziraphale told Gabriel who knew someone who looked a lot like him. I mean, I'm sure Aziraphale was relatively sure himself, but he gave and acknowledged that inkling of doubt, that there could be something else.

Not Crowley though.

And even though Beelzebub later refers to the fly holding all of Gabriel's memories as "all your you", we know bare minimum there are some things in this being that Crowley—and only Crowley—was able to tap into. That "institutional problem" part sounded like a little bit of Gabriel's actual memory to me. There were no purple eyes needed for it either.

Despite Crowley's utter shock, his Earthly Objects play is still aware enough to manage his Tied Hands and Belt Head during the scene.

For taking note of the odd blocking of this story, the characters are notably separated a great deal in the cuts though not fully.

They interact but are blurred at times when supposedly on screen together. A lot of times only one of the characters is on screen, the audience left to assume it's because of distance and focus of who's talking or reacting.

The streak's disappearance is the one cut I can find with all three of them. That cut would also allow Crowley to be pocketed between the other two characters.

When Gabriel shows up, the blur switches between him and Crowley, ensuring both are not clear when we see them briefly in the same part of the scene together. Admittedly, in Earthly Objects, this type of thing seems to mean they are sharing in the scene.

Yellow is an important color in this story and not just because of Crowley's beautiful snake eyes. Yellow is the color hit twice in the Rainbow Connection during The Door Trick and that connects over to Aziraphale before Aziraphale eventually starts The Door Catch.

What does "Ask him properly!" mean?

Well, in the full context of both seasons, it could be that Crowley is telling Aziraphale to take the same approach Crowley has with his plants in season 1 or that one particular angel took with Aziraphale when yelling at Aziraphale in Heaven during season 1. When Crowley turns to talk to Gabriel again, he raises his voice and enunciates the question slowly. He also maintains eye contact in the cuts where we can see his eyes.

But...since we're playing games, we can let our imaginations run a little further than that to...

Compelling.

Asking him properly could mean that one of them should compel Gabriel for an answer.

Compelling requires eye contact, but for Crowley, it might also require...a demonic hiss.

Crowley will hiss at Gabriel in the next episode, and he will get an answer that takes him by surprise.

More likely, he meant yelling, since that's what he does, but the compelling answer is more fun, for me anyway.

...

That's it for this post.

...

Main post:

The Sideburns Scheme

...

Past versions of this post:

Post #8 v3 (finding out Gabriel is in the bookshop)

Post #8 v2 (finding out Gabriel is in the bookshop)

Post #8 v1 (finding out Gabriel is in the bookshop)

#crowley #david tennant #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens meta #good omens season 2 #good omens crowley #good omens analysis

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greenofrain · 5 months ago

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Only Murders In The Building Murder Board

I watched episode 1 last night and I can't wait for next week, so I just wanted to compile a list of people I think could have done it. I'll probably come back and reblog this when new episodes and new clues come out.

1. Bev Melon

It must be terrible to be named after a fruit.

Bev, the producer of the film, is passive aggressive to our crew and aggressive about filmmaking. Would she go so far as murder to close a film deal? My best theory is that she tried to non-lethally shoot Charles in order to convince him that New York was unsafe to get him to come to LA for the meeting. Once she found out that she actually shot Sazz, she took her to the incinerator so that nobody would know. Of all the film crew, I think she's the most likely. The brothers sisters are oddballs, but a misdirect, and the screenwriter and VPs don't strike me as suspects... Yet.

2. Howard Morris

I'll admit, I didn't really buy into the "Howard is the Mastermind" theory until this episode. But there are too many weird coincidences to ignore. How did he let himself in to Charles' apartment? Why does he text Mabel as soon as they've broken into Sazz's apartment? Why does he need a cadaver dog in the first place? Much to think about. Maybe he tried to kill Charles to usurp his place on the podcast? With all that said, I don't think it's Howard for 2 reasons. Firstly, if he's the mastermind and we know the show has five planned seasons, why reveal it in season 4? Second, he was way too helpful with Gravey to find a body that he killed. But then again, who knows? This murderer is much more aggressive and confident than the others, anything is possible.

3. Emma (Lucy's Mom) OR Lucy's New Stepdad

It's the return of a recurring character from a few seasons ago! I think that maybe in the year between seasons 2 and 3, Emma got a new boyfriend who tried to be a father to Lucy, but she liked Charles more than him. After Ben Glenroy's death, they forbid her from seeing him again because "he's too dangerous," and she protests like teenagers do or runs away, so they take matters into their own hands. This is a long shot, but it could be possible. We know the next episode is about two figures from Charles' past returning, and this is about the only thread from Charles' past that we haven't touched on in some capacity, so we might see Lucy return or Emma make an onscreen debut.

4. Eugene Levy, Zach Galifianakis, and/or Eva Longoria

Hear me out.

One or all of them wants to take over for their respective podcaster. Eugene Levy has the clearest motive, wanting to become Charles in real life after playing Brazzos in Quebec and now Charles in the movie. Zach Galifianakis is clearly the most hostile to Oliver, and that may transfer over to Charles as well. Eva Longoria described Mabel's age gap with the guys as "creepy," so maybe she's trying to get the guys out of the picture so Mabel can get her "shit ton of money and build something with it." It's a crackpot theory, but a theory none the less.

And that's what I've got for now. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear other people's theories!

#only murders in the building #omitb #omitb season 4 #omitb s4

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j-eryewrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Dancing Men (III)

Part 17 of the Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Sherlock is Sherlock, Sherlock and John fight (Let me know if I missed any)

Author’s Note: Finally finished this chapter! I just want to thank all of you for being so patient. Hopefully, I can get back on track to finishing this series. I’m so sad that it’s almost over but trust me you guys are in for some eventful last few chapters!

Y/N never knew she would hate an overseas travel experience so much more than her flight to London a few months prior. However, that was before she knew what travelling with Sherlock and John was like. She had the overwhelming feeling that she was babysitting the two of them, more so Sherlock than John. She tried to keep her mind occupied as the two men argued over what seat on the plane was the best. Of course, Sherlock occupied the window seat. John, who was ever the gentleman, sat in the middle seat. Lastly, Y/N took the aisle.

Once the debacle of seat choice was decided, they moved on to deducing the other occupants in the aeroplane. First, John would give it a go. Sherlock would listen intently as John relayed the information, he thought was correct about the person, and then Sherlock would correct him.

“She’s dating the man next to her. She keeps looking at him intently,” John nodded after careful observation. He was sure he nailed it.

“Wrong,” Sherlock corrected. “She’s fidgeting with the silver band on her ring finger. She slips it on and then off as she is talking to the man next to her. An expert way of concealing the ring as she’s talking to this man. She’s married to another yet finds the man next to her attractive enough for her to start thinking about an affair.”

“Right. How obvious, why didn’t I see it before?” John sarcastically said.

“Do better next time, John,” Sherlock muttered before pointing to the next object of observation.

John was sure he observed over a dozen people by the end of the flight. The longer John tried his hand at deducing, he found that he had gotten more correct than not. Once Sherlock was satisfied with John’s average observational skills, he moved on to Y/N who intently was reading a novel.

“Y/N,” Sherlock cleared his throat.

It took a moment for the young woman to snap from her literary daze and focus on Sherlock. The book was all too exciting. “Hmm?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at a man wearing a bright orange shirt in the row in front of them to their right. His eyes pointed Y/N in the man’s direction, and she turned to look at him, then back at Sherlock with a hint of confusion.

“What?” She asked as her hands carefully placed the bookmark into the novel.

Sherlock just scrunched his brows at her unaware that she had no clue what his obscure glances and facial expressions meant.

John sighed. “He wants you to deduce that man.” John offered a sympathetic smile to the woman.

Y/N processed John’s words before asking Sherlock a question. “Why?”

Sherlock looked as if he was about to roll his eyes, but then stopped himself. “It’s perfectly reasonable to train my employees on their deduction skills in case they are needed. John has…” Sherlock looked John up and down, “sufficed for the day. Now it’s your turn.”

Y/N chuckled. “Alright, whatever you say, Holmes.”

Y/N adjusted her seating position so she could get the clearest view of the man of the hour. As the woman observed over the man in the row up by one and on the right side, John couldn’t help how his eyes looked at Sherlock. He saw how Sherlock stared intently at Y/N from his window seat. For a moment, John thought that Sherlock was deducing her rather than her deducing the man in front of them with how carefully his eyes washed over her figure. In fact, John was sure he could see her reflection clearly within his eyes.

“He’s awfully hunched over. Could be reading a book or watching a film, maybe even sleeping with how to calm his body is…”

Sherlock smiled. “But…”

Y/N blinked at Sherlock. “But it’s not that. His slouch gets deeper whenever a flight attendant passes. He’s insecure…?” It was her best guess.

“Close,” Sherlock stated. He reached over John as if wasn’t there and pointed at the man. “He does slouch over more when a flight attendant passes, but only a particular one.”

Then the man in the orange shirt looked over his shoulder as the particular flight attendant passed. His arms protectively hovered over his lap. Once she was gone, Y/N caught sight of a pencil and a sketchbook. The man was drawing the flight attendant.

“Oh,” Y/N gasped.

“You see now?” Sherlock asked before pointing to someone else for Y/N to deduce. “Try again.”

It wasn’t hard for John to take notice of the soft tone Sherlock used to correct Y/N’s deductions. The consulting detective’s voice was a far cry from the reprimanding tone he had used when correcting John’s observations. John most definitely saw how Sherlock leaned ever so slightly forward in his seat towards Y/N’s aisle seat and John most definitely didn’t smirk as he sank as far as he could into the back of his seat, so Sherlock could get a nice view. Maybe these new deduction skills John was gaining were going to be of use sooner than later.

Y/N was able to try her hand at a few deductions before the plane landed in Dublin. Eventually, they were able to exit the plane and find a rental car. John drove the car with Sherlock in the passenger seat and Y/N in the back. She didn’t mind sitting in the back of the car. It gave her an ample view of the Irish landscape as they drove.

She had done some research about Clifden and from what she found it looked like the town came from a fairytale. Located along the coast of Ireland, sat Clifden with its picturesque buildings and homes. Alongside lots of land to explore, a castle, and a National Park.

As she stared out at the passing images of the Irish landscapes, she took notice of everything around her. The skies were grey, as was typical in late November. Sometimes there was snow covering the grounds, and other times there were windy fields of gold and brown blowing in the wind. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, it was beautiful. There was something so cosy about a grey gloomy day to Y/N. It was almost perfect. Unlike days filled with warm sunlight where she was obligated to roam around outside or the freezing stormy evenings where she was forced to stay indoors, Y/N had a choice when it came to grey days. The weather was pleasant enough that she could be outside, but it was also cosy enough to stay bundled up inside. She liked having a choice. It also helped that the grey days usually meant that rain would follow and she loved the rain.

Y/N felt her head grow heavy as her mind was lulled softly by the scenes. For some reason, the hum of the car was all too bewitching. It rumbled in a vivid low tone as the tires of the car drove over the pavement of the roads. The sights began to blur with the sounds echoing in her mind. The perfect combination for slumber and that is exactly what Y/N did.

_____

“Y/N.” A voice called out to her.

She made an incoherent mumbling noise in response. John chuckled at Sherlock’s distaste for the whole scenario.

“Don’t look at me,” John said washing his hands of the whole thing. “ I woke her up last time.” Without another word, John unbuckled his seat and removed himself from the car. His legs were practically begging to be used after such a long travel time.

Sherlock sighed and reached out a hand to shake Y/N awake. Instead of placing his hand on her shoulder, Sherlock’s fingers wove around her hair and found a resting spot on her cheek. His thumb mindlessly brushed up and down her cheek and a small smile crept up on Sherlock’s face.

“Hurry up in there,” John said.

Sherlock’s eyes widened and pulled back his hand from her face. He quickly glanced outside to make sure that John hadn’t seen him. Once Sherlock was satisfied that John hadn’t, he continued his quest to wake up Y/N.

This time his hand found her shoulder. With as much care as he could muster, Sherlock gently shook the woman awake.

“Y/N. We’re here,” Sherlock whispered.

Y/N stirred, and her body sank deeper into the back seat of the car. Her eyes still shut tight refusing to awaken. Sherlock groaned he wasn’t sure that he had it in him to forcefully wake her up. The crunching of gravel behind Sherlock altered him that John was ever present, Hilton was waiting, a case was brewing, and Sherlock needed to wake Y/N up.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “Y/N,” and with a gentle shake of her shoulders, the girl awoke.

Her voice was hoarse as it tried to recalibrate being awake and used. Y/N’s eyes flashed open before narrowing as the light evening light filtered in. She groaned as her body stretched from underneath Sherlock. For a moment, Sherlock forgot their proximity as he took in the sight of her awakening.

“Sherlock?” Y/N croaked.

His mind snapped from its thoughts as he shook his head. “Hmm?”

“Do you mind getting off me now?” Y/N asked.

