#the love is stored on the beetle man he's so cool!!

[darabeatha]

/ I'm going to say that a peak fgo character to fall for; A.vicebron !!

[saytrrose]

Can we see More about your racing AU please?

Looks so amazing and i love It so much

I do suppose I could share the character design line up!

I really just need to finish designing all the go karts, (atleast most are done!) and then I can make proper cards for them and really get into the written details.

To be honest it’s a little hard to just ramble about info and details without specific questions to go off of, so I’ll try my best hhh

for starters, the tent? Not a tent!

It’s actually a stadium, the amazing digital race!

And rooms? Sort of tweaked, they are more like each character owns a personal garage, a large open space where they store their vehicles and then have a loft above that showcases their cozy safe havens. Bed, entertainment, basically a small room in a much larger one.

I haven’t revealed Ragatha, Zooble or Gangles karts yet but I’ll go ahead and just talk about all of them!

Caine:

Caine has a motorcycle, specifically one inspired off of the motorcycle I’m saving up for this summer, a Kawasaki Eliminator. It’s a cruiser, I’m thinking he has a 600cc model but considering Bubble is his right hand man and operates as the races pit crew- he’s definitely tinkered with Caines bike, making adjustments and improving the engine. God only knows what the little psycho did, but it’s a damn good bike that’s not supposed to rev as loud as it does.

Pomni:

Her kart is inspired off a Volkswagen Beetle, seemed very VERY Pomni to me. Her car mimics her outfit design a lot, I might do some color changes to be honest but it will be super minimal, it’ll be final when the cards are done! She definitely stops at the pit the most often despite her placement in a race, are my tires okay?? Do I need my oil?? I know you just filled it but it went down- is anything damaged?? Sweetie you did one lap..

Jax:

Jesus Christ he has a giant supercharger on the hood of his car, and he is absolutely one of those annoying mfs that reva their engine OBNOXIOUSLY loud all the time like he’s super cool. If you’re wondering who most of the skid marks on the track are from, that’s also Jax. Hes the best as drifting, and he loves to show that off. His car isn’t based too much on an actual vehicle?? I stared at Mario karts and pieced it together, but also gave it a very sports car look, the wing on the back fr fr I think Jax would dig that.

Kinger:

OHHSOSK I was so creative with his little wagon,,, it’s castle shaped!! And the best part? Operates like a rocket. In the back past the battlement (the crown looking thing you see atop castle pillars) ARE GIANT exhaust pipes and yes, they do spit fire !! Operates like a rocket. It’s very cool! (Also he has a great muffler because unlike Jax he’s considerate of others hearing 💔) Oh also, he has one of those silly horns, I forgot how to describe it but you can just look at how I drew it on his kart and you’ll know heheh!

Zooble:

Our second motorcyclist, owns a trike! If you don’t know what that is, picture a bike with training wheels but super badass. 3 wheels! It’s inspired off the Harley Davidson freewheeler, I like that design a lot but it’s def not actually a Harley because istg when you buy those bikes your just paying for the fancy name brand- expect it to be in the shop all the time, smh not good- BUT ANYWAY!! The looks are inspired off it though and I can’t wait for this one because it’s just as crazy kooky as Zoobles design is.

Gangle:

Her kart is based on my favorite car, classic style but not too cool because you can bet she has anime stickers on the back and a decal that says “please let me merge before I start crying.” It’s similar to a karmann ghia convertible, 1963. Cherry red (so so pretty) She always has the top down, unless competing because damn you gotta go fast. That car itself is really slow, top speed normally is 68mph, however people have modified them enough to get up to 120mph. Thats still pretty slow compared to others, but her kart only reflects the appearance of the ghia! It’s much faster and I assume Bubble works on all their vehicles if asked to.

Lastly, Ragatha:

Our 3rd motorcyclist. 4 Karts, 3 cyclists. Her bike is a futuristic style, if you want a good idea then look up “icare bike”! Not so much a straight forward posture, she leans over ofc, you’ll likely get the idea when you see her bike. I’ll be honest, I haven’t gotten too into her design yet because I haven’t started drawing but!! Dark blue leds,, everywhere yes yes so cool ❤️

Sorry that’s so much 😭 but yeah! Just need to finish 3 kart designs for you guys and I can make official ref cards 👀

[roastbeasts]

do you have an all time favorite animal/animals?

they say never ask a man his salary a woman her weight or a biology major what their favorite animal is. anyways i have several so here's a list

(putting it under the cut bc there are bugs. and lots of text)

fav arthropod: trilobite beetle

two things - 1. these guys aren't even remotely related to trilobites & 2. this is a picture of a female trilobite beetle. the males look like standard beetles, not whatever this shit is. there isn't a lot of information ab the trilobite beetle's role in the greater ecosystem but there IS a lot of info ab their sex lives and how funny it is that the females are like 8x bigger than their male partners. here's an article for ur perusal if ur interested in bug sex

fav herp: chinese giant salamander

i actually saw this guy at the zoo today! if u want to see a picture of his ass i will put it in the replies. anyone who knows me knows that i'm obsessed w these guys, i just think it's so cool how they're one of those animals that has remained virtually unchanged over millions of years of evolution. u can probably guess what they eat by how they look. rumor has it that they cry like babies also but i can't find any footage that seems legit. i'm still looking though

fav misc invert: anna's magnificent sea slug / chromodoris annae

this is an animal that tumblr knows ab & loves so i don't have much to say ab it. they do eat sea sponges and store their toxins in their bodies, which is cool. a lot of ppl have no concept of how big sea slugs are - this guy is around 5cm if memory serves. ok next animal

fav mammal: binturong

binturongs!!! i love binturongs. i showed them to my bf awhile ago and he loves them too. they're viverrids which means that they're related to critters like civets and other small cat-adjacent creatures, and they engage in grooming & rocking back and forth as self-soothing activities. that is all that i know about them off the top of my head. goodbye

[lotsobagels]

Hey you! Do you like manga? Yes? Awesome.

How about cottagecore lesbians? Whimsical living in the forest vibes? Anthropomorphic talking animals? Peaceful, sweet, and gentle slice of life stories? Cottagecore lesbians?????

Let me introduce you to Hakumei and Mikochi by Takuto Kashiki.

It's a slice of life manga with each chapter being a new little story about a piece of the two titular character's lives. They're often incredibly mundane things like: going to the store for a good bottle of booze, getting a haircut, or having a picnic. The stakes are often very low, but it makes for a very relaxing read, and all of the stories are so sweet.

In one Hakumei and Mikochi are helping their friend who just moved in, a tiny beetle, pick out furniture. In another the pair go bar hopping looking for the best izakaya foods.

Each one sparks so much joy.

Oh did I mention the cottagecore lesbians yet? Well, Hakumei and Mikochi are practically married.

They live together in this tree. Hakumei (the red haired one) is very often mistaken as a man. There's even a whole side story where her boss that she works for doing construction suggests she brings her torn uniform home for her wife to repair and nobody blinks until he realizes that Hakumei is actually a woman (but she's still bringing stuff home to her wife). Mikochi is the more femme one who is an excellent seamstress and cook and is equally cool.

Is it explicityly said that they're in a relationship? Sadly no, because this is Japan and it isn't labeled as a yuri manga but let's just say the subtext is very heavily there...

The art for the manga is also GORGEOUS

The pages are lushly details and beautifully balanced so that they feel rich and not cluttered. There's also a heavy emphasis on food with no detail spared which makes for Gibli level mouth watering dishes.

The human characters in the story are canonically very small so it makes for very cute interactions with the animal characters like tanuki or cats who are very big. But this scale is actively acknowledged through the world building where things like rain are a lot scarier when you're the size of a mouse.

Anywho! I have nothing but praise to sing for Hakumei and Mikochi and it's a manga I think deserves a lot more recognition (I think there's like 3 of us out there reading it). It's a peaceful slice of life queer coded story with nary a fanservice to be seen and it's made by a male mangaka. (Or as far as we know a male mangaka.)

I don't have any doubts that it can be found online to read for free and I encourage you to give it a try! But it's also actively being published and is pretty readily accesible in the manga section of major book stores. Only one volume gets released a year, we love a mangaka given a resonable publishing schedule, and it's always a gem.

So please give Hakumei and Mikochi a try! I promise it doesn't disappoint! 🥺

[charcadett]

Soooo. This is incredibly niche. But I’m back on my Transformers bullshit so why not…. Mash my two hyperfixations together like a caveman trying to start a fire.

Pokemon Scavio Characters Transformers Alt Modes

Nemona - A motorcycle fits her well I think. She’d have a side car for her friends because they mean a lot to her. Only Penny is small enough to fit.

Penny - If we are going only Cybertronian animals. Turbofox because they look the closest to an Eevee. But honestly, I think she should just straight up have an Eevee alt mode.

Arven - Just. An oven. A big, giant oven. Bake a cake in him. I dare you.

Hassel - A dragon. One, I think it’d be funny as hell. Two, Predaking from Prime is hot and so is Hassel. And also: It’d still fit well with his from an ancient dragon trainer family who ran away to do music backstory. Except he’s the dragon.

Brassius - Something small and not built for fighting I think… Maybe a flashdrive?? To store images of his art and art history. I think it’d fit with how he was sickly and sort of weak when he first met Hassel.

Katy - A little volkswagen beetle. I was gonna just do an insect alt mode. Like. A katydid. But I think the pun with a little bug car is infinitely funnier.

Kofu - A boat. That’s really it, bro is a boat.

Grusha - A snowmobile, one of those really fast ones but an accident has rendered his tcog beyond repair and he can no longer transform.

Ryme - A speaker, kind of self explanatory considering her music career.

Iono - A camcorder! She makes guests on her stream hold her whenever anything good is happening. Also won’t stop recording people in real time.

Tulip & Miriam - They’re both jets. It’s said in game by one of the NPCs that Miriam used to be a model before she became the Academy’s nurse and I like to imagine her and Tulip as former coworker/friends. So they’re both jets and former seekers LOL.

Larry - I have no proof that transformers can have office supplies as an alt mode but this man screams stapler.

Rika - A dirt bike! I was gonna go motorcycle because sleek and she would love to do tricks, but a dirt bike would be good for her Ground-typing speciality. She’s always covered in mud.

Poppy - A little armored car! It goes with her Steel-typing speciality.

Geeta - The champion gets to be a triple changer. Jet and car combo. She has to go fast to get to all the places she’s needed at.

Clavell & Jacq - Both are microscopes, Clavell’s is a stronger one though I think.

Salvatore - A sports car, sleek and cool for a sleek and cool guy. He’s not big for joy rides though.

Tyme - An SUV. Very strong, sturdy, and reliable!

Saguaro - A tank! I think it fits well with his students thinking he’s a big tough guy, when he’s really a total sweetheart.

Raifort - A drone perhaps… Maybe I just have Earthspark on the brain but it’s small and it’d make it easy for her to access hard to get to historical spots. Also Raifort seems like someone who eavesdrops LOL.

Turo - Something stupid and machine-y. Like a centrifuge.

Sada - Straight up a dinosaur… Thinking. Pterosaur?? Because Roaring Moon kind of looks like one. I know those aren’t dinos technically but whatevs.

Ortega - A car, but a pink one so he’s REALLY conspicuous. He’s the mechanic who built the star mobiles so I think it works.

Eri - A tank! Big and strong, though she prefers hand to hand combat and training rather than relying on her alt mode.

Mela - A flamethrower. Someone has to hold her, usually Eri.

Giacomo - A soundboard. His favorite sounds are “Bruh” and a fart noise. Another team star member who needs to be held.

Atticus - An arachnid, specifically a black widow. Not only does it help him make Team Star costumes with webbing, but also ties in with his Poison-type focus.

[neon-u-dumb-shxtty-child]

Did I write a whole random interaction between my oc Daisey and @clownsuu ‘s oc Robbie? Yes, yes I did. And it was fun

Midnight me just has a lot of motivation to write and I had to do something so have the sillies

I’ll probably draw something for this, but only time will tell :,)

…

Today was such a lovely day, wasn’t it? The birds were chirping, the sun was shining brightly, and there was a light breeze all over. Today was simply perfect!

Daisey Dollops, Welcome Home’s resident gardener, was currently walking over to their favorite store, Howdy’s bodega. Daisey loved going to the bodega, especially on a morning like this!

Right now, they needed some more gardening supplies, specifically a new trowel and some more fertilizer for their garden.

As they walked to the bodega, they began to hear small rustling sounds, along with some soft giggles. At first they think nothing of it, it could easily just be another neighbor. But the closer they got to the bodega, the more they could hear that rustling noise.

Eventually, Daisey spotted a particular trash bin wiggling around. Was it a raccoon? Or another small animal? They were determined to figure it out!

Daisey slowly but surely walked up to the trash bin, nervously grabbing the lid. Even if they wanted to know what was making that noise, they didn’t want to be too reckless, hehe…

They carefully removed the lid off of the bin, only to see someone cramped inside of the bin. The person looked up, noticing Daisey removing the lid.

“Oh, hello!” The beetle looking man smiled and looked up at Daisey, as if he was just saying hello to a neighbor from his front lawn.

Daisey yelped, jumping up in surprise. They ended up tripping and falling on the ground. They stood up, anxiously looking down inside the trash bin again.

“Oh… hi! Sorry for that… you just startled me a little, that’s all!”

Daisey chuckled softly, trying to make this less awkward. The beetle man quickly stood up, stepping out of the trash bin and dusting himself off a bit.

“Well that’s no problem at all, neighbor! Are you alright? That was a nasty fall, after all!”

Daisey quickly looked up at him and dusted themself off, chuckling awkwardly. That was probably not the best first introduction, time to backpedal a bit.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. You just startled me a little, that’s all.”

They looked back down at the trash bin and tilted their head. That’s not a place where a neighbor should be! It was quite cute if Daisey could ignore all the germs that were in that trash bin. It made the shudder at the thought.

“Say, what are you doing in that trash bin, neighbor? You could get sick from all those gross germs in there!”

The beetle man laughed, placing his four hands on his hips.

“That’s my home neighbor! I live in a little trash can!”

Daisey looked surprised, but didn’t question it. They had no room to judge, especially when it came to where they lived. Their room can get quite messy too, so it wasn’t that far off…

“Really? That’s cool, I guess…” Daisey smiled softly, trying to think of what to say now. Then it hit them, they haven’t introduced themself yet!

“Oh! Now where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself yet! My name is Daisey! Daisey Dollops! I’m the town gardener, it’s swell to meet you. What’s your name?”

Daisey held their hand out to shake, looking up at the beetle man. He was much taller than them, as Daisey was only around 4’8 feet tall.

The beetle man shook their hand very excitedly, almost shaking Daisey’s entire body by accident.

“My name is Robbie Robs! It’s so exciting to meet you!”

———

(I don’t know how to continue this and I’m not sure if I wrote Robbie in character so I’m just ending it off here! :,o>)

[folkloreguk]

🍒Cherry Ice Cream🍒

A/N: Happy July! I planned this almost a year ago and finally got around to writing it...I hope you like it! As always, I appreaciate feedback a lot! Hope everyone has a lovely day <3

pairing: optional bias (male) x reader (gn)

words: ~ 3.7 k

genre: fluff, comedy, lifeguard!bias, reader is the most awkward and chaotic person ever (are we at the public pool or the circus?? seriously I’m so second hand embarrassed for her lmao), bias is the hottest man in existence, the universe has something against the reader apparently (rip)

PART 2 (nsfw, both parts can be read independently)

You approached the front entrance of the public swimming pool. Everything was still going by plan. Ever since the weather had gotten warmer, you’d had swimming on your mind. And every single person in your life had been made aware of it. Despite the friendly asking and the occasional begging, you still hadn’t found anyone to accompany you to the public swimming pool. You had heard all the reasons: Work, already planned vacations, a sick pet, a hatred of water, a hatred of people, you name it. After all the searching you had come to the conclusion that you were tired of waiting. Nothing could possibly rob you of your excitement about swimming pools. You’d go alone and have a wonderful time. It would be a relaxing day with loads of time just for you. So you had told yourself. But let’s face it, nothing could have prepared you for the utter chaos you were about to walk into.

It began before you had even set both feet into the facility. Your steps were light, and you beamed, ready to enter after you had paid. The strap of your sports bag had caught in the turnstile in the entrance area. Stubborn as you were, you yanked on it, instead of turning around and manually freeing the fabric from the steel contraption. You had put your entire weight on the line, tugging and pulling, when the strap finally came loose from the turnstile. As expected from such antics, you tripped and struggled in your flip-flops, blundering into the compound like a baby giraffe walking for the first time. By the time you tried to compose yourself to look cool and relaxed after such a mistake, you noticed him.

He, who looked like a Greek god blessing you with a visit on earth. He was all tan skin, red life-guard swim trunks, perfectly sculped shoulders, pushed back hair, a smile that put the sun to shame and sunglasses sitting on top of his head. Instantly you thanked yourself for not seriously injuring yourself. The young godman crossed the lawn, presumably to take his seat by the pool, watching out for the visitors. Only he made it look like he was strutting on a runway at Paris fashion week. All you could do was pray that he hadn’t seen you entering his workplace headfirst like some impatient six-year-old.

As people passed you, you realized you were standing in the same spot where you had almost fallen a minute ago. Manifesting that this was just the silly beginning to a perfect day, you paraded into the shaded grassy area to find a spot to set up your things. Countless groups of friends, families, and lone visitors like yourself had already settled down, but you managed to find a fine spot. It was the superb balance between sunny and shady and not too far from the swimming pools and water slides. In seconds you had shed off your clothes to reveal your swimsuit underneath. Although you could barely keep yourself waiting, you decided it was best to stay there a short while before you threw yourself into the waves. Just until the sunscreen had absorbed into your skin. Meanwhile, you would unpack the catchy book you had recently begun to read.

Now and then you raised your head and peeked at the cute lifeguard. You seriously had no intentions of coming across like a creep, but you couldn’t stop yourself. The way he patrolled the side of the large pool had more coolness than the prettiest shot of a hot movie star in a film. You allowed yourself a few seconds, then you’d go back to your novel. The sounds of summer floated through the air – children laughing, water splashing, birds chirping above you – and the scent of the sunscreen catapulted you straight on cloud 9. It felt like your own small piece of paradise. Little did you know, the universe had so much more in store for you.

You hadn’t been buried in your book for even 10 minutes when a group of kids ran by. They were passing a water ball from one to the other and giggling uncontrollably. You saw it coming in your peripheral vision but had no time to react. As they had reached your level, one of them punched the ball especially hard. And instead of catching it, the dark blue ball bounced off one child’s hands and straight into the side of your face. It knocked your sunglasses off the bridge of your nose, but more importantly gave you the fright of your life. You dropped your book while the children’s mother scolded them from the side. After the initial surprise you couldn’t accept their apologies quickly enough. Anything if it could spare you from even more attention from random guests around you. Impulsively, your eyes searched for the cute lifeguard. But he was looking into the opposite direction. At least fate had saved you from embarrassing you in front of him. The last thing you wanted was to look like more of a clown than you had when entering the facility earlier. But against your expectations, the train of unfortunate events was only beginning.

Surely things would be more peaceful in the water, you had thought. When you finally entered the cool pool, it felt like heaven on earth. Fearing a case of recurrence, you avoided the shallower areas, where the children crowded and went straight for the deeper waters. Finally experiencing some form of relaxation, you swam and dived a few laps around the pool. Now and then you caught a glimpse of the lifeguard on the far end of the pool. Just to make sure he was still there. Just to make sure he’s still as handsome as when you first spotted him. And you weren’t disappointed. Gesturing kindly, he helped an elderly woman find directions to the restaurant on the far end of the site. From up closer, his smile and his jaw were even prettier – even though it had seemed impossible for him to become even more perfect.

After a while, your limbs became tired and you retracted into less busy waters, close to the exit and entrance area of the swimming pool. As you paddled your way through bodies, a bug startled you. It had by all appearances chosen you as its victim, as it took direct flight into your face. Even when you swat it away and turned around to change directions, it kept chasing you and only you. Like some crazy, obsessed stalker, it followed you to the edge of the pool. Eventually, you became tired of running and turned to it. If some random flying beetle wanted to fight you, so be it. To the untrained eye, you might have appeared like a lunatic, fanning the air, and squinting against the bright sunlight. But it was war, and you would square up against the most annoying of bugs. After a while, you realized that you were waving off the air – no more bug in sight. Only then you noted the little girl laughing in your direction from the poolside. You were way too mortified to turn into his direction at first, but when you found the lifeguard, he was conversing with one of his co-workers. Once again, you were safe.

Your next approach at a good time was the colorful waterslide close by. Certainly, these heights would not include micro-aggressive bugs. Instead, they included something far more unsettling. Considering there were toddlers going down the waterslide, you deemed it safe and fun. Your mind changed in the first sharp turn, when you tumbled over and hit your elbow from the sudden change of direction. Maybe you should have just stayed in the ring with the bug instead of choosing this more than violent escape. But it was too late. Once on the slide, you had to make it through to the finish line – more or less in one piece. Your grand finale composed of a semi-somersault off the edge of the waterslide into the pool. Although it wasn’t intentional, you still hoped it looked somewhat graceful to the audience at the bottom. Hint: No, it didn’t. You looked like a baby monkey that had been sent down a self-constructed-waterslide in someone’s backyard. It was a disaster.

Feeling over-heated and exhausted from the sun and your embarrassing antics, you found a drinking fountain by the showers to refresh yourself. Patiently, you waited in the short line until it was your turn. As fate wanted it, the next messy incident wasn’t long in the coming. In fact, it only took four sips of water before you accidentally inhaled some of it. You stepped back, choking, coughing, and gasping for air all at once. A helpful woman showed mercy with you and your awkward behavior and softly pat your back. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked. Unable to speak just yet, you smiled and nodded gratefully. Great. Maybe you should add “clown” onto your previous professions in your CT. By now, half the visitors probably knew who you were – a walking safety hazard to yourself.

After retreating to your bath towel set-up in the shade for a while, you had almost found new hope that the universe wasn’t against you that day. You managed to lie there, for a whole hour, without any issues. But then, slowly, another idea crept up on you. After all, what was summer without ice cream? By chance, you happened to know the little ice cream truck next to the yellow waterslide sold your favorite brand of ice lolly. So off you went, money in hands and wild determination in your head. The visual of the handsome lifeguard lingered in your mind even after you had passed the chair he was sitting on by the poolside. You acquired your ice lolly successfully and ripped the wrapper right away. It tasted like summer in food format, and you reveled in the cold treat for a while, as you strolled back in the direction of your bath towel.

Fully aware that you would have to walk by the insanely cute lifeguard again, you tried your best to look cool, next to the large pool. In your imagination, you were glowing in the sun, hair slightly flowing in the warm breeze and steps bouncing happily. You were the personification of summer bloom and radiating everything good about the season. For a moment, you closed your eyes and actually indulged in the warmth on your face. That was when the next mishap struck.

You didn’t even understand what was happening at first. Someone accidentally bumped into you – or did you bump into them? Upon the impact, you opened your eyes. Your ice-cream had vanished from your hands. Turns out, you had dropped it and it had landed only two feet from you. Out of balance, you stumbled ahead even after the impact. And of course, only a second later your foot stepped directly onto the ice lolly. Inevitably, you skidded and struggled to stay on your feet by means of flinging and waving your arms in the air. As if you were some stranger, trying to attract the attention of an aircraft whilst stranded on a desert island. One thing was for sure, you had everyone’s observance tied to you. With an involuntary but comedic performance of theatrical extent, you fell and hit the water surface.

The cool hit you so suddenly, you had swallowed a gulp of water before your instincts had time to set in. Quickly, your limbs began paddling to get you back to the surface. At that instant, a pair of arms suddenly linked under your armpits and swooped you up from underwater. Your brain processed what was going on. Without a doubt, someone had jumped after you and was pulling you out of the water. Stubbornly, you tried to avoid the idea of the cute lifeguard helping you out. Christ, that would really be the peak of all your embarrassing moments. No, it was probably the person you had run into, or someone who had already been in the water.

When you were placed by the poolside and blinked against the blending sun, your worst concerns came to pass. There he was, so close you could have touched his face. His worried expression changed when you opened your eyes, and he smiled, relieved. “Is everything alright?” he asked. You’d think this would make you into the most shamefaced person on the planet. And yet, all you could wonder was how two people’s genes could combine so flawlessly, so beautifully, to create such a man. When he got no answer from your moonstruck figure, he furrowed his eyebrows in alarm.

“Oh my- my god,” you stammered. “Yes! I’m fine, I’m sorry!”

You weren’t sure why you were apologizing. For worrying him? For inconveniencing him? For causing another scene? Either way, he grinned, and you felt your cheeks heat up terribly. You had to get away from there before something cringy came out of your mouth. Although you weren’t sure there was any way you could have made this more awkward than it already was.

“Make sure you have no injuries, okay?” he asked, helping you up. “If you need any medical assistance, just let me or one of the other lifeguards know.”

“Um…okay,” you said. Wow. That was no way to flirt with the most attractive person you had ever met. With all this drama you had gone through on that day, the universe could have at least blessed you with a romantic, your-life-savior-realizes-he-just-met-the-love-of-his-life moment. But no. The movies really were one massive hoax.

“It’s probably best you take a little break from the surprise, before you go back into the water,” he advised you. “And don’t hesitate to ask, if you need any more help.”

If only he knew how many times you had already tried to take a break from the surprise after everything on that day. You stood on your feet safely but felt like a cat that had fallen into the bathtub. At last, you managed a smile in the lifeguard’s direction. “Thank you.”

Funny enough, the stares people gave you bothered you only slightly as you walked back to your spot under the trees. Maybe you had used up all your embarrassment for the day. Nothing could intimidate you anymore. That meant, whatever happened from now on, it couldn’t get worse. Somehow after the pinnacle of chaos, you finally felt some inner tranquility. You went back to your novel, now and then keeping an eye out for potential water balls coming your way. But everything was calm. As time went on, you lost yourself completely in the story line and forgot about everything around you. Maybe this was all meant to happen. Perhaps it was a message, that you should have waited for your family to have a free day, or for your friend to come back from vacation. Would the same things have happened? There was no way to tell. Just as you reached a specifically exciting scene in the novel, a figure suddenly appeared in front of you. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Hey,” the handsome lifeguard stood there, smiling kindly. Wide-eyed, you straightened up and greeted him shyly.

“I couldn’t help but notice how happy you were about that ice cream earlier,” he said. “But then you…lost your ice cream.”

“What an interesting way of saying I stomped on it and made an absolute fool of myself,” you smirked. He chuckled.

“However you want to put it, I thought maybe you could use some cheering up,” he went on. “So I got you a new one.”

He pulled two ice-lollies from behind his back. “One for you, one for me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. “You bought me this? I don’t want to sound rude… but aren’t you supposed to be looking out for the next victim to repeat my foolery?”

“I’m on my break,” he laughed. His eyes crinkled up cutely when he smiled, and it only made your stomach flutter more. “If you want me to leave, I will. I’m not trying to be weird or obtruding. Just making sure you’re okay, because I noticed you’re here alone.”