Sherlock wasn’t on her, so to say, but his hand was still glued to her shoulder and their bodies sat impossibly close. Sherlock tilted his head perturbed by her question, before he remembered that people had something called personal space. A concept that he cherishes most definitely within himself, but always forgot that others had it.

“Sorry,” Sherlock cleared his throat and crawled out of the car straightening his jacket. “We’re here.”

Y/N nodded her head and soon followed him out of the car where she bent and stretched her limbs. Her neck felt a bit funny from the position she fell asleep in on the ride over to Clifden.

“God, remind me to not fall asleep in the car again…,” Y/N grumbled.

Sherlock glanced at Y/N before making a mental note for future reference.

Before any of them could say another word, a joyous voice interrupted. It was Hilton Cubitt in all his glory. He welcomed the trio with a smile and quickly ushered them into his home.

It was a quaint old house made of a grey study brick. While small in stature it was the perfect size for Hilton and his family of three. It was a house that followed the same structure as many others in the neighbourhood: Black pointed roofs, red doors, and window casing to match its crimson hue. Alongside the home was a small garden, which Y/N assumed would be in full bloom if it weren’t for the current seasonal climate.

Hilton graciously led the trio into his living room where they each found a seat on the black leather couch across from where Hilton sat.

“I’m so glad you are here!” Hilton smiled. “Would any of you like tea? Water?”

Although John and Y/N would have loved to have a nice cup of tea, the way Sherlock was eyeing the two of them told John and Y/N that any distractions from the case at hand, including getting some tea, were unacceptable.

“Mr. Cubitt if you could explain to us where you found the latest code.”

Hilton nodded and cleared his throat. “On the windowsill like the last one. Mr Holmes,” Hilton’s voice grew grave. “There’s another. It was out in the garden where I found the paper on the sundial.” Hilton reached into his pocket to pull out another sheet of paper.

Sherlock eagerly took the slip of paper. “What did you do after finding the code?” Sherlock inquired as John and Y/N sat attentively listening.

“I showed it to my wife and she feinted from the shock–fear, I’m not quite sure. That’s when I knew that I should send a photo of it to you Mr. Holmes. If this message got my wife feeling this much fear then…” Hilton shivered. “Then it must be bad.”

Sherlock rose his hand to his chin taking note of everything Cubitt had so far said when John spoke up.

“Could all this trouble be saved if you just talked to your wife?” John asked. He was a bit annoyed with this singular aspect of the case. Clearly, Elise Cubitt knows what the code says and possibly who it is from. One word from her and the case could be solved, the culprit dealt with, and then everyone is happy.

At John’s words, Hilton’s gaze fell and he crossed his arms over his torso, shaking his head. “I promised her and a promise is a promise. If Elise wanted to tell me, she would. If not, it is not my place to force her.” Hilton paused for a moment gauging the reactions of the three in front of him. Something in one of their faces urged him to continue. “You can’t ask her either. She does not need to be put under any more stress and fear.”

Just then a woman and a young child entered the room. They were giggling and chatting as they carried groceries in their arms. The young girl gasped and smiled at the strange new faces in her home before running over to her father. The girl’s mother, on the other hand, had a vastly different reaction. She made quick work of readjusting her hold on the grocery bags removing her hands from sight. Y/N noticed how the woman’s face paled to a bluish tone which made her golden hair grow a sickening yellow. Her voice began to quaver as she strolled over to her husband.

“Hilton, what’s this?” Elise asked.

Hilton picked up his little girl and placed her in his lap. “These people are here to help us,” He said in a soft voice that one would only use when speaking to a child. Except his words were not directed to his daughter, but to his concerned wife.

She did not speak another word as she dropped the groceries off in the nearby kitchen before removing her and her daughter from the room to allow them privacy.

Once his wife vacated the room, Hilton sighed with his whole body and his chest heaved as if he was about to cry. “Sorry,” Hilton muttered as he collected himself.

Y/N looked at John and Sherlock before leaning forward and asking a question of her own.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but has Elise said anything?”

Hilton shook his head and glanced out a nearby window. “She hasn’t…but there have been sometimes where I think she might say something. I was clear that she wanted to, but something was stopping her.”

“Have you found anything out yourself these past few weeks, Mr Cubitt?” Sherlock asked now chiming back into the conversation.

Hilton’s gaze was removed from the window. “Yes. A friend of mine who lives in town found another code this morning. I thought that we could go look at it together when you arrived.”

Sherlock’s raised his brow with intrigue before immediately standing up out of his seat.

No one else had risen from their seat. Each of them still felt that there was more to be discussed, yet Sherlock was a spontaneous man. When a case called or something caught his captious eye that was something he must do the soonest moment possible.

Sherlock’s eye twitched at the stillness in his companion’s figures before clearing his throat. It was his signal that they were to leave and Hilton would lead them to the latest part of the code.

“Right,” Hilton said. He slapped his lap as he stood up. The moment Hilton stood up, John and Y/N were quick to follow.

Hilton quickly retrieved his things before calling out to his wife and daughter and telling them that he was going to be out for a bit. Elise only nodded as her shaking eyes glanced over Sherlock and his friends.

“It’ll only take a moment to arrive there,” Hilton explained as he led the group to his car.

As Y/N opened the backseat of the car, she felt a chill brush on the back of her neck. Y/N rose a hand to brush away the cold when she felt something staring at her. She turned to look back at Hilton’s house and in the window was Elise. The woman gasped upon noticing Y/N’s stare and in an instant, she was gone. The only remnant of her presence was the ripple of the curtain as it fell back into place.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Strange,” she whispered to herself before sneaking into the back seat of the car next to John.

________

Buildings built closely together: a pub, the grocery store, a hair salon, an apartment building. Each piece of architecture was more colourful than the next. Y/N was sure she’d never seen such a colourful street in her life. While there was some colour in London, there was next to none in Wisconsin.

As the bright colours in front of her swirled into a gorgeous kaleidoscope, she remembered her childhood home– Menomonee Falls. Her hometown in the United States was nothing short of stark contrast. Nature was ever-present in Menomonee Falls from the breathtaking trees as they turned from jade green to a burning gold in the autumn weather and the flowing rivers to the three-step staircase that is called a waterfall.

Even though Menomonee Falls lacked in colour like Clifden, Y/N thought that the community of people was more than enough to make up for it. The people of Menomonee Falls were like their own rainbow of personality. She recalled the tales that she’d heard from those she passed on the street. With a cheerful smile and hello, mere strangers would embark on relaying their whole life story to you.

Y/N chuckled as she thought of her old home, the fondest of memories from Halloween where she’d go to haunted houses in people’s garages and maybe partake in a barbeque or two. The parents’ sore feet and even smaller patience to deal with their children were relieved by the passing out of beer as the children received their treats. Menomonee Falls was home. Y/N shook her head with a smile. No, it was no longer home. Her thoughts cleared as her gaze fell on John and Sherlock as they walked alongside Hilton Cubitt. This was her home–with Sherlock, John, Mrs Hudson, and Bjørn. 221B Baker Street was where she was supposed to be. Y/N was sure of it. She’d call it destiny if she believed in that kind of stuff.

“It’s down this alleyway here,” Hilton said. He pointed his finger to the right and the group collectively turned in the direction. Y/N was surprised at how well-kept the alleyway was. I made sense though, as she had previously seen numerous people before her use them as walkways. Y/N was so caught up in her thought that she almost crashed right into Sherlock’s tall frame.

“Sorry,” she quickly muttered not knowing if Sherlock even heard her.

For Sherlock hearing was something completely different from listening. While he did hear Y/N’s quick apologies for ‘not’ bumping into him, he was not listening. All his attention was on the black spray-painted stick figures on the wall.

It was a shame that the light-yellow shade of the building was tainted by the dripping black paint of the code. As Sherlock observed every detail and position of the figures, his mind was aware noting it all down and connecting the dots. It was just like all the other ones before. Located in a place that Elise Cubitt frequented. However, all the other ones were at the Cubitt home, this one was out of the way. This meant that the culprit must have known Elise’s schedule: Where she liked to frequent, how often she left her home, and what routes she takes to arrive at her destinations.

“...hasn’t seen it. She refuses to leave the house for anything other than the necessities.” Hilton explained to John and Y/N. The two of them listened carefully knowing that all of Sherlock’s attention was on the wall.

Sherlock’s brow raised in intrigue before turning away from the wall to face Hilton. Y/N could see there was a fire in his eyes. Something Hilton had said must have broken the man from his ‘detective’ mode, as Y/N called it.

“Say that again,” Sherlock commanded.

Hilton was startled. He cleared his throat and then asked Sherlock to repeat himself.

“Say that,” Sherlock motioned with his hands in a sort of reverse movement, ”again.”

“She refuses to leave the house…?” Hilton sheepishly said unsure of what exactly Sherlock was asking of him.

Sherlock pinched his brow and groaned. “No. Before that.”

Hilton’s eye lit up finally understanding Sherlock’s request. “Oh, erm, Elise hasn’t seen this one yet. At least I do not think she has.”

There was a drop in Sherlock’s expression. One that only John and Y/N could catch. “Y/N take a photo.” She nodded and quickly did as Sherlock had asked. “Mr. Cubitt. I believe it was a mistake coming here. We need to return back to your home.”

Hilton’s face paled at Sherlock’s words. “What are you saying, Mr. Holmes?”

“I am saying that this was a distraction. You are no longer at the house. Your wife is alone. The perfect opportunity for the culprit to arrive.”

_______

Hilton drove with carelessness. His heart pounded in his chest as Sherlock’s words echoed in his mind. He kept trying to tell himself that he’d be safe, yet love is a powerful fuel for worry. Like gasoline to the flame, Hilton’s anguish grew as the minutes ticked by.

The worry they all felt was only fulfilled when they returned back to the Cubitt household. The sun had set and the only lights around were the street lamps and the lights from the home. The yellow glow was just enough to illuminate a large black figure scaling down the wall. He had climbed down from the window on the top floor. His legs bent when they hit the ground.

The car still had the keys in the ignition when Hilton swiftly removed himself from the car. His long strides transitioned into a dash as he charged the figure with Sherlock and the others not far behind. He called out in fury at the man triggering him to run away.

“Get back here!” Hilton cried as he charged after him.

“Hilton!” Elise screamed at her husband as he chased the intruder.

The woman was flailing out the front door. Her hands waved around frantically. At first, Y/N assumed that she was running to her husband in fear hoping to run into the safe arms of her husband, but that notion was soon destroyed when Elise’s voice yelled at her husband.

“Hilton! Stop! Don’t!”

His love was calling for him and there was no bone in Hilton’s body that could not refuse. While Hilton’s step faltered as he stared at his wife with utter shock, Sherlock and John continued the chase. It seemed too often they found themselves running after or away from something.

Suddenly Elise’s body came crashing into her husband's as she enveloped him in a hug. She muttered something into his skin causing Hilton to grow even more aghast. Elise then looked up and saw that Sherlock and John were still running after the man. The two men were barking orders at each other trying to determine the best possible way to catch the fiend.

Back at the house, the wails of a small child filled the air as Hilton and Elise’s daughter emerged from the house. The look of pure terror in her eyes was enough to make anyone’s heartbreak. The young girl wasn’t the only one who was startled. Y/N could see Elise’s lips quiver and her eyes worriedly follow John and Sherlock as they chased the man. Once night overcame those in the chase, Elise’s nervous eyes locked with Y/N’s.

Y/N saw Elise as she hugged her husband tighter before burrowing her head in the crook of Hilton’s shoulder to hide from Y/N. Everything about Elise screamed guilt as the training Sherlock made Y/N endure on the flight over to Ireland kicked into action. The biggest piece of evidence that caught Y/N’s eye was the woman’s hands. They were black. The paint seemed to glow against her pale white skin. All evidence Y/N had gathered pointed to one thing: Elise was in on it.

______

The air grew tense as John and Sherlock darted across the yard. Sherlock cursed the night. If it weren’t so dark it wouldn’t have been so hard to find the man. Numerous times Sherlock found himself tripping over stones or tree roots.

John was faring no better. Chasing a man in all black in the pitch black of night on a cold November night. It was pure torment. The cold seeped into his bones while his muscles were on fire. It was a horrific contrast that made his breath only heavier.

“Sherlock!” John gasped.

The detective continued in his pursuit.

John sighed as he placed his hands on his thighs and leaned over taking the largest breaths in his life. Sherlock also happened to wear black. While chasing the intruder through the night was somewhat acceptable, running after Sherlock was not. John had spent too much of his life running after the man. Sherlock’s legs were much too long and moved at a faster speed than John’s shorter legs and slower pace could keep up with.

By the time John’s breath finally returned to a reasonable rate, Sherlock had returned. All sorts of frustration were apparent on the consulting detective’s face.

“Gone,” Sherlock heaved.

“Right,” John nodded his head. “Cause how likely would it have been to catch a man in black in the dead of night when he had quite the head start on us.”

Sherlock whipped his head around to John and sent him a glare.