“Oh. No! Feel free to stay here for as long as you want!” you said, and now maybe you were the one sounding obtrusive. You scooted over and let him take a spot on your bathmat. You thanked him for the ice cream and gleefully unwrapped it. “My friends and family weren’t available today. But I really, really wanted to come here today. Maybe not my brightest idea.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen way worse plunges than yours. You were lucky, really. You got away with a small shock and nothing more. It was pretty impressive, actually.”

“I’m glad I have entertaining qualities, at least.”

“I’m just messing with you,” he laughed. “I’m glad you’re fine. This place gets a little wild during the afternoon, especially on weekends.”

“You don’t say,” you chuckled.

“I recommend coming here in the mornings or late evenings, if you want a little more peace and quiet.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably consider it. Do you work here full time?” you asked.

“No, this is just a summer job,” he said. “It’s great. I get to swim for free and be outside a lot. Not to mention this is one of my favorite places in town.”

“You love swimming too?” you asked and regretted it right away. A lifeguard who hated swimming made no sense, after all. But he didn’t seem to think your words were silly.

“I do! I come here a lot to swim, when it’s not as busy and I don’t have to work,” he said. The thought of seeing him again when you came back in a few days – which you already knew you would – made you feel some sort of way. You had been embarrassed, but his sweet words had appeased you. You could definitely get used to seeing his face all summer long. The two of you talked for some time, while you both finished your ice cream. You learned his name, which was just as beautiful as its owner, and that he thought you had actually looked pretty cute (!) when you fell into the pool. You swore he wasn’t even real. Perhaps he was merely a hallucination, a product of your imagination, to cheer yourself up after your messy day. Either way, your head was up in the clouds as long as he was sitting there, next to you, with his perfect shoulders and charming voice. Soon, he had to excuse himself, though. His break was over and as he had put it, he needed to prevent any more ice cream-murders from happening.

After your conversation, the universe had apparently shifted in your favor. You spent the entire rest of your day without any more misfortunes. Like you had talked to a lucky charm who had done miracles for you, you had a fantastic time. You were even brave enough to face a few more go’s down the ever-so-threatening waterslide. As it got later, more people went home, and just as he had predicted, things calmed down. And you were convinced you would stay until the bitter end. Only when a female voice announced over the speakers that the swimming pool would close in 30 minutes, you slowly started to pack up your things.

As you approached the exit, you scanned the area for your favorite lifeguard. But he was nowhere to be found. You assumed he had already finished his shift and gone home. But as luck would have it, as you neared the bicycle stands to retrieve your bike, you saw him already there. His eyes beamed when he noticed you.

“Wow, you held out a long time,” he said. “Had fun?”

“I did,” you said. You could only be grateful your ice-cream massacre was the sole of your antics he had witnessed that afternoon. Who knew how he would look at you if he had experienced your full chaotic capacity? “Thank you again, for making sure I was fine. And for the ice cream.”

“It was no big deal,” he said. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“To buy random girls ice cream?” you teased.

“No, only the special ones get the ice cream.”

“Define special.”

“To be honest? I was genuinely concerned you would feel down. I’ve seen you almost trip over when you first came in, you got hit in the face by a ball, I’ve witnessed your little quarrel with that bug and your somersault from the waterslide looked pretty rough. After all that you choked on water and then ended up falling into the pool and losing your ice cream. I supposed you could need some serious cheering up.”

Oh my god. If only you could have opened a portal straight to hell, you would have taken the chance on the spot. All this time he had been watching you? It couldn’t get more mortifying than this.

“Sorry, I sound like some creepy stalker,” he said. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just you-“

“I looked like a clown in a neon suit?”

“You’re really pretty,” he said. Your cheeks warmed up and you could have yelled out loud.

“But you have to admit, at least the clown part is true.”

“Maybe,” he joked. “Don’t be embarrassed. I thought you were – are – adorable.”

“Thank you,” you managed to say. What the hell were you doing? The most handsome guy was complimenting you. You had to take your chance. “Maybe sometime I could buy you some ice cream too? If you feel like it-“

“I’d love that,” he smiled. It was only the beginning of summer, but it was a glorious one. You already knew it could only get better. Instead of cursing the universe, you had to say your thank you’s now. Without your string of bad luck, things would have never led this way. Perhaps fortune was on your side, after all.

[gideongrace]

7. "I just don't. Want to! Why is that so hard to understand?" + 40. "You might as well just walk around with a sign around your neck saying 'perpetual asshole' on it." 💜💜💜💜

Today is Steve's first day back at work since the accident and it's also Billy's day off so he's had nothing to do but sit and worry and think everything to death since Steve left this morning. 

He's been texting back and forth with Steve since then, trying to keep it light, keep it easy all while also texting Max and snapping at every single thing she says. Because no amount of time nor effort nor therapy could ever truly make him not the kind of asshole who handles stress real poorly. But. At least he isn't snapping at Steve. At least there's that.

//

Today is Steve's first day back at work and it's… good. It's great. It's… fine. Really. 

Okay, he's miserable. His feet hurt after only having been on them for three hours because after having been reduced to basically lying on his ass on the couch for months, his stamina is garbage and his arm is sore and his everything else aches seemingly just because the rest of his body parts didn't want to miss out on the party his feet and his arm are apparently having and…

It sucks. 

The only thing keeping him going is texting Billy, even if Billy is pretending to be cool about everything rather than be honest and admit how stressed out he is about this. Steve expects to head to Billy's apartment at the end of the day and find that he's punched a hole into the wall. He's got 'nearest hardware stores' pulled up as a google search tab in the browser on his phone, just in case.

"Oh no, by all means, go ahead, laugh at my misery."

Steve's head snaps up as Dustin comes stomping into the kitchen followed closely by Robin and rather than pay attention to what Dustin just said, Robin is on Steve in an instant, dragging the tall, ugly stool over from the far side of the kitchen for Steve to sit on because she can tell just by looking at him, can tell just from the way he'd been leaning against the wall that he's exhausted just by standing. 

He sits down in the proffered chair without complaint and Dustin continues on with his rant like he'd never been interrupted in the first place. "Like. I just don't. Want to! Why is that so hard to understand?"

Steve looks at Dustin, then at Robin, who shrugs uselessly, before looking back to Dustin. "I take it your date didn't go very well?" 

Dustin huffs out a breath in the most dramatic, most Dustin way possible. "No, it did not."

Robin giggles and shoves her hand in front of her face before muttering, almost unintelligibly, "Tell him what happened." 

Dustin's face crumples up so hard it begins to resemble a crushed soda can more than it does a face, but he says, "He showed me a naked picture of himself in the middle of the date as a way to, I think, proposition me for sex." 

Steve feels his eyes try to separate themselves from his skull. He has no idea what to say to that so he just winds up gaping at Dustin blankly and fighting his eyeballs and their unrelenting urge to flee.

"Oh, he was totally trying to fuck you," Robin says. "He wanted him some curly haired nerd boy real bad." She giggles uproariously.

Dustin makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a squeak. "And, as I have said a million times before, I. Do. Not. Want. That." 

With a grunt of his own, though its one borne of exhaustion and not defeat, Steve gets to his feet and goes to pat Dustin reaffirmingly on the shoulder. "I know, man," he says, because he does.

Before meeting Billy, his dating life had been the exact same way. A complete and unmitigated disaster.

//

Max gets home from class sometime after one, spends ten minutes listening to Billy groan softly to himself and throw the same ball against the wall again and again and again before finally deciding she's had enough and dragging him out to Navy Pier. It's tacky and cliche and touristy… and also the only place in the entirety of basically landlocked Illinois that even remotely reminds either of them of California. And it's not that it looks the same. Or that it feels the same. But that it's a pier with a ferris wheel and that's about as close as either of them is going to get around here.

So they go. And sometimes they go a lot��considering as they both quite frequently miss California but also love Chicago and the people they've grown to know and love here.

It usually cheers one or both of them up when they're bummed out or angry or sad or whatever and today Max drags Billy, same as always, thinking it'll work its usual magic, same as always. 

Only it doesn't.

They wander around the tacky little gift shops and nothing. 

She buys him an ice cream and nothing.

She offers to ride on the ferris wheel with him and nothing. 

The only thing that gets him to smile even a little is a bakery with some plain little cupcakes out on display that he immediately takes pictures of and then starts texting, she thinks, Steve. 

And that's when she gets the idea.

//

Dustin sighs. "Thank you, Steven. You on the other hand"—he turns to glare at Robin—"You might as well just walk around with a sign around your neck saying 'perpetual asshole' on it." 

Robin huffs, clearly unbothered by Dustin's accusation. "You know I support your right to not fuck whoever you please. I just think your reactions are funny." 

Steve's phone goes off and he struggles not to check it. 

"And a guy showing you naked pictures of himself in the middle of a date is hilarious," Robin says, grin nearly splitting her face in two.

Dustin scowls and Steve's phone goes off again and he loses the battle not to check it.

He has two texts from Billy. The first is a picture of some cupcakes with pastel blue icing. The second says, "Yours are better," and Steve can't help but smile.

When he looks up Dustin is still scowling only now it's being directed at him. 

"What?" Steve asks, fully not getting it.

Dustin grumbles something Steve doesn't quite catch, throws his hands up in the air full drama queen style and stomps back out to the front room.

"What?" Steve says again, this time to Robin. 

Robin's still smiling but the meaning behind it changes a little. Now it's less like she's having a good time and more like she's about to explain something to him. (And she just loves explaining things to him.) "He's just mad you have someone while all he can find are losers," she says.

"Oh." 

Robin shrugs like, "What can you do?" and she says, "Yeah." 

//

"I got an idea," Max says. 

Billy looks up, not exactly curious, but not… not curious, either. 

"Come on," she says, holding a hand out to him. He takes it, but he looks suspicious.

She doesn't tell him where they're going, just drags him to her car and makes him get in.

//

They arrive at the bakery and Billy sighs partly in annoyance with Max for coming up with the idea and making it some big secret, partly at himself for not getting it sooner than four blocks ago and partly in relief because annoyed as he might be at Max, he needs to be here and he's glad she's dragged him.

He walks in and the second he does, Dustin grumbles at him, "Of course you're here. Because you're perfect!" And it sounds like an insult, it has the tone of one, but Billy doesn't remotely get why or what for.

"Why—" Billy starts but Max's burst of laughter cuts him off.

Dustin makes a very loud noise and points to the kitchen. "Your boyfriend's in the back," he says, sour as anything.

Max laughs again and Billy just shrugs and heads for the back. He claps Dustin on the shoulder as he passes by and manages to keep his laughter to himself, but none of this impresses Dustin. 

The kitchen is worse (read: weirder) than the front room had been because the second Billy steps through this door Robin shouts, "Billy! Yes! Please take your idiot boyfriend home!" 

Steve glowers at her and slowly—much too slowly to mean anything other than he needs to be taken home right now—gets up off his ugly, little stool and comes to stand by Billy. "I'm fine," he growls.

This time Billy speaks before Robin can get to it. "Yeah... considering how long it took you to get up off your stool and walk over to me I'd say you're not." 

Robin nods at him and he nods back and Steve grunts, "What? Are you two conspiring against me now?" He looks to Robin. "Did you text him and ask him to come get me?" 

Billy huffs. "No. Max brought me. I was being miserable and she dragged me to the Pier and when that didn't work she dragged me here." He puts a heavy hand on Steve's good side and Steve melts under the touch almost completely.

Billy waits for Steve to say something, or for Robin to, but when neither of them does, he leans in and kisses Steve, gentle and quick. 

"Let's go home, yeah? This was good enough for a first day." 

Fortunately, this is all the convincing Steve seems to need and he lets Billy lead him out of the bakery and to Max's crusty, old orange Beetle. 

Max is incorrigible the entire drive back. She doesn't say anything in terms of words, but the smug smirk plastered all over her face says everything.

//

They go to Billy's without even discussing it.

Steve's not brave enough to admit it out loud yet, but he's started thinking of this place as 'home' as much as he hopes Billy thinks it is. And maybe he does. After all, Billy did say, "Let's go home?" didn't he? Not "Let's go to my place" or "Let's go, we'll pick where later" or even just "Let's go". He said, very specifically, "Let's go home." So maybe he meant it.

Or maybe it was just a casual slip of the tongue and Steve is overthinking things.

There isn't time to talk about it, though, even if Steve had wanted to, because Billy starts directing him towards the bedroom the second Max opens the front door and Steve is asleep the second he lies down on the bed and his head hits the pillow. 

[teenyfish]

Marine Biology Story of the Day #13: The Collection

Hey everybody, long time no see—we’ve been dealing with hurricanes and vacations and I’ve been extremely worn down from work so I have not posted anything in the last two weeks.

But, since it’s early spooky season and I’ve finally had a chance to sit down, we are going to do a special post today and go over my collection.

My collection of “dead things”, as my husband likes to describe it.

I like to describe it as my natural history collection. It’s a collection I’ve been curating since I got go college, and I have either collected and cleaned them myself, or received them as gifts from others who share my strange hobby.  I have not personally killed any of these animals, however I’m sure some were road kill or were killed by barotrauma (if they were fish).  Also, these are not all from dead animals, I have a large collection of molts and shells as well.  For me, these are found objects, and I am giving them life again in my house.  If you are uncomfortable with the idea of animal bone collection and processing, I suggest you stop here.

If you have a morbid curiosity like I do, welcome.

Lets start with the bones.  On the first row we have what I think is a squirrel skull that I found on a beach (I’m not 100% sure because I don’t have any teeth from it) and a cormorant skull I found completely bleached and cleaned on a dock.  On the second row we have a pair of deer antlers I spent $2 on at an antique fair, we have an otter that I cleaned for my university that I was allowed to keep, we have rocky the raccoon, also from my university, a cat skull I found on a washed up beach (there were no tags attached, no tissue left, it could have been a pet or a stray, but considering we were in the middle of nowhere, there was no way to tell), and a Atlantic sharpnose shark jaw I cleaned while on a NOAA trip.  The back row we have a blacktip reef shark jaw from the same trip, and a red drum skull collected from a beach.  