“Where’s Y/N?” Sherlock’s asked. He hadn’t realized he had said it aloud until John replied to him.

“Back at the house. She was smart enough to know not to run,” John muttered.

Sherlock hummed before taking a step towards the house. “Let’s go then. I’d like to have a word with Mrs. Cubitt.

______

“I was scared for –” Elise explained.

“Oh, that’s it then?” Hilton barked.

“Yes, Hilton! I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself, Elise,” Hilton hissed. “It’s you and He wasn’t believing his wife’s words of concern. He could have caught the man. He could have stopped all this madness if it weren’t for his wife’s pleas. He could help but think that maybe Elise knew who the man was. It seemed to Hilton that his wife was more concerned about the man in black coming to harm than him.

Elise opened her mouth to reply when John and Sherlock entered the house. Elise quickly folded her arms concealing her hands from view and excused herself upstairs where her daughter was waiting to be consoled and tucked back into bed.

Sherlock’s eye was guided along as he followed Elise’s ascent up the stairs. His mind crawled back to what John had said earlier. This case could be solved with a word from Elise Cubitt. She knew. Sherlock felt like it was safe to say that not only did she know the code, but she knew the man behind the drawings as well.

“Hilton–” Sherlock began.

“He left another message,” Hilton seethed as he clutched his forehead. It began to throb under his touch. For a moment he considered going against his promise. After all, Hilton’s loved his wife and daughter with his whole heart. He’d do anything to keep them safe. Even if it meant opening a wound he promised not to touch.

“Where?” Sherlock commanded.

Y/N stepped forward. The code could wait. The case could wait. The Cubitt family had been through enough this night. Y/N reached for Sherlock’s shoulder and nudged him away from Hilton.

“Sherlock…the code can wait.” She looked to John for help. “It’s getting late. We should be going.”

Sherlock shook his head and was about to scold Y/N for even suggesting a thing when his gaze met hers. Her eyes glossed over as she pleaded with him.

“Sherlock–” Y/N whispered.

“Send me the code Hilton,’ Sherlock said. Then he turned to his friends. “John. Y/N.”

The mention of their names was enough for them to understand it was time to leave. They bid their goodbyes and headed out of Hilton’s house. There wasn’t a word spoken as they returned to the car.

Each sat in the seats with their minds afire; thoughts abuzz about the case and Elise. Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Elise: her black hands, the fear in her eyes, the concern for the man, and the obvious lies that her husband refused to bring to light. The key of this case lied in Elise.

______

Y/N felt like she could practically collapse against the door of her hotel room and pass out in the hallway from exhaustion. The crick in her neck was feeling any better, in fact, Y/N was sure it was feeling worse.

There was a beep and the door to her hotel room swung open. She sighed in relief as she lugged her small bag of luggage into the room. All she wanted to do at the moment was fling herself onto the bed and sleep. That would be an issue, so long as she knew which bed to sleep in.

She rubbed her eyes awake. That wasn’t supposed to be the case. She was supposed to have a room with one bed. John and Sherlock were to have the one with two. With a puzzled look on her face, Y/N pulled out her phone. John or Sherlock hadn’t said anything to her leading Y/N to think that maybe the hotel made a mistake and that both rooms had two beds.

______

The hotel had made a mistake. That’s all John could think of as he and Sherlock stood in the doorway to their hotel room. Both men stood with perplexed expressions on their faces. Neither of them wanted to address the elephant in the room, yet something had to be said sooner or later.

“I’m too tired for this,” John grumbled under his breath. John stepped into the room and dropped his bag on a chair near the bed. “Right, I’ll take th–”

“I’ll take the bed,” Sherlock stated as he threw his own bag onto the bed claiming.

John’s mouth was thrown wide open. He was going to offer up the bed in the first place, being a good friend in all, but after Sherlock’s explicit claim on the bed, all thoughts of John’s niceties flew out the window.

With a huff, John picked up his bag and dropped it onto the bag. “Sherlock.”

“John.”

“The bed is big enough for the both of us,” John noted. His brown eyes glared right at Sherlock’s.

“Wrong. The bed is fit for only one.” Sherlock removed his eyes from John and looked at the bed. The dimensions would never allow two grown men to share it. Sherlock needed all the room he could get with his lengthy limbs.

John sighed. “I’m the veteran.” He was going to pull all the cards he could to beat Sherlock.

“Yes, good for you. The bed is mine,” Sherlock dictated.

John chuckled. “Oh no it’s not.”

Sherlock raised a brow questioningly at his friend. “You sure about that?”

______

The phone was ringing that familiar ringtone that belonged to only one person: Jim. Y/N groaned and rolled off the bed that she claimed was her own. He was only checking up on her like they had promised. It was sweet of him to call her and put the effort in. She could almost say it was perfect if everything else hadn’t also been perfect.

She tried to move past her concerns and continue to see Jim. Yet after her late-night conservation with Sherlock, the more she thought about wanting more. It wasn’t fair to Jim. He was perfect in every way, yet here she was thinking about a curly-headed detective who drive her insane every hour of the day. She almost hated that she wanted Sherlock to kiss her that night. Almost. It was wrong. She was with Jim. She liked Jim. Jim made her happy. Sherlock was her boss. The man whose brother paid her to watch over him. Sherlock was her friend. One of her best friends if she could admit it. Not to mention he was her neighbour and surrogate son to her great Aunt.

Y/N would have continued to think of Sherlock if it were for the incessant ringing of her phone. Against her better judgment, she picked up the phone and answered the call. Her voice faked a smile and she found herself easily able to put the tone of excitement in her voice.

“Hey, babe,” Y/N said. She could hear Jim chuckle over the phone.

“You sound tired,” He noted with his Irish accent.

“You could say that…” Y/N answered. ”How’s work going?” She scolded herself for asking such an ordinary question. She could do better. After all, Jim was her perfect boyfriend, but the conversation seemed so forced with Jim. Unlike how easy it was to converse with Sherlock.

“Well, it’s finally starting to return to normal. Had to clean up a few loose ends after the last consultation,” Jim explained.

“You’re not working too hard are you?” Y/N said. She couldn’t help but be concerned for Jim. She did like him and cared for him.

“No, nothing I can’t handle. Right, well, I won’t keep you long,” Jim smiled. “Just wanted to check in with you and tell you about a t–”

Bang! Something had hit the other side of the wall by her head. The sound jolted Y/N to a sitting position.

“What was that?” Jim asked concerned.

“...I’m not sure.” Y/N eyed the wall carefully before returning to her conversation with Jim. “What were you saying?”

“A trip.”

Y/N could practically hear the excitement from Jim’s side of the phone. “A trip?”

“I’ll some time off of work after my next big project. Thought that maybe you and I could travel a bit,” Jim proposed.

“I–”

There was that banging again. “Jim, I have to go…”

THUD.

“Goodnight love,” Jim said.

“Goodnig–” BANG! “Heaven’s sake.”

The phone went silent as the commotion next door continued. Y/N’s mouth pursed in thought as she tried to think of who could be next door to her when the sudden realization hit her. Her eyes widened in shock. She had booked the two rooms to be right next to each other. The banging was coming from John and Sherlock’s room.

______

What started as an assertion of dominance with the presence of their travel bags on the bed was now a full-on physical wrestle between the two men. All notions of exhaustion and common sense flew out the window when the fight for the bed began.

John was underneath Sherlock at the moment, which was a good place to be. If only he had just enough leverage or a falter in Sherlock’s resistance, then John would surely be able to claim the bed for the night. In turn, dooming Sherlock to sleep on the floor of their shared hotel room.

“Just give up Sherlock!” John scowled as he lodged an arm across Sherlock’s torso.

Sherlock grunted trying to get out of John’s grasp. Despite his smaller figure, he was surprised at how long John had been fairing in this fight. “Never,” Sherlock replied. “You’ll b–”

There was a knock on the door. It rang loud and clear. All movement between the two men halted as they tilted their heads in the direction of the door. Whoever was behind the door knocking tried again when their original attempt was given no answer. Again, John and Sherlock made no motion to move from their positions on the bed.

Then a muffled voice came from behind the door. “Sherlock. John. It’s me,” Y/N said.

If it was quiet before, the two men were now silent. The silence that came after Y/N’s voice gave way to Sherlock's hesitation. John could clearly see Sherlock’s shoulders slightly relax and his grip on John and the bed loosened. It was the perfect opportunity. The moment John had been waiting for, and he took his chance. No longer was Sherlock's body above John’s on the bed, but it was now seat flat on the floor by the side of the bed.

“Is everything alright in there?” Y/N asked the moment she heard yet another thump.

“Go answer her,” John whispered to Sherlock. In response, Sherlock glared at John from the ground. He wasn’t about to let John bark orders around, especially since he lost the bed to John.

“Sherlock? John?”

John briefly looked at the door before hissing at Sherlock to get up and open the door for Y/N.

Clenching his jaw, Sherlock brushed himself off and walked over to the door before opening it.

“I heard some banging noises and I–” Y/N said as she walked into the room. Then she caught sight of the condition of the sheets and the dishevelled state of, both, John and Sherlock. “Oh…umm, never mind.”

John’s face grew a bright red. “Not what you think. Just fighting over who got the bed, that’s all.”

Y/N couldn’t help the fit of giggles that came from her mouth. “Right,” She sarcastically said. “Anyways, I was coming to say the room that I’m in has two beds. I think we mixed up the key cards.”

Sherlock and John shared a brief look of embarrassment with each other as they both realized this entire scenario could have been solved with a quick word with Y/N. They’d both happily be in bed if it weren’t for their desire to win.

“I’ve already got this bed,” John blurted. “Sherlock can take the other bed. If that’s alright with you, Y/N.”

Y/N was caught off guard by John’s proposal and she became a stuttering mess. “Um, yeah–totally. I’m totally fine with it. With–yeah.”

The mere thought of what John had proposed sent a brilliant blush to Sherlock and Y/N’s cheeks; an expression that only John got to bear witness of. John smiled smugly at Sherlock as he motioned for him to take his bag and follow Y/N back to her room.

______

Sherlock had settled quite well into the extra bed in the hotel room that he was sharing with Y/N. He both cursed and thanked John for providing him with this opportunity to be near her. Something was triggered in Sherlock the night that Y/N confessed her discontent with her current relationship and boyfriend. It gave him hope, and hope was a dangerous thing. A hope that burned bright enough for John to catch on. It was a phenomenon that irked Sherlock. He wasn’t one to be easily read. He prided himself on keeping his thoughts and emotions on a tight lip. Yet here was John Watson acting as Sherlock Holmes himself with his ability to deduce his friend. Sherlock was regretting giving John training in observational skills.

Y/N sat on her bed and sheepishly played with the sleeve of her nighties. Her eyes were cast down to the carpet covering the floor. “I’m going to head to bed,” Y/N stated.

Sherlock gulped and nodded. Why was he feeling nervous? “Alright,” was Sherlock’s only reply.

“Are you not going to bed?” Y/N found herself asking.

Sherlock’s breath hitched at Y/N’s words. He couldn’t think about her. He wouldn’t allow himself to recall how peaceful she was when she slept. He refused to think about how warm her body was as he carried her into his bed during the case of the Blind Banker. His breath quickened as he sought something else to distract his mind with. “...I–the code. I’ll be working on the code.”

“No,” Y/N uttered. Her eyes widened at her abruptness. “I mean–It’s late Sherlock. We had an eventful day. You need to rest if you are going to solve this case and help the Cubitt family.”

Sherlock watched as Y/N began to fiddle with her hands. Her gaze avoided Sherlock’s. He had to admit that she was speaking with reason. Every word of hers was justified, yet Sherlock fear his sleep. He dread the thoughts that his mind would produce as he lay there waiting for sleep to take over. He scorned himself for knowing the dreams the sandman would give him that night in the proximity of her. Sherlock had to keep his mind busy and distracted; never giving it the chance to think of her. However, she had told him that it was best to sleep. She had spoken to him while his mind was not yet distracted by the code. She had broken through his defences and Sherlock now must admit defeat. So Sherlock nodded his head and pulled back the covers of his bed. He settled between the sheets and reached an arm to switch off the light beside his bed.

“Goodnight,” he whispered to Y/N as she did the same as him.

He could hear her breathing come to a calming pace. In and out. In and out it went. With each breath into Y/N’s lungs, Sherlock’s mind grew restless. He couldn’t think or dream of her even if it was all he seemed to do these days. So Sherlock would wait. He would wait until Y/N fell asleep. He would wait until he knew he would disturb her sleep and arise from the bed. He’d open his computer and work on the code. After all, the code was the key to the case. Sherlock would be one step closer to solving the case if he broke the code.

______

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

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Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat @biggerthancalli13 @themartiansdaughter @sunsumonner @silversword7000 @starlightaurorab @melody7 @astudyinlaura @sherlockstrangewolf @neroarrow83 @khaleesihavilliard

Also, I linked cyphers for the Dancing Men code if anyone would like to try their hand at solving the code alongside Sherlock.

Dancing Men Cipher - Sherlock Holmes Code - Online Decoder, Translator (dcode.fr)

Dancing Men Cipher - decoder, translator | Boxentriq

_____

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sugar-grigri · 1 year ago

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with you mentioning you might've changed your mind more to a hypothethicsl scenario of nayuta can become another makima/the boundary between the two isn't as strong, do you mean that in her narrative function or in the essence of what the control devil is and her goals? Or is it more on the lines of how the control devil adapts as it grows up as it was mentioned here before? I hope it makes sense, this being a part of csm I find fascinating and would love to see more of your thought abt it

Transgressing your nature

I started to change my stance on Nayuta as part 2 progressed and I saw the various fan positions on her. In fact, the more I thought about Fujimoto's writing, the more I thought that saying Nayuta ≠ Makima was what you wanted as a reader but not really what the author wrote

The clues I found to this were simply the fact that Fujimoto stubbornly refused to give us what we wanted (notably through the fact that Denji doesn't evolve as quickly as we'd like), the fact that he has no trouble killing off characters we'd be extremely attached to in a very traumatic way but also in the fact that Fujimoto can also write unexpected outcomes to problems: the loving response Denji offered Makima

I don't think Part 2 is really a narrative break with Part 1; whereas I used to think it was two works in one, more and more I get the impression that Fujimoto intends to flesh out characters who don't appear in the same form as in Part 1.

Whether it's by shaping the story of the weapons more precisely, referring to characters who haven't yet appeared like Reze, or by developing Nayuta

Makima is one of the cornerstones of Chainsaw Man, and on top of that, the Knights of the Apocalypse have to be enigmatic.

Placing the former antagonist in the position of the hero's little sister is a Trojan horse, a way of making us believe that we now know the control demon, that we've seen most of its facets and that she's an undeniable ally.

But above all, no longer a threat

The story insists on this with the moments of pure brotherly love set up by Denji and Nayuta who protect each other, but the story also insists that the control demon is an entity to be protected when the little sister becomes the object of a dilemma, or rather blackmail by the public hunters.

This is where I started to have doubts, at what point did the control demon go from persecutor to something so vulnerable?

What Fujimoto does is deconstruct our foundations: CSM's identity, the most solid foundation of the whole manga, is questioned, Denji is no longer the only protagonist, his normal life isn't what he's been dreaming of, but above all Part 2 deconstructs itself

Barem seems to be one of the antagonists when I think he's the one who seems to have the clearest view of what's going on, I repeat he's naturally pierced Denji several times in the last few chapters and I think saying that Nayuta is a witch is no exception

I think that the control demon is taking advantage of the fact that she's a little girl to control her too, and that the level of danger between Makima and Nayuta is the same because they're the same entity, she's no longer instrumentalised and doesn't have universal objectives like Makima did with her desire to eradicate humanity's fears but personal objectives as a little girl.

I'm not saying that Nayuta is an antagonist or that she's dangerous for Denji, but she should be read like the rest of the characters in part 2, i.e. as a complex character.

Fujimoto continues to question his own antagonist: is it enough for the control demon to be immersed in a healthy environment for it not to be a threat?

It's a reflection that extends beyond the character of Nayuta, as it leads to questions about Yoru, the war demon who shares his brain with a teenager paralysed by grief and his relationship with others.

It also raises questions about Fami, whose goal of saving humanity is not one of empathy or affection, but of something primal: simply eating what she likes.

Are demons trapped in their functions? Or are they endowed with humanity? Can the knights of the apocalypse fight against their own nature, which is to set it in motion?

Is it not by falsely wanting to protect humanity that the demon of death is acting, as a reminder of their true mission as big sisters?

Is humanity a healthy environment for demons?

Or at least a logical environment for them? Demons are meant to sow fear, not fight humanity's fears.

Death, the most primal fear of all, is there to remind them of their essence.

The demon of death creates the feeling of fear in its own sisters, because it is thanks to this emotion that they find their origin.

By marking a continuity between Makima and Nayuta, this forces us to question the nature of the Knights of the Apocalypse, as well as the demons? Can they fight against their very reason for existing? It forces these same demons to question themselves. By fighting to wipe out humanity, aren't the three sisters setting the apocalypse in motion?

The first to symbolise this crossing of limits by eliminating their fears and loving a human is none other than Pochita.

Love is an anomaly for demons, just as it is an act of rebellion. Death, by depriving us of our flesh and blood and by being the most primal and universal fear, is opposed to this transgression of nature.

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un-monde-sans-regles · 1 year ago

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Greek Gods Theory - The Fall of the House of Usher

My original post on Reddit:

https://www.reddit.com/r/HouseofUsher/s/8blbeQU9Xz

Upon rewatching it, I realised strong parallels between the family members, visual choices, and plot points connected to Olympian Gods (like Prospero's Pegasus shirt, or Camille's greek patterned dress in one scene). I believe each character may represent a Greek Deity:

Fortunato: the company's name is a reference to Fortuna, Goddess of Luck.

Roderick: Zeus, famous for his many affairs and children, king of the Gods and Lord of Skies. Dethroned his tyrannical father Chronos to become king with his family.

Anabelle: combination of Hestia/Hera, goddesses connected to matrimony and household. Hera was Zeus's wife, whereas Hestia tended to the Olympian Fire (ginger Anabelle). Furthermore, Juno is Hera's Roman counterpart, and Juno Usher was failing that role miserably.

Madeline: Athena, Goddess of Warfare, Wisdom and Strategy, being a counselor mostly. Her obsession with artificial intelligence may also connect to Athena's mechanical owl in some versions. Much like Athena, she neither had kids nor a big interest in matrimony.

Prospero: Dionysius, God of Wine, Festivity and Madness. Roderick calls his son mad in one occasion, he's an animal party, and his biggest symbols are a mask (Dionysius's symbol) and red clothing, perhaps alluding to wine.

Camille: Hermes, Messenger of Gods, Merchant and Orators. She's a PR for the family, has silver hair (Mercury is the god's Roman counterpart), and is also seen in one scene sporting two vertical snakes on her dress, Hermes's symbol. Additionally, her cellphone is left on her tombstone (Messenger of Gods).

Victorine: Apollo, God of Sun, Arts, Music and Healing. It's said Apollo's arrows could inflict either Healing or Disease, much like her practice. Victorine's hearing is affected (music), she's mostly in orange or surrounded by it, and kills her girlfriend fearing betrayal (Apollo did the same to his lover Coronis).

Napoleon: Ares, God of War. He's seen constantly playing games (perhaps his warring desire), he's short tempered, loses his battle against the black cat in a fit of rage while wielding a weapon (hammer). Besides his name as a clue, he's got a ram/goat tattoo on his neck, rams being the Zodiac Sign Aries's animal (regent planet Mars = Ares). Whenever battles were lost, roosters were sacrificed to Ares, and during his final moments, Napoleon's scenes carried a yellow hue maybe representing the dawn.

Frederick: Hephaestus, God of Metallurgy. Freddie is in charge of destroying old factories, is constantly mocked by his siblings (much like Hephaestus), and is killed by machinery. The clearest connection is his wife: Hephaestus was married to Aphrodite, who had been caught in the act during one of her affairs with an invisible net made by him, trapping Aphrodite and her lover (his brother), after which Hephaestus invited everyone to see it.

Morelle: Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty. As mentioned before, she was caught cheating much like Aphrodite, and was called "a goddess" married to someone inferior in Prospero's words. Additionally, her name means Nightshade in French, also called Belladonna (the paralising poison's component), which is a flower symbolic of silence and betrayal.

Tamerlane: Hebe, Goddess of Youth, Prime of Life, and Cupbearer of the Gods. Her company alone is strongly tied to this goddess's domains. Additionally, she's married to a fitness celebrity, while Hebe was Heracles's wife. Her final moments are covered in a green light, ivy being Hebe's symbol.

Arthur: Hades/Thanatos, both gods related to the dead. Arthur's called the family's reaper, is seen walking on a floor covered in bodies (much like Styx River), and is also a proficient killer. Hades was also seen as the god of riches.

Lenore: Harmonia, Goddess of Harmony and Concord, Aphrodite's daughter in most accounts.

Verna: I gave her a lot of thought , considering Nemesis (Retribution), Themis (Justice), the Moirai (Three Goddesses of Fate in one), even Persephone (Goddess of the dead) and Nyx (Night). None fits perfectly. Knowing Morrigan's mythology (and Flanagan's Irish background), I believe she's truly Morrigan, as others have theorised, coming to mess with those greek gods.

#fall of the house of usher #series #mike flanagan #usher family #netflix #greek gods #greek mythology #olympian gods #edgar allan poe #theory #reddit #the fall of the house of usher

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variousqueerthings · 1 year ago

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I do think actually that ryan and yaz are clearer in my head than graham who's just "affable middle-aged guy with a dead wife"

yaz especially once she's no longer a copper is the clearest example of the classic (well classic to nu!who, potentially not so much in classic who) companion trait of trying to become the doctor, which does feel like it ties into her reasons for being police in the first place, which, I'll take that she never actually finished her training and just abandoned it once she met the doctor and made her entire life about those travels -- would have to go back and rewatch to see clues for that, but even if this is an accidental character development, I still think it works

(especially considering how yaz is the only one who holds out hope that the doctor is coming back and reacts very strongly when she does back)

ryan, in many ways, feels like he's travelling with the doctor for two reasons. the first is related to his own sense of inferiority, and fearing being left behind because he's experienced versions of that a lot, which then eventually gives away to enjoying the idea of adventure and putting off growing up a bit, although I think there are a lot of cracks being shown in that, because he is growing up, and I think he'd have a much easier time returning to a life on earth than yaz. this also partially because ryan overall has less in-depth character development, but I do think he did start in a place and move from it, with a couple of core episodes

graham I actually feel should not have been such a constant companion. I think a few adventures would have been fine with him, but I don't think his character has really changed in any material way, he's just there, and I think a lot of his stuff could have easily folded into ryan's stories and been the stronger for it

#im watching nu!who #im watching whittaker who #doctor who #dw #my two sence

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quirkthieves · 9 months ago

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@4heroes liked this for a villain ibara au starter

"Oh... You are but a lamb. How cruel, that they have sent a child into my thicket."

Despite the thick, thorny vines digging into Midoriya's limbs and throat, warm palms gently cup his face, bringing him eye to eye with the natural disaster-- who appeared to be a girl no older than him, even though she had called him a child.

In fact, despite the rivulets of blood bubbling in the wake of the thorns on his skin, the villain didn't radiate malice in the slightest. His brows knit together, and dark eyes quickly fill with tears.

"I don't know why... I don't know why they keep sending you to me! I will not suffer such negligence-- Be not afraid, my child. You will be safe from such indignities here." One hand gives him a reassuring caress before the villain pulls away, looking around her makeshift clearing fretfully. Behind her, past his mumbling and fidgeting, was the reason Izuku was there; a wall of crucified heroes and villains (and some civilians), from Chargebolt and Cellophane to Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady, to now Bakugo-- all painfully entangled in thorns and unconscious; some, like Mt. Lady and Bakugo, had them far more concentrated around the mouth and throat, making it clear how they had been neutralized. Until now, no hero had made it to the center of the rapidly-expanding vine infestation and returned to tell the tale, leaving the other heroes on the scene with no clue as to what the nature of the problem or the individual responsible could even be. Hellflame and Half-Hot, Half-Cold, ran the risk of turning the quarter of the city that was entangled in greenery into a giant conflagration trap, and so they had been forced to try and maintain a strong border against the overgrowth and prevent it from tearing down even more buildings while Midoriya feigned capture with a bodycam and location tracker at the ready.

"Oh, poor thing...He's just a boy." The crown of thorns at Ibara's temples circles and tightens as he laments, reopening chains of scabs that indicated this wasn't the only time it had happened that day. "But when they send you-- but when those devils send their lambs to me, they come with the hearts of wolves. The last boy... the last boy they sent me tried to pull out my roots...! Ahh... I don't know..." Bakugo's defeat hadn't been without a cost; the clearest of which was a blotch of charring and blood over one temple, accompanied by the odd branching of torn up root ends, ones normally hidden under the skin. The vines over it hadn't regrown, either.

"God, is this boy meant to be my Isaac? Will his blood prove my devotion?" All of the vines writhe as she clasps her hands, causing the captives who still have the wherewithal to groan in pain to do so. Tears continue to flow, and while she groans with frustration, one could catch a glimpse of a tongue dyed black. Further surveying of the scene reveals a small backpack-- not destroyed and marked with the insignia of a regional private Christian junior high, glimmering with vials of trigger.

"Oh, lamb! You do not lie as these others do, do you?" She turns back to him, two hands tugging at his own scalp in an attempt to self-soothe. "I will let you bear witness to my ministry if you be good. I do not want to discipline you unless i must!"