Now, rocky is one of my favorites—we have a long relationship.  When I was in college, I took a mammalogy class and one of our assignments was to go find a dead animal and bring it in, dissect it, and clean it.  Like for a grade.  Our professor had tenure and was pretty eccentric, so he got away with it much to the chagrin of the president.  I found rocky on the side of a highway, while I was driving home to my parents’ house for fall break, and he looked pretty freshly dead, so I thought that would be the best way to go.  It didn’t stop him from stinking up my car though, and my mom was not pleased that I stuffed him in the basement freezer.  He made it back to school in a Styrofoam cooler, and I got an A on that assignment, and then we put all of our skulls in the “beetle tank” so that they could finish cleaning the skulls for us.  I forgot about it.  Fast forward to two years later, I was working for the graduate department while getting my graduate degree, and we were asked to clean out the “bone room” and process the skulls, and I found him, a tag with my name on it attached.  He came home to live me ever since.

Next we have the molts, all of which, with the exception of the sea urchin, all came from live animals that continued on living after they had shed their shells. On the bottom left we have my horseshoe crab molts, the larger one was collected on a fisheries survey I was on, the little one I found at a hotel beach in Florida.  Just above the horseshoe crabs, we have an urchin that I found in Maine—this one was likely smashed against the rocks by a seagull, because when an urchin dies, it usually doesn’t leave behind it’s spines. Next to it is the large, American Lobster, which came from the lobster at the aquarium I used to work at!! And then, in the bottom right is a spiny lobster molt.  Spiny lobsters come from the south eastern united states, but our aquarium collected a spiny lobster in North Carolina.  She was one of my favorite animals I worked with in the aquarium.

Then we have the full bodied organisms that were preserved fully.  We have European hornets pinned in the bottom block, which are from a small project I worked on as an undergrad.  These are invasive to the states.  The large blue jar contains a baby sandbar shark. My friend (who is also a biology nerd) found this one for me at a thrift store, so WHO KNOWS how it got there originally—but I gave her a new home none the less.  The last three small jars are fish and invertebrates that were collected on my trip studying marine plastics in the Pacific.  In one is a Velula velula, or a by-the-wind sailor, which is a small siphonophore (similar to a jelly fish, or like a small man-o-war) that “sails” on the surface of the water with it’s little biological sail!  The next one is a myctophid, which I’ve covered in previous posts, but it’s a small, very numerous deep sea fish with bioluminescent photophores on it’s belly.  The last is a dragonfish or a viperfish, which is another deep see fish similar to an angler fish, but it’s bioluminescent lure is on it’s chin.  

I’ve been putting this collection together for almost 10 years now, and they all have their little spots on my shelves at my home.  I just find these pieces of biology so beautiful, and I want to give these animals a second life.  I’m not just into dead animals, I have a 55 gallon saltwater tank and a sweet baby puppy as well, but I just love natural specimens--it is just so cool to be able to reach up on your book shelf and be able to study anatomy from the real thing. 

Now, there are a myriad of methods required for preserving biological samples, many of which you can do at home with your own materials.  Cleaning a skull successfully also depends on the condition that the remains are found in.  I rarely do a skull that has a lot of tissue still on it, it’s a lot of work. I do stress though, unless you want to get into some really nasty stuff, it is not for the faint of heart (or people who are easily nauseated).  If you want any information on how to clean skulls, both from mammals and from fish, please feel free to contact me in the notes or in the asks.

That being said, as a reminder, there are some legal issues regarding many species.  Marine Mammals and endangered species are a no go, even if you find the animal already dead.  Make sure to be aware of that when you go out in the field looking for bones.  It is also is typically illegal to collect things from state and national parks in the U.S., and I don’t have all the rules for other countries, so just educate yourself before you head out.

As always, if you have any questions or comments PLEASE do not be afraid to ask!  

[seelaa26]

1. Next Stop, Vegas Please

“Gonna sell my car and go to Vegas, ‘cause somebody told me that’s where dreams would be”

My eyes were confused when I opened them due to the sun setting on my window plane. I lost track of time after so many hours flying but I knew we were arriving to Vegas. From the air, the city was unmistakable; you could distinguish  The Strip, it’s almost a 7 km stretch, known by its concentration of resort hotels and casinos. Honestly, that was the reason why I chose this city to do my internship, besides the fact that the Crime Lab was the best forensic scientific laboratory in the whole country, Sin City had everything; everything and anything you want to do, you can do in Las Vegas.

The airplane landed a while after and when I set foot on the ground, I couldn’t help but smile even though I was terrified. Leaving my country to go to live to another one all by myself. ¿Was it one hell of a step? Yes, but a necessary one. I wanted to push myself because I needed proof of my inner power; if I could do this, there was nothing I couldn’t do. I worked and studied hard for four years, graduated with honors and got the scholarship. The scholarship covers part of my staying in the city during the nine months; pays half my rent and the car rental. The rest of my payroll was for me. Obviously, I wasn’t going to earn the same money as my coworkers, I had a scholarship contract but it was enough to live comfortably.

My college made the car rental for me, a red Opel Astra with manual transmission and Diesel fuel. I only knew how to drive with manual transmission, so I figured that’s why they rented that car. I adjusted the seating position, started the car and typed the address of the apartment. Dream Apartments was a complex with a clubhouse and a gym, besides the apartment of course. It took me 20 minutes but I got there with success. I parked the car in front of the complex, went to reception and after the registration, they gave me the key to my new home. I followed a tile path and saw a wooden door with a door sign; 898 SF, my apartment. I opened the door, climbed the stairs carrying my suitcase and as soon as I was upstairs, I was impressed by the elegance. The apartment walls were white, wooden floor and everything else was black; doors, frames, curtains, paintings.. I loved it. After the excitement, I realized that I didn’t sleep in the plane but I needed to start getting used to the night shift so I had to stay awake at least until 8 am, since the shift was from 11 pm to 7 am. So, ¿where shall I start? Let’s walk around the neighborhood.

***

When I asked at reception where Gil Grissom’s office was I couldn’t believe it. I did not know what I expected, but his office wasn’t it. There was a metal desk in the middle of the room, which was normal but the rest of the office was full of shelves with glass jars that contained all kind of things you can imagine; a small pig fetus, spiders, frogs, snakes.. all of them dead, obviously but still, creepy.

If that wasn’t enough, he also had specimens of butterflies and bugs framed on the wall. When I was a child, I had a collection with various specimens of scorpions, spiders and beetles conserved in glass, but that was just for fun.

-¡Hi! –a voice spoke behind me, which made me jump from the scare, but he smiled afterwards- Sorry. Welcome to Forensics. Gil Grissom, I’m your supervisor on “Graveyard”.

-Laura Serrano –I introduced myself while shaking hands- ¿”Graveyard”?

-That’s how we call the night shift.

-¿Why? –I asked curiously.

-Because of the same reason you chose this shift –I wondered how did he know that, but he answered before I could even ask- ¿Do you remember what you wrote on the application?

-Actually, I do –I nodded- I wrote that I wanted to work the night shift because of the number of crimes that occur at this time. People are drawn by the allure of the darkness, and so am I.

-That quote is the reason why I accepted your internship –he confessed- You know Laura, this job requires someone who is not afraid to explore the darkest corners. CSI’s see everything and deal with the most twisted things you can imagine. It takes a strong mind to handle it, and I believe you have one.

-I agree and that’s why I can’t wait to be on the field.

-We’ll begin our shift when the team arrives, so while we are waiting.. ¿would you mind taking off your jacket and rolling up your sleeve? I need a pint of your blood. It’s mandatory for all new hires.

A few minutes later, we left the office and headed to the locker room, where the CSI’s store their personal belongings, so I could leave my bag. As we were approaching, two male voices could be heard louder. From the way Grissom smiled, he recognized them. Two good looking guys were talking while putting on their shoes leaning on the bench. One of them was an African American with brown hair and green eyes and quite tall. The other was American with dark hair and brown eyes and a little bit shorter, although I have to admit that I fell for his smile. When he smiled, laugh lines appeared around his cheeks and eyes making him look cuter.

-C’mon, give me a winner for tomorrow.

-Green Bay, minus seven and a half over Niners –answered the African American- Always go with the better quarterback.

-Warrick, Nick –Grissom called, making them look at him and me- I want to introduce you to Laura, she’s the girl who comes to do the internship.

-Nick Stokes –the cute one introduced himself.

-Warrick Brown –he shook my hand after Nick did- You’re from Spain, right?

-Yes, Barcelona –I nodded.

-Man, how I wish to be there.. –Nick mumbled- Great gastronomy, cool weather and views to the Mediterranean.

-¿You’ve been there? –I asked.

-Not yet, but I’m looking for a place for my next vacation –he answered- Now that I’m CSI Level 3 I can afford to travel further than Texas.

A brunette woman entered the locker room in a hurry and greeted everyone without noticing me. I guessed she was another member of the night shift. She was tall and skinny.

-Hey Sara, do you remember that the new girl started working today? –Grissom asked, but she didn’t even look.

-Yeah, ¿why? –she answered and looked for a moment, then she realized- Oh sorry, I’m Sara Sidle, nice to meet you.

-Don’t worry –I smiled- Nice to meet everyone.

-Not everyone.. –Grissom looked around- ¿Does anyone know where’s Catherine?

-She had to pick Lindsey up from her ex’s house, but she’s on her way –Warrick answered- It’s Lindsey’s birthday today.

-Wait for her outside, you’re working together and take Laura with you. 401A at Fremont Street –Grissom commanded as he gave me my CSI credential- Nick, Sara, you’re with me.

-¿What’s a 401A? –I asked Warrick while we were leaving the locker room.

-Hit and run.

I put the credential around my neck and followed him to the exit of the building. When we arrived outside, I saw a skinny, blonde woman approaching us with a weary look on his face.

-Hey guys.. –she said- You must be Laura, the new girl.

-That’s right –I smiled to make her feel comfortable- You must be Catherine.

-Nice to meet you, Laura. Sorry for being late –she looked at Warrick- ¿Are we working together?

-Yeah, hit and run on Fremont –he showed the keys that belonged to one of the cars the CSI’s use to do their job- I’m driving.

***

When we arrived at the crime scene it was already cordoned off. Warrick parked a couple of meters away from the police tape and then we got out of the car. The first thing I saw was the victim; a little girl. I didn’t expect that since it was night and kids don’t go alone on the street. Besides, it was a little girl. ¿Who is capable of leaving her there without calling the police? Cowards.

-¿You okay? –I heard a male voice asking that, and then I realized I stopped walking the moment I saw the girl.

-Yeah, yeah.. It’s just that.. –I tried to find the words to say ignoring that they were both looking at me.

-It’s hard –Catherine finished- I wish I could say it gets easier, but I’m not a liar. The only thing you can do is find whoever did this and get justice.

-Then I’m lucky.. Because that’s exactly our job -I looked at them and sighed- ¿Hoy many hit and runs have you had this year?

-Too many –Warrick replied as he bent down to look at the ground- One thing I can’t stand is a punk coward.

-My daughter wants one of these scooters –Catherine indicated with the flashlight- She says that she’s the only kid in the world who doesn’t have one.

My gaze went back to the little girl’s body but it was something I couldn’t control. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but her. She had a scared look on her face. My heart shrunk from the sadness of her accident. She was so young and full of life and it only took a couple of seconds to take that away.

-¿Do you want me to tell Grissom to put you in another case? -No –I answered- ¿Why?

-¿You feeling alright Warrick? –Catherine asked in a worried tone- ¿It’s that thing with Holly Gribbs, isn’t it?

-I’m just looking out for my partners, you know.. –Warrick replied with a frown- It made me think who I am to you.

-Hey relax –she smiled at him and then looked at me- I’m sure Laura can handle this one.

-I can –I nodded- I’m okay, but thank you for the offer.  

-So, Laura the first thing we do is take a close look at the crime scene and then we take pictures of everything that could be evidence–Catherine explained- In this case, for example, the scooter, the victim’s shoe, the tire marks.. Then we try to recreate what happened with the evidence we’ve got so far. Warrick, ¿you wanna call it?

-Vehicle’s coming down from Rochester, victim was on her scooter heading east, car breaks here, impact here and the vic was thrown.. ¿What? ¿20 meters? –he explained while indicating everything with his fingers.

-And all we’ve got is some paint that’s going to match up to about 20 million other vehicles.. –Catherine sighed- Bastard.

***

I saw them collect the evidence from the crime scene and the next step was get it back to the lab while the coroner performed the victim’s autopsy. Luckily, she was the only dead body that night so it wouldn’t take long. Warrick took the evidence to the rightful departments.

-¿Have you had the chance to walk around the Lab?

-Actually, no.

-I’ll show you around while we wait for the autopsy then –Catherine said and started walking- First we have the DNA Lab, territory owned by Greg Sanders, lab tech specialized in DNA and also in listening commonly rock artists while running lab machines. You’ll meet him, you’ll like him.

-Rock is my favorite genre so I already like him.

-Next to DNA we have Ballistics and in front Audio/Video –we continued walking- We have Trace and Fingerprints over here and down the hall to the right we have the Evidence Garage next to the Evidence Vault and to the left the Locker room, Grissom’s office, the Break Room and the Layout Room.

-¿Layout Room?

-We use that room to review evidence and look for new evidence, compare notes, display the photos from the current case and use the table to draw out rough sketches on maps –she answered with a good explanation- ¿Any more questions? -I have one but it’s not about the Lab.. –she looked at me waiting for me to ask- ¿Who’s Holly Gribbs?

-She was a rookie who started working with us two weeks ago. Holly and Warrick were working together on a case but he left and when Holly was alone collecting evidence from the crime scene, the suspect came back and shot her –Catherine explained it regretfully- She died on the operating table.