#4heroes #APOCRYPHA://MISC IBARA AU #PIERCED GOSPEL://IBARA IC

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leonsrightlations · 1 year ago

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The Earth is Online Chapter 15.1

(Under cut to prevent spoilers.)

“Your first words were, ‘I am also not a stowaway.’ This sentence is saying, ‘the previous person and I are the same. Neither of us are stowaways.’”

The young woman’s whole face was covered in tears. She unceasingly shook her head in denial.

Tang Mo said, “According to the current situation, without a doubt, the probability of me being a stowaway is the lowest. Next is him, then him.” He pointed one by one to Li Bin and Luo Fengcheng.

He raised his head. “However, there’s no person we can be certain definitely isn’t a stowaway. There’s also a possibility that I’m a stowaway. But your first words just acknowledged that the chef who spoke before you isn’t a stowaway. The one who knows for sure that the chef isn’t a stowaway is only the stowaway themself.”

The young woman’s body shivered and she didn’t stop wiping her tears, but now there was no one who would again dare to approach and console her.

No matter how weak her outward appearance was, she had been a murderer all along.

Li Bin also sharply nodded. “That’s right. When I heard you say what you said, I felt that there was something fishy. Regarding what happened during those three days, you remember it the clearest and can even declare specific times. You definitely made up this lie early on to be able to make such a smooth declaration.”

This point was very obvious. As soon as Li Bin pointed it out, Li Wen and the other two with him [1] were all suddenly illuminated.

“So it’s like this! You’re definitely a stowaway. Such a small child can really go as far as killing someone? That’s too awful.”

The young woman was still working hard to make excuses. “I haven’t…” But after wailing a few sentences, she seemed to also feel she couldn’t make people believe her again, and gave up struggling. She didn’t speak again and only continued to weep.

Paying no attention to the cook’s lament, Tang Mo said, “Mr. Luo, do you think this guess is correct?”

Luo Fengcheng had always been standing at the side not speaking. When Tang Mo suddenly steered the topic in his direction, he only rhetorically asked, “Do we now still have to guess who the stowaway is? You don’t need to mention other clues. These two points are already enough to prove who the stowaway is. It’s just that I’m quite curious… Who did you kill?”

Everyone’s gazes all turned to the young woman.

No matter how many tears there are, they will eventually run dry, but people’s fears won’t disappear.

In the corner of the underground cavern, the big mole rustled as it dug, whistling a sharp, mocking tune. It took out a piece of bloody meat from who knows where and chewed on it with its big mouth, its tiny eyes surreptitiously looking at the seven people. The young woman fearfully shivered, unable to cry anymore. She looked to Lin Qiao in search of help. Lin Qiao was still soft-hearted and couldn’t bear it, turning her head so that she wasn’t looking at the young woman. What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve. [2]

After a good long time, a hoarse voice softly sounded.

“You have all decided that I’m a stowaway? Yes, I killed him. But that can’t be considered murder. It absolutely can’t!” The young woman lowered her head. No one could have imagined that the young woman whose voice was ice cold like steel was the one who had just now been weeping pitifully. She raised her head. “Can that be considered murder? I gave him life!”

The voice of one who had been forced into desperate straits resonated in the cave, shrill and ear-piercing.

At this time, many of them remembered. This young woman seemed very thin and weak and her expression was also very bad, but just because she looks petite doesn’t mean she was an ignorant child. She wasn’t little. **[3]**

Tang Mo frowned in astonishment. This answer completely went beyond his expectations. Without waiting for him to speak, Luo Fengcheng already said, “You didn’t eliminate your parents?”

A mournful, helpless expression flitted across the young woman’s face. “How can I eliminate my mom and dad? They’re so good to me. The one I eliminated…it’s that thing that shouldn’t have been born!”

Her answer was abundantly clear. This time, even the cook, who was the least clever of them, understood.

The young woman said in an ice-cold tone, “You all say that I lied, but it can’t actually be called lying. I didn’t need to make up those words, because for the past three months, I’ve lived this kind of life. I was cheated by a scumbag and accidentally became pregnant. The doctor said it had been more than seven months and I couldn’t have an abortion. It was very possible that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to have children again afterward, and my life might even be in danger. I absolutely didn’t want that child. But my mom said she didn’t want me to regret it afterward and also didn’t want me to take that kind of risk. The child would be raised by them. They had me give birth to that thing.”

The young woman raised her tear-stained face, her line of sight sweeping past each and every person.

“I’m not as smart as you and I don’t have any use to you, but I only want to live well. To live my life. During those three days, I was hospitalized. On the evening of the second day, I gave birth to that thing.”

Tang Mo’s eyes flashed.

Actually, in the young woman’s words, there had been another two obvious gaps.

One of those was that she said her mom didn’t care about the Black Tower problem. If her mom really didn’t fear the Black Tower, why did she say, on the evening of the second day, that phrase, ‘don’t be afraid?’ What was there to fear from the Black Tower?

This was a contradiction from beginning to end.

Tang Mo initially thought the young woman was lying and not doing a good job of it. Now it seemed that this phrase, ‘don’t be afraid,’ was said so that she would be unafraid and do her best to give birth to the child. No matter what happened later, don’t be afraid of any of it.

“So long as you’re good, I’ll be fine.” This was her mom that, as a mother, she would spare no effort to protect her child. She wouldn’t let her child land in desperate straits.

The young woman’s expression was vicious but her eyes still flashed with a thread of regret and reluctance. Her tone was resolute. “That evening, he was crying. I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stand it… I eliminated him. He absolutely shouldn’t exist!”

Lin Qiao couldn’t help but say, “You didn’t have to give him life, but you gave him life. He had the right to live.”

“He was going to ruin my life! I’m not even married!” [4] The young woman’s eyes saddened and turned red.

Tang Mo flatly said, “He was just born.”

The young woman suddenly choked and silently lowered her head, not speaking again.

This truth was different from what Tang Mo had imagined. He originally thought the young woman had killed someone by accident, most probably her parents. Because she was barely an adult and was too naive, she wasn’t burdened with the feeling that she had killed someone, and all the things she’d said were lies. The truth was that she detested that child, so even when she was exposed, she completely lacked remorse or panic.

The cook excitedly wrung his hands. “So we found the stowaway, right? We don’t need to die, right? That big mole wants her, not us.”

These words were a bit unpleasant. Li Bin knit his brows. “En, she already admitted that she’s a stowaway.”

Tang Mo said, “What is your ability? Stowaways and official players are the same. They all definitely have abilities.”

The young woman had previously almost been grabbed by the big mole to be eaten up and she hadn’t displayed her ability.

Tang Mo thought about it and said, “Does it have something to do with that flashlight?”

The young woman wiped the tears on her face. “You want to know what my ability is?”

Not only Tang Mo, Luo Fengcheng also said, “It should have something to do with the flashlight.”

The young woman clenched her fingers and suddenly gave a strange laugh. “Yes, I’m a stowaway. You want to deliver me to that mole? My mom died, my dad died, I also have to die…don’t any of you think about living either!”

In an instant, a huge match appeared in the young woman’s palm.

It might be because she had just given birth, but even though she had an ability and her constitution had increased, she was still very short and thin. The match was practically half as tall as her. She brandished the big match and rushed toward everyone, first charging at the cook who had just then taken delight in her misfortune and wanted her to go die.

“I’ll kill you! If I die, don’t even think about living!!!”

[PREV] [TOC] [NEXT]

Important footnotes this time please read them!!!!! Scroll down to **[3]** and beyond if you don't want to read anything else.

Half a chapter this week and next week. Potentially the next two weeks as well. Unfortunately, I work in retail and it's the holiday season (among other things). I just don't have the energy to do a full chapter each week at the moment. ):

Character Refresher:

Li Bin (李彬), 29, male, works at a PR firm.

Peng Yu Wen (彭玉雯), 18, female, first year of university. Small, looks like a junior high student.

Tang Mo (唐陌), 23, male, librarian. Our protagonist! :D

Li Wen (黎文), 25, male, unemployed. A foolishly sweet second generation who plays around with female celebrities!?!?

Lin Qiao (林巧), 20, female, university student, Gamer.

Zhao Xiang (赵翔), 32, male, former chef.

Luo Fengcheng (洛风城), 28, Black Tower researcher, wears glasses and looks refined.

Uncle Mole (鼹鼠叔叔), a cute mole who is eating melon seeds meat and wishing a Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate! ^_^

Translation Notes:

[1] 黎文三人 - lit. Li Wen’s three people, i.e. the group of three people headed by Li Wen. This should be referring to Lin Qiao and the cook.

[2] 眼不见为净 - lit. what’s unseen is clean

(jk Lin Qiao's too nice for that)

**[3]** This is an important translation note so I put asterisks next to it. Comparing this paragraph to the original online text cleared up a lot of things that were confusing me about this whole arc both because of the text itself and my memories of reading TEIO the first time. It felt weird to me that the published version kept referring to her as a little girl even though she’s eighteen and only two years younger than Lin Qiao. The text also kept calling her a junior high student and Luo Fengcheng even implies that her lack of reaction stems from her innocence as a child. Can an eighteen year old university student still be called an ignorant child who doesn’t understand what murder is?? I also remember being way less suspicious of her the first time I read the novel and I like to think I’m at least a LITTLE bit harder to trick…

However!!!!!

It turns out that she’s eighteen in the print version and was fifteen in the original text. This makes the entire way she’s viewed by the other characters and spoken about by the narrator make way way way more sense. I intend to go back and edit the ‘young woman’s into ‘little girl’s to preserve the author’s original intention. I haven’t decided whether I’ll go back and alter the age back to the original yet. Feel free to comment if you have an opinion. I think it’s pretty obvious that this change was made due to censorship (the reasons for which should become clear in the rest of this chapter) and not as a late stage edit by the author to better suit the text.

[4] Just reiterating the above footnote by saying that her original response is that her life would be ruined because she is only fifteen. This also makes Tang Mo’s following retort make a lot more sense. “Maybe you are only fifteen, but he was just born.” <- is the original subtext.

[further footnote] There are additional changes throughout this part of the text that really bring home the point about her age. For example, when the official print version says 'she's barely an adult' the original text says that fifteen isn't that young and that she's almost an adult. There are also additional details about her relationship with the father of the child and his responsibility in the situation. Also, rather than the way the print version insists on referring to her actions as 'elimination,' she directly says she smothered the baby with a pillow. :|

So...uh...

See you next week!

#the earth is online #地球上线 #translation #mo chen huan #danmei #teio #15.1

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al-mayriti · 2 years ago

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i realized i never discussed who i think will pass from each semifinal to the benidorm fest final on february 4th (aaaa so close!!!) so here i am :)

just in case, here are the acts of each semi-final (they're not in order btw)

4 songs from each semi-final will go on to the final; imo the first semifinal is gonna be more intense and competitive than the second semifinal ALTHOUGH this all depends on staging of course.

so, i'm gonna go throuhg each semifinal saying which are my wishes vs which songs i think are gonna actually pass. it's interesting cause there aren't any clear 8 finalist songs, which is gonna make it all more exciting i think.

for the first semifinal, my wish is for agoney, alice wonder, fusa nocta, and megara to go to the final. however, aritz is the favourite of the judges so he'll probably be a finalist. alice and fusa are finalists, those are probably the two clearest finalists of the whole bunch. aritz is gonna substitute either megara or agoney, and i don't really know which one is gonna be. on one hand, agoney and aritz's songs are very similar, but agoney is ranking very high in the rankings, while not everybody could like megara's vibe and sound. so idk.

for the second semifinal, my wish is for blanca paloma, karmento, rakky ripper, and vicco to pass. out of those, maybe blanca paloma is the only one who has a real posibility to be a finalist, the rest are a bit on the air. it's true that vicco is very popular in the rankings and the song is a fucking bop, but i feel the staging isn't gonna be great idk why. i think josé otero is gonna pass, cause he sings a power ballad and those are always appreciated by the public and especially the judges. i cannot predict who the fourth one could be tho; maybe karmento, or maybe alfred? maybe siderland? rakky??? no clue honestly, this semifinal is very uncertain.

finally, as of right now, my winner is alice wonder. i think it's because the result of everything is gonna depend a lot on staging and the live performances of each act, and i already know alice is gonna kill it, whereas my other faves (fusa, vicco, rakky, blanca, megara) are gonna bit more of a gamble. i'm sure this will have changed by next friday, but yeah. my vote is on alice wonder right now!

#benifest 2023 #benidorm fest 2023 #benifest #benidorm fest #also i've seen alice in interviews and she's so nice and humble and great jo #anyways yeah #those are my thoughts as of today #i can't wait for next week !!!!!!

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assortedvillainvault · 3 years ago

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Hello! Chance anon here! Can we get a continuation of the Blitzwing headcanons with how any or all of the personalities flirt with the human reader, please? I hope you’re having a wonderful day!

Chance anon you're single handedly fuelling my decent back into transformers hell, ily so much. My days are indeed wonderful so far, hope yours is too!

Blitzwings three personalities are... on a similar mission, but good lord they can't coordinate:

Icy x Reader

If the other two weren't so damn forward you would have no clue that his intentions were to date you. The problem with presenting as cold and unfeeling...people won't actually notice when you DO feel something. RIP.

Icy is, however, extremely observant and has the clearest memory of the three. All your little offhanded comments and throwaway remarks are stored in his head clear as crystal, there is NO chance that he's forgetting your meetups, hobbies or preferences.

He's actually dedicating energy to spending time with you and remebering what you like, which is something we doesn't do even for most members of his own team. It takes some...education on human customs and shopping (We do Not. Discuss. The Amazon delivery incident.) but his gift giving game is on Point.

He's also straight up the most likely to hit you with an innuendo with a completely blank expression, mans poker face is flawless, you've straight up considered thereapy for some of his one liners becuase SIR that did not sound innocent in the slightest you can't just DO that do you even KNOW WHAT THAT SOUNDED LIKE BECAUSE YOU'RE PLAYING IT LIKE YOU DON'T-

He does. He very much does. He delights in your flustered screaming and the second you realise this and reciprocate he's going to pounce.

Hothead x Reader

Hothead isn't just 'angry', though that is his go to emotion for a variety of reasons, he's actually just 'feelings' amped up to 11.

There's. There's going to be a lot of screaming. Invest in some earplugs. Please.

A lot of his backtalk and accusations (the time you were accused of being a spy for autobot high command was a definite new one) are actually fronts for awkwardness and soft fuzzies that he has no clue how to process.

He's the personality you see more than you hear, funnily enough. Typically when Blitzwing interacts with you a ~Feelings~ moment will occur, he will switch in with a a specacular stuttering blush and just as quickly switch out again to Icy or Random in a desperate attempt to play it off.

In the absence of meaningful words, he's going. To Flex.

No seriously he loves feeling your eyes on him when he's doing something impressive, Blitzwing is phenominally strong and experienced but among decepticons open admiration is discouraged. Your sparkly eyes and awed gasps are pure high grade for him.

He's going to bench press his colleagues. He's going to punch his colleagues. He's going to start a brawl with his colleagues that gets him in serious trouble but the sheer glory of a one handed vistory against Lugnut while you were watching is going to put a swagger in his step for weeks.

If someone insults you or, primus forbid, puts you in actual danger, all bets are off that mech is getting Murdered.

He's possessive and Touchy. You're not getting rides, but you are getting picked up more often than you're walking.

He cannot take or give compliments though. It's hilarious.

Random x Reader

Anon I hope you're ready for...everything. Random is, uh, a lot.

One thing nobody seriously seems to realise about Blitzwing is that his intelligence, which most associate with Icy, actually applies to all three personalities. Icy simply applies it in the most recognised ways because hes the only one who cares about their actual JOB as lieutenant.

Random will apply that intelligence to absolutely steamrolling your personal space and boundaries with his shenanigans. You're going to have to get firm about things like clothes (which he likes eating) and privacy (he has absolutely tried to watch you while you shower. Not to be creepy, but becuase TF's have no concept of clothes or nudity and he wanted to keep talking to you.)

The MOST openly affectionate. Will serenade you in the hallways. Will hold you in his hands and dance with you. Will lick you in front of other cons as a show of dominance. Starscream has refeused to touch you since, which was the desied effect.

Absolute cuddle bug with zero filter. Will staright up purr and nuzzle his way right into your heart. Will physically cherish absolutely every inch of you and not shy away from any details.

Has a tendency to get distracted easily by whatever aspect of you has caught his focus this time. You're probably going to have to repeat yourself numerous times as your voice has become his soothing backdrop for his focus to fly away to.

He's a gift giver like Icy, but it's everything he's managed to steal ever. A shiny rock, a nice tree, a car, a moose (Blitzwing wtf), someones ARM-

Will be the first personality to be vulnerable with you. This is a huge milestone. Random's jack O'lantern grin is not a permanent feature, and if he's letting you see that he's sad and tired and lonely then congratulations my friend - you are in, and the tree of them will not be letting you go for as long as they function.

#Thanks so so much for the ask!#I would actually die to date this mech I hope you like these #Thalassa responds #transformers #Blitzwing #Blitzwing x reader #maccadam

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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years ago

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Newsies imagine the reader is an artist and the Newsies find all of their art work of themselves and love the reader's work and what she did for them but having more drawings of Crutchie.

Perfect

Crutchie x reader

Summary: You get something amazing from something as annoying as your privacy violated.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay so, I don’t think there’s any hint to reader’s gender and this has not been proofread so I do sincerely apologise in advance but nevertheless, for my first time writing for Crutchie, I loved it.

GIF isn’t mine

You had made friends with the newsies at a young age. You had worked at a factory at first when you were little and a small boy with a crutch used to wave at you everyday at the end of the day. Sometimes he'd have a friend by his side, counting what they had made that day but that didn't stop his small wave. It was you who initiated any kind of talk, saving up so you didn't feel bad about buying a paper after work one day. Not too long after your first encounter with him did you end up finding him one of your closest friends. Then after some unfortunate incident, the factory closed and you were sent to the streets to find work. Immediately Crutchie offered a helping hand into the business of Newsies.

You knew a few from selling with Crutchie and others in passing but there were a few who you’d yet to see. Meeting them was nerve racking after hearing Crutchie go into unreal details about them being his family. You were a little afraid to admit that your friendship with Crutchie had only worked a kindling for set your crush on him ablaze.

It wasn’t long until you fit right in and eventually, you were in a situation where you were living with them. You’d scored a top bunk over one of the younger newsies but every now and then you’d join Jack and Crutchie on the roof. Jack was your best friend. He loved art too, he was always up for a joke, he was kind and caring and he was the only one to clue in on your crush on Crutchie which lead to various teasing comments and stupid dares to ask him out. Usually your response was between a ‘I’m not eight’ and ‘You’se mental’ to which he’d always agree.

Tonight was one of your nights up on the roof, new sketchbook in your lap as you used Jack’s charcoals he’d leant you while you waited for the two boys. There was a commotion from the bunks but that wasn’t out of the blue so you fixated on the current work you were doing. Was it another piece of Crutchie? Yes. Was it really your fault that he was so interesting to draw? Absolutely not. You were about to start on his hair when the commotion got louder and Jack’s booming voice was trying to quieten them down with some speak on privacy. Curiosity got the better of you and you snuck down to see what ridiculous fight was happening now only for your jaw to drop at what was being passed around.

See, you knew that under one of the loose floorboards by your bed wasn’t the best hiding spot for your three full sketchbooks but there wasn’t many other places and you couldn’t find it in you to look for another one. Now your laziness was backfiring as they were being passed around spoke about whilst Jack stopped his speech on respecting boundaries to instead admire a drawing of himself. Crutchie seemed to be the only one who wouldn’t look as he kept saying you hadn’t said they could do they shouldn’t. Your heart swelled, pathetically, and you shoved that feeling away to instead cough to make your presence known. A silence fell over the boys but Jack was quick to talk, “See, what did I tell you’se that these are private-”

All the boys erupted into shouts over one another before silencing at your voice. “Oh, save it Kelly,” you quipped, making him pause before he shrugged and fixed his hat. He took a step back and all the boys broke out into apologies, Race being the only one quiet which was weird because usually you could hear his voice the clearest. You saw Albert shoving the boy who simply glared at him before turning to you, “Why’s are all of these Crutchie?” The boy in question blushed as a heat burned your cheeks and you dived forward to snatch the books. An ‘oooo’ sounded before Jack was shooing them all away and nodding for you to go to the roof before doing the same with Crutchie. Various shouts of, “Thanks for the portrait’ and ‘You’se really good at drawing’ filled the room just before the cold air hit you and you were climbing up the rusty metal to the roof space.

Crutchie followed right behind and you almost walked straight into him as you paced, rushed apologies leaving both of you. It was quiet for a beat and then you couldn’t take it, “I’m sorry, I know it’s probably really weird that I just have a bunch of drawing of you but I swear, it’s just that you’re… interesting to dra- okay that sounds creepier then it did in my head but I mean-” You shut up when his laugh met your ears and his hand was resting over yours that held onto your sketchbook like a lifeline. You stared his crinkled eyes and blinding smile and if it was possible, you think you may have just fallen in love with the boy.

He couldn’t stop smiling apparently, looking at you suddenly sheepishly as he said, “Can I’se look at them?” You froze, mouth agape as you tried to find some sort of composure, the only thing happening being a small nod. You passed the sketchbooks over, falling to sit next to him when he decided to sit in the poorly made up bed of his. He didn’t skip the few pages in between of the others and instead admired every piece he could. The compliments didn’t stop to the point you thought your heart might burst and that heat that invaded your cheeks actually began to make you sweat. He looked so perfect, he was so perfect.

He finished going through one book as you took a deep breath and before he could open the next one, you jumped in, “Um, I’se actually started this other one. I haven’t finished it yet though and it’s not that great but, um, yeah,” he still had the look in his eyes, the amazement he stared at the drawing with now settled on you with another glint in his eyes. It hit you like a bus, breathing suddenly becoming a luxury. “Can I still see?” Crutchie asked and something about his demeanour reminded you of a small kid finding more presents under the Christmas tree. It made your heart swell again and you quickly scrambled to reach for your newest sketch book just a little bit away. You opened it to the page at the back that you had started on for no particular reason whatsoever, showing him the half finished charcoal piece.

Crutchie grinned impossibly wide, “I didn’t know you’se could do this. They’s amazing,” you wrapped your arms around your knees, bashful smile on your lips as your love struck gaze stayed fixed on him and only him. Fixing your hat, you eyes the way he couldn’t stop admiring it. Clearing your throat, you brought his attention back to you and you quickly avoided his gaze. Settling on picking at the ends of your trousers, you asked the question that had began to eat away at you, “You’se, er, you’se don’t think it’s weird or nothing, right?” You glanced up as he frantically shook his head, sketchbook moving to the floor as he kept that impossibly large grin, “No, no. I’se think that, maybe, it means you sees me the way I sees you,”

“Oh,” the boy you loved just hinted at liking you and you say ‘oh’? Really? Mentally kicking yourself, everything in you froze as he held your hand and you struggled to choke a breath when your eyes met. “Can, um, how,” you couldn’t help but mumble nonsense as you tried to find some logic in the chaos in your head. Your voice was nowhere above a whisper and your breath hitched when you realised you speaking had brought his attention to your lips. Now both of you were awkward messes before he seemed to find a surge of confidence and pressed his lips gently to yours.

God, okay, okay. He was kissing you and you were kissing back, that’s a good start. If you knew kissing him would feel this amazing, you’d have shown him those drawings ages ago. It was soft, sweet. He was gentle and slow and yeah, maybe neither of you knew what you were doing but you were definitely loving every second of it. When he finally pulled away, you felt yourself chasing his lips before he laughed. Your eyes finally fluttered open to see his stupidly cute face still so close.

Yeah, no, this was perfect.

#newsies x reader #newsies imagine #crutchie newsies #crutchie imagine #newsies #musical

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the-badger-mole · 3 years ago

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On the Clearest Night: 1K Followers Special

So, I hit 1K followers! For a while, I really didn't think I'd get to this point, but I did it! Somehow... Do I get a trophy or a cash prize or....? In honor of this illustrious occasion, I've reached out to my 1,000th follower and asked them if they had a prompt they wanted me to and they chose Painted/Blue. Here's the result. Thanks to everyone who followed me because of some random post I made and didn't unfollow me when I didn't live up to your expectations. Thanks to @iromiak for being number 1,000! Couldn't have done it without you! And I promise I will continue providing the nonsense you expect from my blog until I get bored and leave forever.

And now! Tonight's feature presentation:

On the Clearest Night

He couldn't decide if she was truly a spirit or not. Zuko had come at his father's request to Jang Hui to investigate the explosion at the arms factory. When he arrived he was confronted by two different versions of the story. The soldiers protecting the armory gave a report of a dark-clad vigilante leading a highly organized team armed with sophisticated explosives acting during the night. The citizens on the other hand told a tale of a river spirit appearing in the form of a beautiful young woman healing the sick, clearing up the river and ridding them of the factory that had nearly destroyed their way of life for good. One side was near rabid with the desire for retribution, and the other side spoke in hushed awe about their savior.

"That's enough,' the boy's mother took his hand and nearly dragged him away from Zuko. She smiled apologetically. "He insists he saw the Painted Lady, but the truth is none of us got a good look at her face. The veil, you know."

"I did see," the boy grumbled unhappily. "Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn't returned to help us."

"Then I'm glad she was here," Zuko said sincerely.

Still, he had a job to do. His father had entrusted him to find out what had happened to one of the most important armories in the country and to bring the guilty parties to justice. To his relief, Zuko was able to clear the half-starved, ragged villagers of any wrongdoing. He made a note with his secretary to have some sort of aid set up for the village. The soldiers from the armory weren't thrilled about sharing their rations, but it would do until Zuko could get back to Caldera and make more permanent arrangements for relief. He would have to ask his father about assigning a minister to look into how a village like Jang Hui could be allowed to fall so far through the cracks and make sure there were no other such oversights. It was bad enough that he was beginning to hear rumbles of dissent about the draconian conscription laws, the Fire Nation couldn't afford crisis-level poverty, besides.