-Warrick feels guilty., -I concluded- That’s why he asked me if I wanted to work another case, to make sure I’m okay.

After I finished my sentence, Catherine’s phone rang. It was time for us to head to the morgue, which was downstairs. Before entering the morgue itself, we stopped on the hall to put on the sterile lab coat.

-¿Have you ever seen a dead body?

-Yeah, I took human anatomy classes –I nodded- I wanted to be ready.

-Good –she smiled proudly- Usually, the night shift coroner is Dr. Albert Robbins, but today is his day off so you are going to meet Dr. Jenna Williams.

We entered the morgue and approached the central table while making introductions.  

-This is your hit and run victim –the coroner uncovered the girl and looked at me- Bad thing about this job is you stop asking yourself why. The cause of death was the hit by the car, but I’ve found a bruise on her leg.

-Oh my god.. plate numbers, from the license plate when impacted her skin.

-Looks like a 4.. –I looked at the bruise trying to decipher the license plate- ¿And a J?

-Yeah –Catherine agreed- We have to call DMV.

-¿DMV? –I asked.

-Department of Motor Vehicles, we’ll get them to cross check this partial plate in a 5 mile radius.

***

Actually, waiting for an answer from DMV didn’t take as long as I expected. Within the hour we already appeared at the door of the car owner’s house. This was my first time face to face with a suspect and as my first night was full of unexpected things, an older man opened the door.

-¿Hello? –Catherine said with a smile- ¿Mr. Charles Moore? We are with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. We’d like to talk to you about your car.

-We believe it may have been involved in a traffic collision earlier this evening.

-I told the police when they called me.. my car was stolen.

-That’s why we have a search warrant, sir –Catherine gave him the paper- So that we can look in your garage.

When he opened the garage door with that face I already knew we were going to find his car in there and in what condition. From the sad attitude he had, he knew what happened. The front of the car was busted and the license plate hung from its place. We looked at each other, and then we looked at him. We were waiting for an explanation.

-It.. it was an accident.. I saw the girl and I tried to break but I accelerated by mistake. I got confused.. I shouldn’t have left. I was wrong. ¿Is she okay?

-She died at the scene –Catherine said without being affected by the man’s repentance.

-You are going to be charged with manslaughter, Mr. Moore –Warrick added- Felony and run. You have a lawyer?

He didn’t answer, but he looked like he was sad and sorry to hear what happened. Obviously, killing the girl wasn’t his intention, but he had to face it. After finding the car, we had to make sure it was the correct car and we needed evidence so we called Traffic to have the car confiscated and brought in. While we waited, we went to the break room to eat and drink something.

-¿Is it me or did he give it up so easy? –Catherine asked us as she was taking out a cake from the fridge.

-Old guy was scared –Warrick answered with a soda on his hand- ¿What do you think, Laura?

-I also think that he was scared, I mean he almost cried when he heard the girl died but I feel like there’s something more.

-¡You have to see the birthday present I got for your daughter! –Grissom entered the break room while carrying a bag- I had one of this Chem Labs when I was six, I almost blew up the whole house.  

-¿What’s the rule.. how long do I have to be here before kicking in for gifts? –I asked with confidence.

-When your spirit moves you –Catherine answered with a smile- But don’t worry because Lindsey doesn’t want a party.

-¿What kind of kid doesn’t want a party? –Sara asked.

-My kid.

-Hey Catherine.. ¿at what time is your little girl coming by? –Nick entered the room with a gift- I got her a Chemset.

Grissom and Nick exchanged surprised looks. They had bought the same gift.

-Keep it –Sara intervened- You might learn something.

-Stop flirting with me –Nick ignored her- Cath, really, ¿when’s the party?

-¿What do I have to do? –Catherine got up from the chair a little bit upset- ¡There is no party! ¡My daughter doesn’t want a party! ¿Is everybody clear on that?

No one was going to answer after that. Crystal clear.

***

-¿How tall do you think Mr. Moore is? –Warrick asked us leaning on the car.

-Six feet, I’d say –Catherine answered after we exchanged a look.

-Old people must love hugging the steering wheel ‘cause this sit is pushed all the way forward –Warrick opened the door and got into the car. He didn’t quite fit- I’m six feet and this mirror isn’t helping me at all.

-¿Can you start the car? –I asked.

-¿Why?

-If you haven’t noticed I’m 5 feet and when I drive I have to push the sit all the way forward.

-You think that it wasn’t Mr. Moore who was driving but someone shorter.

As soon as he started the car, the radio turned on and a rap song started playing. Warrick whistled impressed by the song and started moving his head to the beat of the song. In my case, I knew the song and started rapping it.

-So they can hear everything that you say when you ain’t home. I guess Michael Jackson was right, “You are not alone”. Rock your hardhat black..

-¿You listen to Mos Def? -Warrick asked impressed.

-I thought you said Rock is your favorite genre –Catherine intervened.

-¡And it is! But I listen to everything and when it comes to rap Mos Def, 2Pac, Nas, The Notorious B.I.G, Eminem, Blackstreet.. are some of my favorites.

-¡I like your style! –Warrick smiled at me.

-Mr. Moore was not the last person to drive this car –Catherine was the only one who wasn’t absorbed by the song- ¿Turn the music off?

Now it was time to find the evidence that would sustain our theory. Since it was my first day, I limited myself to observe how they did the search and collection of evidence. The steering wheel cover was leather but it had small breathable circles and there was something stuck in one of them. Catherine took it with the tweezers and showed it to us.

-¿Can you tell what that is?

-¿Is it me or that is a piece of tooth? –I questioned.

***

After collecting the evidence and come to a conclusion, came the part of the confrontation with the suspect. I wanted to see how my colleagues faced the situation in the interrogation room. I had no experience, so I couldn’t enter just like that. Instead, I watched it all from the observation mirror.

-¿Does anybody else drive your car, Mr. Moore? –Warrick started.

-I was driving yesterday.

-Sir, that doesn’t answer our question.

Suddenly, the door opened and a boy about 19 years old entered the room. It was the suspect’s grandson. The boy seemed lost, but the grandfather more.

-¿What is he doing here? –Mr. Moore asked.

-Your grandson is an approved driver on your insurance –Catherine explained- He had him pulled out of school

-So James, ¿you like Mos Def?

He sat down without saying a word.

-¿Did you hit that girl with your grandfather’s car?

-Pops, let me explain to them –the boy said addressing his grandfather- They should hear what happened.

-No, they are going to from me –he nervously clasped his hands together and began to explain- When I hit that girl, James switched seats and took over the wheel, drive me home. He was worried about me, not the girl. I’m not saying good judgment was used, but that’s what happened.

-James, ¿do you want to add anything to that? –Warrick asked, but since the boy didn’t say anything, he continued- Sir, ¿can we look at your teeth?

Mr. Moore took out his dentures and put them on the table.

-James, we found a tooth chip embedded in the steering wheel of your grandfather’s car –Catherine explained again- It doesn’t appear to be of your grandfather’s teeth. ¿Do you have a chipped tooth?

-Pops, I’m sorry but I got to –he was going to tell the truth.

-He is a good boy.. it was an accident. I make him call, let me know where he is. He drove straight home and wanted me to go to the police station with him.

-I didn’t know that little girl was dead. I swear.

-I wouldn’t let him turn himself in, that was my decision –he appealed to our emotions for his grandson- Boy’s going places, college.. he’s got a real future.

-I’m very sorry, Mr. Moore –Catherine mumbled with a sad tone- James, I’m afraid you are gonna have to be taken into custody.

-Miss, please.. –he begged- I’m willing to serve his time.

-I know you are Mr. Moore but we can’t let you do that.

Two police officers entered the room and handcuffed the boy. Taking him by the arms, they left the room and went to reception, where he was going to say goodbye to his grandfather. When Warrick and Catherine left the interrogation room, I joined them. There was a feeling of sadness between us.

-Hey, ¿why don’t you go home? We can handle this –Warrick said to Catherine- Your daughter gets out of school in a half hour on her birthday.

-I owe you –she smiled at him, and then look at me- See you tonight, guys.

Warrick and I exchanged glances and approached them.

-Don’t worry pops, I’ll be okay.

-My grandson going to jail is never okay. You survive in there, ¿you hear me?

-You too –James nodded- Don’t be going downhill.

They hugged each other for the last time with tears in their eyes and honestly, they were not the only ones who had them.

-James, the first days are going to be the toughest –Warrick took his hand and wrote something on it- Here’s my cell number. If you are in any problems, call me. I’ll be right there. Keep your head up.

James was taken away and his grandfather left too. We both stood there, watching them go. Watching how they were forced to separate.

-That has been very good of you –I said touched by his act of kindness.

-They remind me of me and my grandmother –Warrick confessed- ¿How do you feel after the first case? This has been a pretty tough emotional one. You have seen two very hard emotions; tragedy and sacrifice.

-Thanks to them I have realized something –I nodded- You’ve got so much power in this job, which you use to get the bad guys but once in a while, I’d like to use it to help the good guys.

-¿And what.. forget about little Renda Harris?

-No.. –I looked at him- What I’m saying is that putting James away isn’t gonna bring her back and Mr. Moore was willing to do the time. I mean, the victim’s family gets closure..

-I know.. but we got to follow the evidence, even if we don’t like where it takes us –Warrick turned to face me- Laura, it’s the job. If you start making deals with the devil, you don’t get to walk away. ¿You understand what I’m saying?

-Yeah..

-Now it’s time to go home –he said watching reception’s clock- You did very well on your first day. Get some rest, ¿okay?

I went back to the locker room to collect my things and when I left the building, I got in the car and just sat there. I had waited so long for my first case and to feel that high when I’d solve it, but I didn’t feel that way. Not at all. Instead, I felt guilty and this had only just begun.

[kirishwima]

Hello~! Purely from my own odd experience since I still barely know anything about cars, but could I request headcannons for RFA (or just Zen and V if ya want) reacting to a female MC who works at an auto parts store and has to do a lot of heavy lifting, interact with a lot of men, mostly hicks, and works with guys older than her? Shes typically soft and shy around them but developed a bit sassier and tomboyish attitude for interacting with customers. Sorry this is so specific 😅 thank you!

ohh wow! I...actually now honestly Nothing About Cars, so I’m not too sure how to work with this T-T I’ll just write Zen and V for now, but if you like it, then I can continue with the rest of the characters too!!

ZEN:

* He was honestly excited when, after mentioning in the RFA chatroom how he loves riding his motorcycle, MC got just as excited, asking him about the motorcycle’s model, what modifications he’d done to it, and other little details, some of which even Zen himself didn’t have an answer for!

* When they explained they work in an auto parts store, he was shocked. “Wait, wait, which one?!” he asked, and at the sound of the store’s name, he wrecked his mind for a memory he knew was there.

* “Wait! I know you!” he screamed. He’d called MC immediatly after remembering why their name sounded so familiar, his excitedness seeping over through the receiver, “You’re that cool lady that works at the store! I’d go there often to get stuff for my bike and I remember seeing you a lot! Hell, I even tried flirtiing with you once and you rejected me so fast I could hear my jaw hit the floor!” he was only...half-joking about that last bit.

* Truth be told, of course he remembered her-she was the reason he kept going back to that store, and something in him was both excited and confused at the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw her take a box that must’ve weighed more than she did and lift it up like it was no big deal, even stopping to chat with some of her co-workers whilst holding it.

* Seeing the MC on the messenger though-this had developed into something bigger than a crush, there was no denying it. She was so soft-spoken and polite, yet whenver Seven made a jab at her, she’d return it tenfold, like a little chihuahua bearing it’s fangs to anyone that pisses it off. He was so attracted to her it was insane (and high-key proud of her for putting Seven in his place lmao).

* When she came to his house he was a stuttering blushing mess-and so was she! She was still the same cheerful sassy girl he’d met at the shop, but she was also this quiet soft girl he wanted to protect-how dare she do this to his heart, Zen just couldn’t handle it!!

* When they eventually got together (after a lot of matchmaking from the RFA because Zen was being really shy for once in his life lol), he’d go to the shop often to see her, and sometimes get some stuff for his bike too, which she’d later help him implement at home.

* He’s a very jealous sort of guy, so seeing her talk and laugh with her co-workers did bring a bitter taste to his throat, especially when she’d bump her shoulder into theirs or let them pat her back after a job well done, but he bit the feelings down-he trusted MC whole-heartedly, and knew this feeling was irrational. He’d never let this interfere in their relationships.

* It really helped when MC introduced him to her co-workers though, and they all gave him the stink eye at first-was this pretty-boy type enough for their friend? But eventually they all saw how much he loves her and accepted him as part of the group. He could tell that most of them looked at MC like a little sister who was just. As buff as them lol, and he appreciated it, happy to know she’s so well liked in her workplace.

* Would absoloutely take her on bike rides too ;) But he’d be thrice as careful than usual-he had his most precious person riding right beside him afterall!! He’d also give her a harsh no when she asked if she could ride the bike instead-he trusts her, but he loves her too much and would never want to risk her getting injured, ever.

V/JIHYUN:

* He found out about her workplace from Seven’s background check, but never thought twice about it. 

* He only put more thought into it, when one day, whilst talking about Zen’s motorcycle in the group chat, Zen took a jab at him, insulting his worn-down, has-seen-better-days little Volkswagen, saying it looks like it’s ready to break at the spot at any minute now.

* MC was suddenly very intrigued by the conversation-asking a dozen questions about V’s car that he honestly had no answer to. He offered that if she was this interested, she could drop by his place for a cup of coffee and to take a look at the car too, especially after she insisted she’d love to help fix it up- “Vintage beauties like that should be conserves as best as possible!” she insisted, and V found her enthusiasm contagious-even if he didn’t share the same interest, seeing how passionate she was about it made his heart flutter.