Zuko stayed in the village another two days, gathering as many clues and leads as he could. There was something strange about the first-hand accounts from the villagers that he couldn't quite place. It was as if they were being careful about saying too much. He heard all about the people who had been brought back from the brink of death by the Painted Lady, and about the stores of food that had been laid at the doorstep of the worst-off families. He'd heard about her ethereal beauty, but they all stopped just short of any truly pertinent details.

"The soldiers said that she was human," a young boy told Zuko. "That she was from outside the Fire Nation, but I saw her! Her eyes were silver and she floated on the river with no raft. "

"I did see," the boy grumbled unhappily. "Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn't returned to help us."

"Then I'm glad she was here," Zuko said sincerely.

The day Zuko was supposed to leave, there was a sudden stir in the village center. A small group had arrived from a neighboring village, having heard about the troubles in Jang Hui. They bore what scant supplies they could spare and interesting news.

"We've been visited by the Painted Lady," a middle-aged woman said as she passed out blankets and farming tools. "She cured a few that was ailin', and then she told us that you lot would need some help to finish getting back on your feet."

"You spoke to her?" Zuko asked, pushing his way forward to the newcomers. "Directly?" The woman and her companions blinked in surprise. Someone quickly let them know who he was, and they all dropped down into deep bows.

"Please, you don't need to do that," Zuko insisted, somewhat impatiently. "I just want to know if you got a good look at her. Is she a spirit or is she human?" The villagers of Jang Hui stilled and seemed to hold their breath. Zuko tried not to notice.

"I can't say any of us got a good look at her, your highness," the woman said hesitantly. "There was a heavy fog, and she was covered from head to toe in a long, flowing robe. All any of us who were there could see was something glowing in her hands when she touched the sick, and the red markings along her arms. Then she was gone as if she'd never been there." Someone behind Zuko let out a breath that sounded like a relieved sigh. His mouth pulled down slightly at the corners. It seemed he had gotten as much information out of Jang Hui as he was likely to get. He asked the newcomers where they'd come from, and he ordered his men to prepare to follow that trail at dawn the next day.

That night, Zuko's men went to bed early in preparation, but Zuko couldn't turn in quite yet. He made his way to the edge of the river. He'd been told that up until a few days before, it had been thick and dark with the sludge from the factory. It was unfishable, undrinkable, and useless for anything except disposing of waste, but it was the lifeline of the village. Tonight the water was still murky, though Zuko could make out the riverbed in the shallow water. In a few days more, it would run clear again. Zuko frowned. Had his father known that this factory had almost killed a village?

A rustling in the bushes behind him startled Zuko. He had spun around into a defensive crouch before he really registered what he'd heard. An elderly man, who Zuko had seen lurking near the edges of his conversations with the villagers, approached. He was frail-looking, all bent and leathery with his skin stretched tightly across knobby, arthritic bones. Zuko didn't think he was a threat, but he didn't let his guard down either.

"Do you need something?" he asked uncertainly.

"I wanted a chance to speak to you," the old man said. "I didn't think I'd get to before you left in the morning, but I think perhaps I'm meant to after all." Zuko stared at him in confusion for a moment.

"What do you need from me?" he asked, not impolitely.

"I just wanted to say that in all the years we'd been begging for help from Caldera, this was the first time we'd felt we'd been heard."

"Oh," Zuko dropped his fists and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I...I just wish we could have done more. When I get home, I'll look into a longer-term solution-"

"I am certain you will," the man cut him off. "And we would be grateful, but that's not what I meant. When the Painted Lady arrived, we were in the middle of dying, your highness. She found several of us breathing our last, and she saved us. Then she got rid of the source of our ills and gave us a second chance to perhaps thrive once again. As I'm sure you can imagine, we're a bit protective of our protector." Zuko's shoulders slumped. He was suddenly exhausted. All he wanted was to go home to his own bed and forget all about Jang Hui. He was certain this old man had much the same wish.

"I have to know who she is," Zuko said, almost apologetically. "If she's a spirit, I have to let the Fire Lord know so we can send the sages to look into this and figure out how to keep her happy. And if she's human...I know she was trying to help, but this," Zuko gestured to the looming husk of the factory. "I can't let her- or them- get away with this. I'll argue for leniency, but this was a crime."

"I understand," the old man said, shaking his head sadly.

"Do you know what she was?" Zuko pressed.

"I'm afraid I have no answer for you." The old man shrugged. "I don't know any human who could heal the dying, though."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days were spent chasing rumors and picking up cold trails. It was just like old times, Zuko thought ruefully. Then he promptly shoved that thought away. It was a coincidence. Nothing more.

The Painted Lady had been spotted only once more since the visitors to Jang Hui told their story. Zuko thought he'd come close to an answer in a bustling town where he'd heard about two prisoners escaping a strangely built cell- wood, of all things in the Fire Nation- but there was even less information to be gathered than in the last two sightings. It was enough, though, to make Zuko suspect that perhaps they weren't chasing another ghost.

In another town, Zuko heard rumors of a spirit that only came out during the full moon and took the unwary in the woods. Zuko thought about investigating, but he soon caught word of another struggling town not too far away. It seemed a likely place for the Painted Lady to appear next. Besides, kidnapping people in the woods was the wrong MO. It was probably animals that snatched up careless wanderers (though perhaps, Zuko thought, it wouldn't be a bad idea to send someone to investigate soon).

The town that Zuko and his men arrived in was in terrible shape. It was in worse shape than he'd left Jang Hui in. Despite being a farming town in a year with a plentiful harvest, the people were starving. Starvation had been compounded with a wasting sickness that had already claimed what was estimated to be about a third of the population. That was the sanitized version that Zuko and his men had been given, but the young prince suspected that there was more to the story and that knowing more would make the situation look bleaker. But as with Jang Hui, the villagers were tight-lipped and unwilling to give anything up. It was frustrating to Zuko. After all, how could he help if he didn't know the whole of the problem? Still, he'd gathered enough to know that the Painted Lady hadn't been through yet, and he suspected it was only a matter of time before she did. It was time to send in someone who might have better luck on reconnaissance.

Zuko had a conversation with the captain of his guard that night. It had been a long journey, he acknowledged. Longer than he anticipated, and he knew that the men were getting anxious. The captain tried to assure Zuko that the men were fine, but Zuko insisted that they needed a break. Just a small one for the evening, and then they could pick up again tomorrow. The men caught a small wooly mountain elk and prepared it for a feast that evening. Someone even brought out a few bottles of strong arrack and passed them around. The feast flared up and fizzled quickly after the first few rounds of drinks, like a firework. Soon the men began to drop off around the camp. Some made it back to their cots and others just lay down where they were and fell into a deep sleep.

Zuko looked over them with a small tinge of guilt as he pulled on the Blue Spirit mask he'd smuggled in his bags. He didn't spike the bottles with anything harmful, but they would have a hard time waking the next morning. Zuko would be back by then.

The men had made impressive work of that evening's feast, but there was still a haunch and several smaller cuts of meat left. These Zuko bundled as best he could and carried it off towards the village. Finding the Painted Lady was his main goal, but he was glad to be able to be of use to his people, too.

The food Zuko deposited at the door of the woman who seemed to be the unofficial mayor of the town to be distributed by her the next day. Once that was done, Zuko found a roof and settled in to wait.

It didn't take long. Zuko had barely settled in his spot when a sudden, heavy bank of fog rolled in. At first, Zuko could see nothing, but he heard someone shuffling along through the mists. His heart caught in his throat when he saw the figure emerging. The light of the half-moon penetrated the fog enough to cast her in a silvery glow. Zuko could see the outline of the flowing robes she wore, and the droplets clinging to her gossamer veil caught the moonlight and made it appear as if she wore diamonds or stars to hide her face. And she was heading right for the house Zuko was on.

She entered quietly, and a moment later, Zuko saw a bluish, silver glow coming through the window. He crept to the edge of the roof and lowered his head and shoulders so he could see. It was just as he'd heard. The glow was coming from the Painted Lady's hands. She had them pressed to the chest of a young boy who was struggling to breathe. Zuko watched in terrified awe as a long, thin string of phlegm was drawn through the boy's mouth and discarded in the hearth of the nearby fireplace. When she was done, the boy was breathing easier already. She pressed her hands to his head next, and the boy sighed with relief before falling into a deeper, more restful sleep.

Her task done, the Painted Lady stood and headed back to the door. Zuko scrambled back onto the roof as quickly and as quietly as he could. He kicked a loose tile, causing it to skitter across the roof, but it feel into some bushes below, to his relief. He made back to his original hiding spot mere moments before the Painted Lady reemerged. He waited to see what she would do next. Move onto the next house, he thought, but she stopped suddenly and turned to the exact spot he'd been hiding.

"I know you're there." Zuko froze at her voice. He knew that voice. Why did he know that voice?

"You may as well come out," she continued. "I mean no one in the town harm, but if you refuse to show yourself, I'll have to assume you mean harm." The air grew colder suddenly, and Zuko saw vicious-looking shards appearing in the fog. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the shadows and stood at his full height. The Painted Lady looked up at him, and in the moonlight, he could see the red patterns painted on her bronze skin and a slight frown on her crimson lips. Mostly, though, his attention was caught by her startling eyes. He could just see them past her veil, glowing silver in the moon's rays.

"I know you," she gasped in surprise. "You're the Blue Spirit."

#atla #zutara #painted blue #1k followers special #1000th follower request #thanks for 1k!#let's do this again for 1500!#😁✌🏾#leave a comment!#like!#reblog!#i live off attention #this wasn't supposed to be this long #but lol! what can ya do?#i hope you enjoyed it!

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years ago

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hi. can i request something angsty i absolutely love your angst works! so being in a long term relationship with mr ran haitani that's kind of already having fallouts. then reader cheated and confesses to ran about it but he still kind of didn't expect reader would do something like that. thank you very much! pls ignore if you want <3

This hurt to write. But it hurt so damn good.

King of Sorrow: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.6k

tw: A N G S T

masterlist

song recommendation:

Things had been going downhill for a while.

Ran noticed the way you stayed out late, the way you no longer cuddled him in bed at night, the way your eyes wandered when you two were at the club...

But he never says anything.

You two had been together since he had become part of Bonten - and that was five years ago. FIve years of bliss, love, and happiness.

But that all started to fall apart last month.

He can't recall what he did - if anything. Ran tried his best to show you that he loved you, even when he was away. But lately, it'd been met with a half-hearted "thanks" or "I love you, too". Ran knew you weren't saying it because it was inherently true. You were saying it because you felt obligated to.

But he didn't feel obligated.

No, he's convinced he loves you, even if you're falling out of love with him. It's a hard thought for him to grasp, but he does somehow - that you might just have fallen out of love with him.

So he ups his gestures of love in an attempt to stave off the routine. This week, he's taken you on a trip to Italy. No meetings, no calls, nothing that has to do with work. It's just you and him on a cruise ship, sailing from port to port.

"This is amazing," he beams, cutting into the steak with gusto. "I've never had steak like this before."

"It's Wagyu," you mention, looking more somber in the dim lighting of the restaurant than when you both entered. Come to think of it, the moment you stepped onto the boat, you seemed downcast, even more so than when you were at home. You couldn't even look Ran in the eye anymore, and even though he'd made love to you the previous night, it seemed like that didn't have any effect on how you felt today. Usually, you'd be excited and full of life, but...

"Babe," Ran whispers, putting his fork down. "What's wrong?" Your bottom lip quivers and Ran stiffens. No, he thinks. Don't cry. But he also wants to get to the bottom of things, so he continues cautiously. "Things have been really strange for some time now, and I brought you here so maybe we could fix whatever's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," you lie, wiping your eyes quickly. "Everything's fine."

"No," Ran tuts. "It's not. My love, you've been distant. I'm worried about us." He reaches across the table and touches your hand, and gesture he hasn't tried in a long time. "I'm worried about you." You snatch your hand away, standing and throwing your napkin over your barely touched food.

"It's fine, Ran," you snap, then walk away from the table quickly, rubbing at your eyes furiously as you leave the ship's dining room. Ran sighs, motioning for the waiter as he cuts his losses with the dinner.

"Just send the bill to the room, please."

Ran finds you in your shared suite, sitting in the chair facing the balcony with your head in your hands. You're sobbing, and for a moment, he replays the interaction between the two of you before approaching, holding your purse in one hand.

"Love," he begins, kneeling beside the chair and placing your purse in the other seat beside him. "I need you to talk to me."

"I just..." you start but break off, tears flowing down your fingers. "It's not your fault." You reveal your reddened face, eyes rimmed with smeared mascara. "I didn't mean to..."

"Whatever it is, it's fine," Ran whispers, taking your wet hands in his. "It'll be okay. Just tell me what's wrong." His heart is aching to know why you're so heartbroken, but you inhale shakily, then exhale before opening your eyes.

"Ran, I want to start off by apologizing." Ran shakes his head, his violet eyes unsure, but you stop him, squeezing his hands once. "Just listen to me all the way through, okay?"

"Done," he affirms, shoulders relaxing now that you're finally telling him what's wrong.

"A month ago... I went to Takada's bachelorette party, right?"

"Mmm-hmm." He remembers that night. You looked so stunning in your tight mini-dress and pinned-up hair. He thought about railing you over the side of the banister before you left and was a little disappointed that you came home around eight in the morning instead of that same night.

"I..." You shakily inhale again, shaking your head rapidly. "I got so drunk. I don't know what was wrong with me, I..." You sniff, then remove your hands from Ran's, wiping at a stray tear. "I ended up sleeping with someone. I don't know who they are, I don't know where they came from. But I just remember waking up in the bed, naked, and seeing him there."

Ran stares at you, face empty, still not fully processing what you've said. He is still for a while as the cogs in his mind turn around and around and around and around and around and then

stop.

His mouth dries up, and his violet eyes look away from you, at the wallpaper, at the mirror, at the corner of the room, at the ceiling.

"I've felt so guilty since then," you mumble. "I couldn't tell you because I felt so ashamed, I--"

Ran stands, letting out a soft "oh", wavering a little on his feet. He blinks a few times, still not looking at you, then cocks his head to the left, like he's hearing something. But he's just processing. His mind flits from one day to the next, trying to pinpoint any signs, any clues... How could he have been so stupid?

No, you couldn't have cheated. It was a mistake. You'd gotten undressed, the man was drunk and also fell asleep in your bed... No, you couldn't do that. Not to him. Not to Ran Haitani.

But your guilt is written all over your face.

"Oh," Ran mutters again, jaw clenching. His breaths come quick like he'd been running for hours, and he can barely think as he sees red cloud his vision. He can't understand what he's doing when he breaks the table in the conjoined living room, or swipes the vases onto the floor, shattering them and depositing the flowers among them. He can't think about anything as you shout for him to stop, trying to reach him past his haze of red, but he's too far gone.

And the thing that frightens you the most is that he isn't yelling or screaming.

He's quiet.

He's not cursing at you, he's just destroying anything that looks whole, tossing it to the ground and rendering it unusable. You slide down against the wall, tears coursing down your cheeks again as he huffs, standing in the middle of the wreckage, gasping for air.

And then, the clearest thought Ran's had in almost an hour comes to him.

"Let me get you your own room."

"Ran," you plead, stumbling over your feet to get to him as he marches over to the phone. "Ran, please."

"Hello? I need a new suite for Mrs. Haitani. Do you have one available?"

"Ran!" you beg, pulling at his sleeve, but he doesn't move from the phone, gripping the receiver as the person on the other line tries to find an open room for you. You try to reach the button that will hang up the call, reaching past Ran's frame in earnest. He's blocking it, but there's just enough room for your pointer finger to tap the button, ending the call.

Ran doesn't even move. The phone is still up to his ear as if the call is still going on, but no voice is on the other line.

Fat tears roll down from his eyes, and he's frozen there, standing with the phone in his hands as if he were paused in time. But he lets the phone slip from his grasp, walking like a zombie over to the chair by the balcony, and sliding into it slowly.

And he doesn't get up, staring out at the sea with an empty, forlorn look.

"Ran," you whisper, crouching next to him. He doesn't answer, tears running freely down his face. "Ran..." Again, there's no answer, so you hang your head next to his leg, touching his thigh with your right hand. He doesn't move, even when you get up to prepare for bed, the door leading to the carnage of his temper still open.

He doesn't move from that chair all night, and you don't sleep, staring at him as his tears dry. You even succumb to sleep for a brief moment, waking to see him still in that same chair, still trying to think.

But eventually, he moves, walking into the bathroom and staying in there for a while. You wait patiently for him, sitting on the edge of the bed as he emerges, wiping his face with a towel before he inhales sharply.

"As soon as they dock this ship at the next port, we're heading home. Couples counseling or a divorce, it's your choice." You look down at your hands, nodding. You understand the need to cut the trip short. It's for the best.

When you arrive back home two days later, Ran immediately grabs a new bag of things, loading it up with clothing and toiletries, choosing to take residence at Rindou's home instead of sleeping in the same bed as you.

And that hurt the worst, his cold violet eyes not even glancing over at you as he left the master bedroom without any words.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tw angst

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fluffyfranny · 2 years ago

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Cookies of Salem AU Pt.1: Townspeople

Sooooo... I've had this AU festering around in my brain for a while, and I've decided to make it for two games (DR and Cookie Run) because the character combinations are nearly endless in my mind! So the plan is this: I'll make the AU for the Cookies first, then I'll make it for the entirety of Danganronpa.

And for each AU I'll divide them into four parts for each set of roles: the Townspeople, the Mafia, the Coven and the Neutral roles.

THEN I may write mini drabbles or an entire consistent storyline based on my casting choices.

But enough of me rambling, LET'S GET CRACKIN'!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cast of Townspeople

Investigator: Walnut Cookie

-As Ms. Junior Detective, Walnut Cookie is determined to follow in her father's footsteps by tracking down clues and tracing them towards her target's true identity. Her magnifying glass is polished every night for the clearest of convictions.

Lookout: Caramel Arrow Cookie

-The First Watcher, despite not possessing a fine piece of equipment like that of Walnut Cookie, instead has eyes as sharp as a hawk's and can see as far and crystal clear as the most pristine eyeglass.

Stealth mode is her specialty, and the bushes are her greatest ally as she braces herself at the side of a potential target's house, hoping to catch criminals red-handed and administer justice.

Psychic: Prophet Cookie

-Armed with his trusty crystal ball and tarot cards, Prophet Cookie is prepared to translate the nightly visions that cloud his mind. On odd-numbered nights, a member of a trio of faces should be considered under suspicion of wrongdoings, while on even nights, one face from a pair he is given can be proven innocent.

However, his techniques aimed at saving the Town come with a cost, bearing the risk of labeling himself as a fraud if his convictions prove false.

Sheriff: Almond Cookie

-As head of M.E.H., this veteran cop has a keen eye for the guilty, for they flee at the sight of his gleaming badge. That, and he has so many years of experience under his belt that he can look into his suspects' eyes and read through their cover-up acts if they seem to be suspicious...

Or sweat at the temples if he suspects that an innocent is being falsely accused...

Either way, if his suspicions prove too inconclusive, he can always rely on his dear little Walnut Cookie to crack the case.

Spy: Ninja Cookie

-As fast as the wind and light on their feet, Ninja Cookie utilizes his mastery of stealth to bug people's homes and keep an eye on who visits potential victims, if any at all.

He can also sniff out the Mafia by hearing in on their conversations, keeping his senses on full alert in case names are dropped and covers are potentially blown...

Tracker: Crunchy Chip Cookie

-Despite not having eyes or a nose as keen as those of his beloved Cream Wolves, he does rely on them to assist him in keeping an eye on potential suspects by sending one of them after a target to follow them throughout the night.

Upon their return, even if they come back empty-pawed with a lack of information, he still appreciates their attempts and rewards them greatly at training the next day... mainly with lots of scratches and phrasings of "who's a good boy/girl?"

Jailor: Clotted Cream Cookie

-One that believes in justice through conviction, the Consul utilizes his Light Cage to keep suspects apprehended as securely as if they boasted Almond Cookie's handcuffs while he digs for the truth, all the while keeping his composure throughout his interrogations like a good, dutiful citizen of the Republic.

But sometimes, certain evildoers tend to break through the bars...

Vampire Hunter: Pastry Cookie

-Trading in her trusty crossbow for a wooden stake and holy water, this member of the St. Pastry Order is shifting from benevolent prayers to malevolent stakeouts for jam-sucking fiends of the night.

For the Order and the good of the Town!

However, a certain evil is afoot once more, and a severe case of deja vu will test this nun's willpower...

Veteran: Tea Knight Cookie

-After the events that left the rest of his fellow Tea Leaf Knights dead, this war hero hides away within the confines of his home, too paranoid to ever bear his weapons out in the open again...

Except under the cover of night, when only trespassers who come through his door wish to taste dragon-blood stained steel...

Vigilante: Madeleine Cookie

-To protect the Town, the Light must protect this most determined of paladins! Upon sniffing out the slightest suspicion from someone, his blade is primed and his battle cry is ready!

But those victory cries will become pained cries if he discovers that the "suspect" is a fellow member of the Town, and there's only one way he would be able to erase the memory of the crime he committed...

Erase himself from memory...

Bodyguard: Milk Cookie

-For peace and justice to remain steadfast, so must this knight of the Milk Tribe. He aims to accomplish this by putting himself on the front lines, protecting an individual from potential attacks with the help of his unmovable will and mighty Divine Milk Shield.

On a night he fears for his own safety, which is once in a blue moon, he will bestow protection upon himself to decrease the risk of himself being added to the body count.

But the risk is never zero...

Doctor: Dr. Bones Cookie

-Emergency, emergency! Wounds are crumbling, but not for long on this doc's watch! Bringing his mobile hospital clinic to the tiny town him and the other Cookies reside in was quite the challenge, but he has successfully rehoused all his medical equipment and has a clean table ready for any kind of wounds his patients may present!

Stab wounds? Easy peasy! Black eyes? No problemo!

Burns?

Werewolf attack?

Now those he might not know how to repair, or have time to...

Crusader: Raspberry Cookie

-Not only is she living up to the name of House Raspberry, but for her Town, as well!

She will protect her dignity and the lives at stake with her trusty blade, defending her target from anybody that may trespass on their doorstep...

...even if they may turn out to be innocent, and unnecessary blood will stain her blade, tarnishing it and her reputation.

Trapper: Espresso Cookie

-A master of many crafts, "Trapper" was practically Espresso's middle name, as his whispers of "escape this!' after setting up his masterpieces practically sealed the deal. His experience with crafting Magic Candies has led to the professor infusing his traps with spells capable of inflicting the maximum amount of pain to any trespasser, whether through shocks, burns, poison or anything in between.

In addition, a gravity-bearing trap will draw a piece of evidence from the trespasser's person, making it clear who visited based off the item. For example, if an empty glass bottle sits near the trap, then he has snagged the Potion Master. If the item is a bloody flower, then a Mafia member visited his target.

However, he can also unintentionally snag innocent Townies, for a bloody knife may be a Doctor's surgical scalpel, or a suspicious piece of technology may belong to the Spy.

Either way, nobody is escaping his contraptions unscathed, for Espresso will be able to tell who visited his target based on the scratches and jam seeping down the victim's leg.

Escort: Kumiho Cookie

-Under the cover of the night and the guise of a regular old Cookie, Kumiho intends on foiling her target's plans through sweet, sweet flirting. After all, nobody can resist her charm for too long!

However, some are immune to the Escort's tactics and don't take them lightly... they take them out by force.

Mayor: Pure Vanilla Cookie

-Hiding his mayoral badge underneath his flowing cream robes, the leader of the Vanilla Kingdom chooses anonymity, for the time being, over increasing the likelihood of him being targeted by the Mafia or the Coven, as well as any other killers that may roam the streets.

But his vote will count down the road. It will have to, if the Town wants to return to some normalcy.

So as he draws his cloak aside from near his heart, the badge gleaming, he is prepared to take up another leadership position as he has before.

And face the risks... as he has before.

Medium: Black Garlic Cookie

-Instead of a crystal ball, this ghost professor prefers to commune with Cookies from the great beyond with the help of her trusty live-streaming camera! Once she pinpoints her spooky friend's location with her lens, she keeps an eye on them through it or stares into the space she last saw them with her camera and babbles away, begging for the spirits to rat out the remaining baddies!

However, this latter method makes her appear as if she's talking to nothing in front of her, potentially putting her duties, and her life, in jeopardy...

Retributionist: Blackberry Cookie

-Together with Black Garlic Cookie, this dutiful maiden has the potential to give one of the unnecessarily deceased another chance at saving the Town, for she cannot resurrect any Mafians, Coven members or neutral parties.

The professor locates a worthy Townie spirit, and the maiden summons the Ghost Butler and her tidiness-addicted spirits to cleanse their spirit and raise them from their grave to send them back on their merry way!

Right after the ghosts clean them up again, because who likes the smell of decay and mud lodged in your dough?

Transporter: Croissant Cookie

-With her trusty Timecraft, this member of the TBD is determined to foil the plans of the damned by swapping two people's places, providing the possibility of the Mafia or Coven striking one of their own when an innocent should have been. She can also swap herself with another Cookie, poofing her away from potentially being crumbled.

However, a gig could go wrong and Croissant may swap an innocent into being slaughtered instead of a baddie. In that case, she just rewinds time and rethinks her strategy!

She doesn't want to repeat carnage when it doesn't have to...

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