* He loved how open and bold she could be, even though she was also so bashful from time to time, especially when meeting in person-he almost couldn’t believe that the gentle, soft girl sitting across him nursing a cup of warm coffee between her palms was the same one that managed to shut both Jumin and Zen up whilst they were having yet another arguement in the messenger-he held her at such a high regard after that, even higher than before.

* True to her word, she took one look at his car and decided this is something she just has to get her hands on, already mumbling out loud different alterations she could do to his little Beetle as he called it, whilst keeping its exterior the same.

* V laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder as she stood there eyeing the vehicle. “I trust you fully MC-whatever you want to do to the car, you can do it.”

* The expression of joy that filled MC’s face at his words made his heart skip a beat or two. Hell, he’d break his car a dozen times over if putting it back together would make her this happy!!

* He let her take his car to the shop, so she could match the necessary parts to it, and watched her work-he even met all her co-workers, who by the end of the day, took MC aside and told her ‘to protect this man at all costs’ (cue V looking to them all confused like OwO?? and the big burly men working with MC just holding back tears at his cuteness lmao)

* Within two weeks, the car was unrecognisable-Zen could never make fun of it again! It was still the same old beauty, but it ran so much smoother, it’s engine didn’t turn off every few minutes, even the whole dashboard was different, with a newer radio installed along with an AUX port- “so you can listen to any music you want, all the time!” MC said with a grin that made his heart flutter.

* “I-I’d love to take you on a drive now...on a roadtrip, as a thank-you..maybe?” he asked, his cheeks a furious red as MC beamed up at him.

* He’d oficially ask her to date him at the end of their daytrip, on a hill with a view to the city skyline, sitting on the hood of the car with her beside him-and he’d count his lucky stars for the shitty state his car had been, for letting him meet this new side of MC, the one that made him fall head over heels.

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/scenario for characters reactions!-

[heyyylittlemo]

Ask game

1. Where did you hide the body??

Me: *pause* No, where did you hide the body—

*police stare at me with disbelief*

Me: there’s no—there’s not a single body here—well stop looking at me like that, you’re the cop! You should know! Why are you asking me for! Body? Whaaaaaat. Ahaha.

*cops shake head*

*whispers to my friend* Guys I think I pulled that one off

Police: you know we can hear everything you’re saying

me: 👁👄👁

2. Favorite rock? The 1975. Dominic Fike. Arctic Monkeys. Bad Suns. The killers. Pale Waves. Etc. That good good shit 👌

3. Most aesthetic season? Fall. Love them orange colors. The leaves falling. Though spring is also neat if you have a bunch of flowers bloomin in shit and winter is only aesthetic when it’s snowing. Boring ass summer tho just be heating me up.

4. When texting do u shorten words or spell out? I used to write stuff out all the time mostly but now it’s like half and half bcuz its just faster and nobody got time for it 🤣🤣

5. Vintage stuff? Hell yeah, but maybe not anything too expensive since some old stuff IS hyper expensive.

6. Colors that pop or blend? Not sure I understand what u mean abt them blending ahaha u mean like when they’re so similar to another?? Well I think it’s nice but honestly I prefer a pop and a bang, y’Know?

- At this moment I realized I was answering the last few questions from a completely different ask and felt like a dumbass 😂 anyways the actual number we’re on is three so imma just kickback

3. Worst dream u have ever had? I had sleep paralysis but was imbetween that and a lucid dream. At first I was paralyzed and could see my bed but my eyes felt closed and open at the same time?? A giant dark demon looking dog had towered over me and began to tear at my neck. It looked and felt very real I started to try to scream and it felt like a scream was coming out but no sound exited. Then I went into a lucid dream where I was being chased by this dog and running for my life I was running by and nobody could save me nobody in the dream when it caught up to me I was back in my bed and it was trying to eat me again. I was so terrified I couldn’t sleep for a whole week.

4. Lyric that comes to your mind? “And I don’t think I can be there. I’m paralyzed,I’m terrified of being alone. When you said I deserved what had happened.”

5. Blood make u uncomfortable? Yes, I passed out once when getting my finger pricked and a VERY small blood sample and another when dissecting a fish.

6. Even or odd numbers? Well I like the number 5,7,9, 3 so odd. (Like me 🤣🤣)

7. Something I hate that I love? Anything I’ve ever loved becuz love can be frustrating. Bruh.

8. 1st initial of someone I hate? Hmm...do I hate someone tho? Not that I can think of...

9. *Skipping down the lane* NOPE

10. Corn dogs? It’s funny cuz when I think of corn dogs my mind will always go to when we first moved to our current house because at our initial town we never had Sonic and while we were getting the house fixed up and moving stuff we use to always get Sonic since it was the closest to us most times to eat and that was a bunch of corn dogs and hotdog days 🤣 so thnk u corn dogs for ur service

11. I’m not a huge movie person so...I looked up movies from 2005 and movies Inlike from this time are Brokeback mountain bcuz it’s gay af, Shark Boy and Lava Girl damn I rewatched the shot out of it when I was younger, Narnia and the Chocolate Factory(although it low key creeped me out as a kid, and idk why).

12. Least fav music genre? Most country, most EDM, dubstep, screaming/really hard rock, some pop music, mumble raping.

13. As someone who waits on tables, my job is my least favorite restaurant experience 🤣🤣 just dealing with ppl...like ok, I’m half Hispanic right?? But I look white. Well, I work at a Mexican restaurant and so sometimes racist costumers will say shady shit just bcuz I guess they think it’s appropriate to say it to me just bcuz I’m not Hispanic in their eyes?? But it pisses me off and I feel like I can’t say anything without causing a drama which I hate and when the “costumers always right” it can be hard to budge and stand up and say “bitch wtf did u just say??” And there’s just folks who take things the wrong ways or ask too much at once or give u a hard time or just say something that sticks onto you for the whole day. One bad move can turn my whole day upside down.

14. 3 things never come near me? Cockroaches, Needles, and close mind ppl

15. Worst way to die? With regrets. Something really brutual, random, or where something just happened to go wrong (accident). Being killed by someone u love.

16. Unusual habits? Doing a Michael Jackson esque “hee-hee” after every sneeze I make, being extremely clumsy and making every task 100% more difficult, having the ability to talk as if I have an accent that comes from nowhere in particular just stupidity also I can’t speak my own language half the time 🙃getting words confused or misusing them in a sentence so I sound dumb having a very weird imagination and thoughts, I swear it like I never went to school and don’t know how the world works, plus many many more

17. Clothing style u want? I want to dress in a way that screams who I am and is a blend of both femininity and masculinity. A little vintage. Grunge. Urban maybe?? What do I know abt fashion 🤣🤣

18. Song or artist that deserves more? Dijon, hands down. I love his stuff. He’s like Frank Ocean meets light-singing beautiful lyricist with a more rock vibe?? Hidden gem. I also think Durand Jones & the Indications needs more love along with BadBadNotGood they sound like old-times but are new!! Oh, and Pale Waves is like a female The 1975 and kicks it. Bad Suns is a good alt rock band that no one seems to recognize :,D Toro y Moi too! His song with Flume “The difference “ is a banger!! Kid Cudi is my man when I want a blend of rock and rap. Also Dominic Fike,King Krule, and Roy Blair, who are all amazing!! Ok I need to stop 🛑

Duck I answered the past questions from a different post I’m sorry 😐

17. Emoji never used? There’s a bunch since I reuse the same over and over again. Lmao

18. 3 sentence Gatorade horror story? A faint quiver overtook the small freezer the Gatorade lay in; no one had come by in days, hours, weeks; when was the last time he met the lips of a thirsty body? They’d forgotten about him, as his last sips remained glued to his hollowing entrance. ‘Help, ‘it wanted to say, but it’s frozen lips could not be moved; It’d stay here, die here...just like the rest.” What am I doing with my life 🤣🙏

19. Do u know what an old bay is? A bay that is old? And old ocean? Idk!!!

20. Can u dance? Sometimes I dance when I’m alone but nothing spectral lol

21. What first comes to ur mind when u see ropes? 2 extremes. Sex and death. Hm. Ok. Moving on.

22. Make an obscure reference. “Even a bra couldn’t hold these nipples” *Holds a water gun to chest*

23. Fav balloon color? Pink or yellow.

24. If u were in court would u be innocent or guilty? Depends, what am I in court for 🤣 lmao jk honestly idk bcuz I don’t think I’d wind up in there

25. Are u hungry ? Nope

26. Unlucky number? Hm I don’t think so but I have a lucky number “123”

27. What’s “JMD”stand for? I’m guessing...Jamming my d—- 💀lol jk ahaha why am so dirt

28. Random inside joke? *chirpy squeak* I’m making a double batch of cookies

29. What sends chills up ur spine? Seeing disgust food or smell disgust or talking abt disgust things like gore

30. How many questions are in ur inbox? A pathetic zero ahaha no one want to ask me anything 😂

31. Someone real who scares u. 2 of my ex friends. One when I was 10 said disturbing things and I was kinda forced onto the friendship and everything they said make me fear for others lives...and then a different ex friend who seemed normal at 1st but became both low key psychopath cult leader type stuff and I booed out of there—-.

32. Run or hide? Uhh probably hide because I’d say even if ppl say “u can run but u can’t hide” u CAN just hide! that’s the point of hiding they not find u xD also why not combine them? Hide then run somewhere far away once I got them off the trial.

33. Last person who made u angry? A frickin beetle that flew at me and pinched me in the middle of singing in the shed xD also my autocorrect

34. What’s going on in ur head? I should probably pee soon—

35. Little thing that makes u Smile? A lot of little things bruh.

36. Are u a descisive person?

Not sure.

*pAuse *

Ok, I guess I’m not then 🤣

37. Would ppl say I’m paranoid? Hm maybe about certain things social situations, singing in front of others what ppl think abt me etc etc

38. Store least likely in? Any southern clothes shop, Abercrombie & Finch types shit, lol

39. Do I like hats fave type? Hm not wear many hats but I think they’re cool any type is cool for different ppl and their aesthetici just can’t rock a hat.

40. Bow ties or ties? Don’t really care but now want to see more bow ties

41. Who? You.

42. What? Reading this shit

43. Where? In ur ass

44. When? Now.

45. Why? Not even u know why.

46. How? We all want to know

47. Do u collect anything? Vinyl records.

48. What tome is it? Time to get a watch

49. Fav transportation? My car or walk is possible

50. Would u ever kill someone to save someone? Don’t want to think about that

51. Make a joke. Yo, it’s time to make a joke—so the other day I was working. And I was practicing my Spanish, yes? Anyone whose trying to learn anew language k n o w s that sometimes words can be so close to another u just confuse then! So apparently churros in Spanish is a desert but if u say it more harshly (it literally sounds almost the same) it makes a whole different meaning—diharrea, but like I didn’t know that so I legit just walked up to this person and asked if they would like some shit to eat. So yeah, that was great. Let’s not forget that I mixed up blood, watermelon, and sangria which is a wine. I legit once said I had mixed wine in my vines and another time watermelon 🤣

52. I’m really confused so I skip

53. Would ur dash be confiscated SFW? By dash do u mean this account? Um not 😬

54. Do I like to cuddle? Hell yeah and manhandle ppl all the time it’s my affection

55. What makes u angry? Close minded ppl or ppl who jump too fast to conclusions, strict schedules just dumb stuff that people try to force when I just want to be carefree 😭✌️

56. How many voices are in ur head? 😐

57. Do U consider urself mentally stable? 😐

58. Are u easily offended? Well U just called me mentally unstable and asked it there was voices in my head!!

59. What’s wrong with taking the backstreets? Uhm...

60. Any questions u want ppl to ask u? Nothing in particular but it’s be nice if someone care to ask me something abt me from personal question to my opinions on shit to 19 days fandom related junk 😌

Woooo I’ve finished this game! Thanks to @seiji-amasawa for introducing me to this ^^

[pynkhues]

You're such a good writer. Have you ever thought about writing professionally? :)

Ah! Thank you, anon! You’re so sweet!

I actually do write professionally. It’s forever a weird thing to say, haha, but I’m an award-winning short fiction writer, and have had over 15 original stories published in journals, anthologies and collections. (Also actually just found out I’m having another one published this week, which means I’ve got three stories already coming out this year, which is exciting!) I’ve also written a few novel manuscripts that have been shortlisted for prizes, but haven’t been published yet, and have a screenplay that has been optioned by a production company, but hasn’t yet been turned into a movie. 

Unfortunately, there is not a lot of money in any of those things, haha, at least not in Australia, and I grew up pretty poor, so I also work as both a gun for hire / freelance writer, writing everything from utility manuals to child safety policies and procedures, to product descriptions for various online stores, as well as at a theatre company which makes interactive works for disadvantaged children. 

But yes!

I’m actually currently working on a new novel manuscript which is set against the backdrop of Houdini’s tour of Australia in 1910, and how during that tour he became the first person to fly a plane in Australia. The novel itself though is actually a mystery novel about a woman investigating her grandfather’s (who was a magician) strange death, and how she ends up sort of accidentally teaming up with an American journalist who’s out in Australia reporting on Houdini’s tour. 

You can have a little excerpt, if you’d like!

“Mrs. Hathaway?” Joe asks, and Alma laughs, but it’s empty, even to her own ears. 

“I was, I suppose. Once.”

If Joe has any thoughts about the matter, he keeps his face carefully blank. Instead, he lifts his scotch glass, swirls the liquid like a God does a muddy river in the palm of his clean hand. Before them, the fire crackles – lit for the cool desert night, and only serving to stifle the day’s stagnant heat. There are certain customs that are hard to shake, she thinks, and she pinches the sleeves of her sweaty blouse and thinks that any real place, accustomed to this heat, would never ask this constriction of its people.

In front of the fire, moths and beetles fly, a haphazard array of insects, crashing into one another, fleeing, crashing all over again. The realisation of it is not one that Alma especially cares for, but she keeps it in her head all the same. The way the flames cast their light across the glossy shells of the insects.

“I don’t want to pry,” Joe says suddenly, and Alma tilts her head towards him. Takes in his careful, downcast expression, his careful, downturned lips.

“I rather think you do,” she says, as gently as she can manage it. “You don’t have to be so careful, really. There’s no fantastic story to tell, and no particularly extraordinary tragedy about the matter. I was married, and now I am not.”

Joe looks at her then, properly, for perhaps the first time since Mr. Wellesley called her name across the gathering all those days ago. His eyes are so green, it almost surprises her.

“See, I’m not entirely sure I believe that,” he replies, and Alma laughs, dropping her head forwards and reaching for her own conspiring cup.

“Last I checked, I was not your story.”

Joe tilts his head, back and forth, as if weighing up her statement, a shadow of that familiar smile ghosting his lips.

“Perhaps I undersold your character.”

“Perhaps you did.”

The insects are growing in volume, if not size. Their wings a light catching gauze in the throes of this deep night. Vaguely, Alma can hear patrons on the floor above them, stepping the long corridors of the hotel, their laughs and their slurs and their missteps like a play across the stage of her head. And if they are, then perhaps she is to Mr. Goddard, she supposes. She sighs.

“You are aware that I worked as a governess in one of the northern houses?”

Joe nods, quickly, briskly, leaning ever so slightly forwards in his seat.

“Mr. Hathaway was a groundsman at the same house. He’d served in the Boer War, and from the stories I’d heard, not all of him had made it back.”

She swirls the scotch around in her own glass, watching the amber liquid mouth up the sides of her cup.

“That is not uncommon,” Joe says quietly. “At least, not of the men I know who have served.”

“No, of course not,” Alma says, shaking her head. “And that’s not entirely what I meant. I suppose I never knew him before it, and so the man I met was the only man I knew. He was kind and he was quiet, tormented, but I know a lot of tormented folk, so it was not unusual to me. We did not fall in love exactly, but - - I liked him. And I rather think he liked me, and perhaps that could have become love. I don’t know.”

She pauses, lost, for a moment, in her own memories of a man who had, for a very brief time, become the most important part of her life. It’s as if a tent has been erected inside her, forcing aside her bones and her organs, allowing unwelcome feelings to sleep within her. Alma sighs.

“He shot himself. About a year after we were married.”

She finishes her scotch.

Beside her, Joe is quiet, still turning over the glass in his hands, letting the liquid roll up the sides, warm between his skin and the fire. He brings it to his nose, inhales deeply, but does not take a sip. It’s unexpected, unusual, perhaps, but she had been warned about the strange habits of Americans, and of this, this seems like one of Joe’s lesser ones.

“I rather think you’ve done what many thought impossible,” Joe muses quietly. “And rendered me speechless.”

She laughs, and Joe weighs her with a careful, considering look.

“Oh, Mr. Goddard, if only I knew the key to that was a few well-timed words of my own.”

He laughs, but his face remains shadowed, uncertain, and she puts her own glass down on the floor and reaches her hands for his free one. He gives it freely, and she turns it over in hers, running her fingers, still damp from her glass, across the palm of his freckled hand.

“You know, back when I was a part of my grandfather’s act, I would put on a shawl and read palms as the opener.”

He laughs again, a gentler one this time, scrunching up his nose in a way that reminds her that they are both so young still. So young to have felt this much. He leans back, almost embarrassed, but Alma follows him.

“Hm,” she hums, stroking a finger down his palm. A part of her knows this is improper, a young, widowed woman, without gloves, touching the skin of a young, unwedded man, but for now, there’s nothing in the world that feels more proper than this.

“This,” she says, her voice donning the vague, European accent she’d wear during her shows. “This is your lifeline.”

She taps it once, twice, three times.

“It’s long,” and it is. Very long, stretching around the heel of his hand and curling at the base. “You’ll live a long life.”

Joe sits up a little straighter, leaning forwards in his own chair.

“A good life?”

“That, unfortunately, is not something the palms can easily tell.”

He chuckles, a breathy one, spreading his fingers better in her hand, as if offering better access to the lines of him, and Alma swallows thickly.

The weight of a hand in hers is not foreign to her, but somehow Joe’s feels both too heavy and impossibly light. Feels - -

Well.

Just feels, she supposes.

She turns his hand over in her own, looking at the long, graceful lines of it, the fresh dirt beneath his nails, the cricks in his skin that tell her everything and nothing.

“Your hands are long,” she says, running her thumb across his knuckles, relishing in the warmth it spreads through her chest. “And thin. Which means you’re loyal, and that you’re kind, and you’re thumb bends out, so you’re generous too. But,” and she tuts then, amused, shaking her head. “Your fingernails. They’re short and round, which means you’re a gossip.”

He hoots at that, like she’d thought he might, and a smile paints her face as she opens his hand again in hers. She can feel him then, leaning closer, his breath on the back of her head, shifting her sweat-damp hair.

She uncurls his hand in hers, moving her thumbs from the heel of his hand up towards the tips of his long, arching fingers. She can feel the pulse in them, the flutter of it just below the veil of his thin skin.

“Your head line is short, which means you are impulsive, but it curves down slightly, which means you are gentle.”

She can feel Joe getting closer, shifting beneath her hands, moving nearer to her in his seat, until his whole body is curved towards her. Her own breath picks up, the fire before them suddenly too hot. Hotter than it has felt before. She brushes a hand back through her hair. Tries to stroke any knot from it. Free it from its bindings. She must be quiet too long, for the next question Joe asks, is: “Are there any more?”

Alma blinks, feels the sweat building at her lashes, tries to blink them free.

“Your heart line,” she says, and she can feel more than see Joe smile. “It starts before your index finger, and it’s deep. Which means you fall in love quickly, but that you love intensely.”

He hums, a small sound like an agreement, and Alma touches the rough flat of her thumb to the softness of his palm, and she remembers all the ways she wasn’t made for this man.  That Joe - - that Mr. Goddard - - that he might be a working man in the bowels of New York City, but as far as the rough, dirty middle of Queensland is, he’s an upper class boy with no idea as to the gruelling design of this land. He was built for the tamed, not the wild, and he is not Alma. He is not a desperate, writhing snake trying to find family in the desert that has loved her and abandoned her and made her whole, nor the tropics which have weathered her skin, and shed her bare beneath the tempest of its moods. He will marry a good, American girl with a good, American dowry, and a quick wit and a smart look, and the wild of this trip, and the wild of Alma, will become a story he will tell friends at bars, if it even becomes that.

She pulls away, dropping his hand, and ignoring the way he tries to chase her.

“There will be someone worthy of that hand, some day,” she says instead, rising from her seat, a quiver in her legs that surprises her. “Sadly, this is where I must leave you, Mr. Goddard. I am rather tired, all of a sudden, and know we have a rather monstrous day ahead of us, if we are to make it back down to Marigold’s before the dusk.”

She turns, moving promptly towards the stairs leading up to their rooms, and she hears the scrape of the chair across the floorboards behind her, and the calling of her name - names, Miss Rivers first, and then Mrs Hathaway and then suddenly, strikingly, Alma, and she picks up her pace away from him before she can even consider that it is the first time she has heard her name at his lips.

[marypsue]

they never really go away

[AO3]

1.

Some houses are born bad. Some wicked intent forms each stone of the foundation and each shingle of the roof, some malice imbues every cornice and warps every floorboard, tuning a fine creaking instrument from innocent wood. Some houses are silos for darkness, gathered in some unspeakable harvest and stored away against the lean bright summer months, a refuge and shelter for things that blossom like mushrooms away from the light. Some houses are infested with wickedness the way other houses, kinder houses, more normal houses, are infested with ants or termites; and the wickedness proves far more difficult to exterminate.

Some houses are born bad; some houses achieve badness; and some houses have badness thrust upon them.

Some houses die bad.

Crimson Peak sinks. Hill House burns.

It doesn't matter how, or when. Perhaps Allerdale Hall, called Crimson Peak, suffers a slow suffocation, through long years sucked gradually into the bleeding clay ground, its reluctant inheritor never returning to see its beautifully-carven staircase rising from red nothing towards a rotten roof, to walk triumphant atop its shingles as it commits itself and its dead to living burial. Perhaps it happens all at once, the soft soil parting beneath it and flowing back in following the collapse to smother over turrets and widow's walk and chimneys all, leaving nothing but a small pucker in the peak of the hill to show it and all its secrets had ever stood at all. Perhaps the townsfolk of Hillsdale finally grow tired of Hill House's watchful eyes above them, its evil presence overshadowing their town. Perhaps a careless renter, in their haste to get away, leaves a fire in one of the grates, a fire that even the diligent Mrs. Dudley does not arrive in time to smother.

It doesn't matter how. Crimson Peak sinks, Hill House burns, and for whatever walked there, the story should by rights be over.

But some houses are born bad. Some houses are no sooner built than shadows, flying in from elsewhere, take root in their walls.

2.

You called me here.

3.

It was a charming patch of land, bordered on all sides by a wall of tall, cool oleanders, shaking their pink and white blossoms over the road and the little stream. It had been developed, or slated for development, but some tragedy or bureaucracy had claimed all but the very foundations of a little house which, Jill was certain, would have been equally charming. The land had stood empty and overgrown for years before she and Henry had driven by and fallen immediately in love. A few hours in the village office and the office of a realtor later, and it was theirs.

The builders had had problems from the start. The old foundation was too weathered, too overgrown - it had to be pulled up and recast, or risk the house being unstable. Once built on its strong new foundation, though, the house was quite unstable nonetheless. Angles sloped, just slightly, just enough to unnerve. Doors sagged unexpectedly open, and stood waving back and forth in not the slightest breath of draft. The stairs sang out in the middle of the night just exactly as though someone were climbing, up and up, on and on, into infinity. What should have been a bright and airy cottage developed, somehow, an indefinable closeness, a sort of darkness clinging to the corners like cobwebs, in defiance of every window and lamp. There was a lingering smell of earth.

Jill disliked it from the moment she first laid eyes on it, and Henry did too. But, having put so much of themselves into it, and having so little of themselves to put in the first place, they each independently resolve not to speak of it. They had had such dreams, when first they’d seen the patch of land, for the home they would build and the life they would live together there. Now, even with so many of their hopes dashed, they cannot let go of the only solid piece of those dreams that remains. 

So they endure the miserable miasma of the house, hoping with a fervour that borders on religious that it will get better if they just change the draperies, air out the rooms, add more lights. If they only keep trying, keep trying, keep trying. 

If they can only stay one more night.

4.

She is all hard and armoured, like a glittering beetle, and she dislikes to be seen, yet still there is something about her - it - them. Something reminiscent of a time before, something dear and fleeting and lost, lost, lost. Something bright, and yellow, like a stray sunbeam. A little cat. A cousin, perhaps.

Something all sharp under its manipulative sweetness. Something dearly, dreadfully hated.

(She is wicked, Eleanor, wicked as bright red toenails on dirty feet. Wicked, Daughter, as Foxe's illustrated Hell. Wicked as a name written in blood.

And she knows your thoughts without your voicing them, does she not, you foolish girl? Her little gift of perception. She knows which buttons to press.)

5.

Eleanor Vance had been her mother's caretaker, towards the end of the old woman's life. 

It had been a thankless, grueling reality, and one from which Eleanor had never dreamed of escaping until, quite suddenly, she was out. Cut loose in a world in which she could not fully participate, not anymore; a world constructed at slightly wrong angles from the only world she knew. Little wonder, then, that the twisting halls of Hill House, so disorienting, repulsive, and frightening at first, quickly welcomed her as one of their own.

What fled from the smoking ruins of Hill House was not exactly Eleanor Vance, or even a shade of her. But it was followed, as it sped invisibly on an icy wind through the dingy, miserable streets of Hillsdale and down, out from the shadows of those encroaching hills into the world beyond, by a tremendous rattling and tapping, as though someone were banging on the walls of all of Hillsdale's houses and all the trees lining the narrow, winding Route 5, with a heavy, old-fashioned cane.

Lady Lucille Sharpe stove her mother's head in with a cleaver.

She would have liked to have been a caretaker, a nurturer, someone who encouraged lovely and cherished things to grow, and to that end she was quite willing to dirty her fine white hands. To be the gardener, the keeper, the shepherd or perhaps the sheepdog; the one who fought off the wolf, the one who killed live food for the young and toothless, the one who ground blood and bone meal for the roses. She never could have what she truly wanted, but she had her brother, his love. She had her house.

And that which she tended grew strangely, in the dark.

What sank with the ruins of Allerdale Hall was not Lucille Sharpe, nor had it been for a long, long time. It lay there, buried with the house it wore like a scarab's shimmering carapace, until the very beams and bones of Allerdale Hall decayed around it into something unrecognisable.

And then it stirred, as though waking from a long, sad dream.

6.

A quiet resentment brews between Jill and Henry.

Each blames the other. For forcing their hand, for pushing them into a commitment to a house that should itself have been committed. What should have been a dream - their charming patch of land, their little cottage all their own - has turned nightmare; and now, rather than wake themselves, they prefer to turn upon one another. If she had not so desired the little dormer windows on the roof, the ones that glower down from the roof like calculating eyes, the ones that let in nearly no light. If he had not insisted on building so close to the line of trees, the better to protect from the wilder winter winds. If she had not exclaimed in delight as they first drove past.

Neither wants the house any longer, and yet, some perverse pride or whimsy will let neither relinquish it.

It’s Henry who notices the smell of smoke. Who sees, from the drive, the thin, pale wisp rising from the chimney of the wood fireplace when he knows no one else to be home.

But it’s Jill who hears the crying in the small hours of the night.

7.

It should have been new, and free, and fine, away down the hills, all strange and charming and peaceful. It feels as though the search for peace has been endless. Is endless.

As the flames had devoured binding veranda and great front doors and sugar eggs and cherub faces and delicate-patterned wallpaper, as heavy draperies and musty books and overstuffed chairs and tilted floors had fallen to ash and the very stones of the tower had warmed, as silverware had melted in its drawers and china cracked on its shelves, she had fluttered, broken-winged, to a refuge half-remembered. A magic square of poison trees, an enchantment that another her had promised once to return and break.

And, in slow stages, break it did.

Once...once, when such things could be dreamed, needed to be dreamed, imagination had populated this place with a palace invisible, with a warm and welcoming royal mother, with a knight-errant or prince upon a white charger riding down, bejeweled and smiling, from the hills. These visions do not quite come to pass, and yet.

The palace is a cottage, and rises slow, progress hampered by workmen’s irrational superstitious fears. The man and the woman who come to live there are quite young, no child with them, though one of the rooms is bordered with soft pastel animals. The woman sits there, in the rocking chair, most days, and looks out the little dormer window over the lawn and the road and the stream away at the back of the property, rocking and rocking. She is no queen, and no mother, but something in her presence is welcoming all the same.

And what comes down from the hills is no prince.

At first, in the failing light, it appears all white. White, with trailing pennants and ribbons of velvet red.  Like an oleander. Like something from a storybook, like a fairy tale. (Always Prince Valiant for you, Eleanor - but then, would you ever do with anything less? Always the charming men with haunted birthrights, all empty behind the blue eyes. Always the ones lacking a mother. Always the ones who see you for how foolish you are, how easy to take in.)

But as the sun sinks, as that which comes from the hills draws nearer, it can be seen to be red. Red as clay, red as blood. It draws a train behind it, long and glittering, of satin sewn with fine glass beads. Or perhaps it leaves behind it a glistening trail of something wet and red and sticky, like an enormous crimson slug, a great vile clot of blood.

By the time it steps, or perhaps flows, into the shade of the oleanders, out of the sun, it appears quite black. It lies like a spill of ink, or perhaps oil, across the fine soft grass and little wild flowers, faint Stygian blues and greens gleaming in its depths, with its long train still glistening redly behind it; and it stares, eyeless as a skull, up at the house.

(Journeys end in lovers meeting, Eleanor; journeys end in lovers meeting.)

And, from the watchful eyes of the dormer windows, that which gazes eyelessly back recognises kin.

8.

Henry is already sitting up in bed when Jill stirs awake.

“I was dreaming,” he says, and then stops, staring at the narrow silver bar of moonlight cast against the wall. “My mother. It’s been years -”

He falls silent, again. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, at last. “I don’t blame you. I mean - I don’t mean to blame you. I know it’s not your fault, I only...” He stops, and gestures helplessly, as though he has run out of words. As though there are no more words left to say what must be said. 

Jill wriggles her way up in the bed and leans her head against his shoulder. Henry puts his arm around her, and Jill pulls the blankets up around them. The weather must be turning, she thinks, pressing up against his side, seeking warmth as much as comfort. There’s a chill in the air, like the wind off a high glacier, biting at her bare face.

She isn’t sure, at first, if Henry has heard it as well. But then he goes stiff beside her, his staring eyes fixing on the door. 

Beyond it, from down the hall, from the direction of the nursery, quite clearly, comes a pitiful, reedy cry, high and thin, like an infant far too young.

9.

You and I, Eleanor. We are caretakers. We have always put the needs of others above our own desires. And has that not brought us our desires, in the end? Your small, earned measure of happiness?

Do you dare to seize that happiness, Eleanor? Do you even know it when it stands before you? Have you always been so ashamed even to know, to name, what it is you desire?

We, who have dwelt so long in darkness, have no use for such human things as shame.

You called me here, Eleanor. You.

10.

The house, never friendly, grows colder and colder around them. Jill takes to wearing large sweaters and thick socks. Henry turns the heat up and up. His lips thin into a firm line when Jill suggests a fire in the fireplace. She does not suggest it again.

Something thumps against the walls, always in the night, always waking them both from sound sleep. Henry says, firmly, that it must be the oleander branches, muses that perhaps they should not have built so close to the windbreak, after all. 

There is a sound, like a woman softly sobbing, or perhaps singing, or perhaps screaming, that seems to leak down the stairs when both Jill and Henry are below. A fox, Jill was certain, at first. But she could not explain why it seemed to come from inside the house.

(The few times they’ve gone looking for it, it’s come from behind different closed doors. Jill’s never gathered the courage to open one. The time Henry did, there was nothing behind it but the pastel wallpaper they’d picked out for the nursery, and the rocking chair by the window slowly rocking to a halt.)

And then there are the things that only one of them see. Henry comes flying up out of the basement one evening, swearing that blood is coming up through the floor in the shape of human footprints, but when Jill goes down the concrete floor is clean and bare and dry. Jill runs herself a bath on another evening and screams when blood, not water, flows from the tap, but when Henry comes running the water is clear, if a little yellowed from the iron in the ground.

Henry slips into bed with icy feet one night, long after Jill had thought he’d been in bed already, swearing about a dog, it must have been a dog, he’d had to chase out of the yard. Jill wakes from a doze in the rocker in the nursery and sees, out the dormer window, away down by the stream, a small family in old-fashioned clothes, with a red picnic blanket spread out underneath them and a puppy or small dog racing excitedly around them, a bright red ball in its mouth. She thinks nothing of it, until she blinks, and they’re no longer there.

Moths keep getting into the house, somehow. They’re multiplying; there are three new ones for every one Henry kills, for every one Jill traps and throws outside. Their powdery wings rustle in the darkness of the bedroom almost exactly like someone in a heavy, old-fashioned dress circling around and around the room.

The cries come every night. 

11.

Eleanor Vance had been her mother's caretaker, towards the end of the old woman's life.

You killed her, Eleanor. You know you did. As surely as though you had laid your hands upon a knife. You heard her stick tapping, thumping, against the wall. You heard her cries for help. And you. Eleanor. The good daughter, the dutiful daughter, the pious daughter. 

You turned right over, and you went back to sleep.

Lady Lucille Sharpe stove her mother's head in with a cleaver.

Ah. Never the good daughter. Dutiful, perhaps. But never pious. 

Do you know, Eleanor, what drives a woman to kill her own mother? 

Oh. Yes. Of course you do.

12.

The moon is pouring silver through the window when Jill wakes, her fingers numb, her bones solid with ice. With nerveless hands, she pushes the covers aside.

The floorboards are like ice beneath her feet, and with each step, she can feel them sink slightly. Can hear the faintest sound, like something sucking at the boards from beneath. Like something oozing up between them.

She hesitates in front of the door, aware somewhere in the frozen cage of her brain that she is afraid to open it, afraid to reach out and turn the antique crystal knob she remembers picking out with such joy, such hope. It doesn’t feel like the kind of fear she always thought she’d feel. It just feels as though her mind is there, whole and intact, perfectly rational and calm, while terror goes on all around her.

Jill reaches out and turns the knob, opens the door, steps out into the hall towards the sound of an infant’s laboured cries.

The hall is all black, except where the moonlight lays a silver path down the middle, leading to the gaping black hole of a door that leads into the nursery where no living child has ever slept. Jill watches her own bare feet as she walks, all strange and white and almost glowing, hardly feeling her own legs move. Her arms are wrapped around her, her fingers digging into the flesh of her arms, but she barely feels that either. She becomes dimly aware, as she proceeds down the hall towards the void-black square of the nursery door, that she is shivering. She becomes dimly aware, as she proceeds down the hall towards the void-black square of the nursery door, that the single window that looks onto the hall should not admit enough moonlight to illuminate the entire path from her door to the nursery. 

The dark door rises up before her, and swallows her whole.

13.

She is all hard and armoured, like a glittering beetle, and she dislikes to be seen.

In the sweeping train of her old-fashioned dress, though; in the thickly-oozing red stain that leaches slowly up through the floor where she stands; in the hollow gaze of her empty sockets, like high, darkened windows; she carries with her the sorrows and memories and longings of multitudes. Every one who ever died at her hand bleeds out around her; sometimes she is enrobed in crimson, sometimes powdered in white. She carries with her every lost one she has ever loved - or hated - or both. She herself is a haunted house.

She dislikes to be seen. Because it is impossible, on seeing her, not to know at once what deepest desires drip from her raw and bloody heart.

It is impossible, on seeing her, not to notice the helpless, twisted red bundle she cradles so gently in her arms.

(Those hands that pressed poison on helpless, trapped girls, those arms that bore lifeless bodies down into bleeding clay earth. Why not leave? Why not escape, once freedom was won? Why remain in a trap, why prolong the horror?)

Why go on to Hill House at all? Why not simply stop, and live some enchanted life in a little cottage with a blue door and a white cat on the step? 

Lady Lucille Sharpe had been her mother's caretaker, towards the end of the old woman's life. Eleanor Vance stove her mother's head in with a cleaver. 

They neither of them are here, in the little cottage with its hinges creaking in doorless chambers and its singing stairs and its bad angles to confound the eye and inner ear. And both of them are here, and their mothers besides, and the man they'd thought they'd loved and burned to see with another woman (do you know how the scent of burning follows you, Eleanor, do you see how you shed ash), and the woman they'd never admitted to themselves that they'd wanted and the daughter, the daughter, the poor lost traitorous wicked daughter they'd loved...

The horror...the horror was for love. Because freedom without love is no freedom at all. 

14.

Henry wakes to Jill’s softly cuddling up beside him, curling close against him in a way she hadn’t done in a long time, since before the house was finished, since before she began clinging to him again in fear. He turns, to see her smiling, a smile, as well, that he had almost forgotten she could wear.

“Jill?” he asks, and that smile grows wider.

“Henry,” she says, with a little sigh, and puts her arms around him, her head on his bare chest. “I’m ready.”

“You - but -” The moonlight spills over her hair, turning it to a shining halo, softening the sharp angles of her face and blurring the fine worry lines that had started to gather around her mouth and her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” Jill repeats, her voice almost dreamlike. “I want to try again.”

15.

There are things that tie them to a place...an emotion, a drive. Loss, revenge...or love.

Some houses are born bad. Some houses are no sooner built than shadows, flying in from elsewhere, take root in their walls.

The nameless house in its cage of oleanders was not perhaps born bad, but had badness thrust upon it. A box stuffed to bursting with pasts and sorrows not its own, with a restless longing that none who dwelt there had ever been able to fulfill. 

But whatever walks there, no longer walks alone. 

[the-recusants-sigil]

Hello, hello! Thank you for the warm welcome!! <3 

OK so I absolutely ADORE this idea and I love writing for these four so so much!!  I couldn’t write just a couple of sentences and these turned into novel chapters, so I’m splitting your request into 4 parts. That way, I’m not just dropping a 10K word document on you asfhsfshfhsf

Here is Part 1 of your request- going numerically, that’d be Xigbar!

Thanks again for stopping by, I hope you like this one and the others to come!!

Xigbar

Words: 2388

-The mission started out simply enough. It definitely wasn't anything outlandishly difficult: just track down an overgrown Heartless, eliminate it, and report back. Absolutely no big deal.

-Except it WAS a big fuckin deal. There he was, wandering the Land of Dragons in the dead of winter, on the edge of hypothermia and certainly not thinking straight. Perhaps he was no longer capable of feeling emotions, but frostbite was another story entirely. He knew better than to RTC without finishing  a mission, so here he was,in the dark,  trudging through waist-deep dnowdrifts on a fucking mountain to find this stupid thing.

-Xigbar had been walking since he arrived that morning. In fact, he'd started out in a slightly warmer climate miles away at this point, and he'd briefly pondered taking off his jacket to cool off a bit despite the risks. Now, his teeth chattered violently and he wished with every fiber of his being for a fire. Just a small one, to warm his toes and keep his fingers firmly attached.

-In the faint light of the half-moon, he caught sight of something that stopped him dead in his tracks: a single, enormous footprint.

-Squinting into the darkness, he peered ahead and made out another, and another, heading up the mountain towards a small cluster of coniferous trees up ahead. Ah, shit. More walking.

-Before he could take a single step, a low, rumbling growl came from behind him. The Freeshooter turned, slowly, to face the biggest fucking Heartless he'd ever seen in his life.

-Glistening fangs, beady yellow eyes, twisted horns and inky black scales covered the thing. If he had to guess, Xigbar figured the thing was at least twelve feet tall and built like a tank.

-As he discovered, it was fast, too- even its eyes, glowing bright in the darkness, were impossible to track as the thing closed the distance between the two. It swiped at him with claws like kitchen knives and put him on the defensive immediately. No doubt, the beast had his number; at every point he warped to, it was waiting with jaws wide open, ready to crunch down. It batted him around, tossing him in the air and catching him in its jaws once it had its fun.

-Between the cold and the brutal sneak-attack, Xigbar found his energy fading fast. He raised his only free hand and squeezed his eye shut, focusing the last of his energy on getting somewhere, anywhere, safe.

-......

-....................

-Look, all you were trying to do was keep your head down and out of trouble. There were a lot of vibrant characters in San Fransisco, but all you cared about was doing well at your job and enjoying your ground floor studio apartment. Affordable housing of any kind was a rare luxury in the city, and you'd struck gold with a landlady who just wanted a good, responsible, quiet tenant. For her, you checked all the boxes.

-You certainly weren't looking to get involved with anyone else. Not platonically, not romantically, not even as roommates.

-And yet, here was this man leaned against your trashcan in the alley, bleeding everywhere and groaning. Despite the summer heat, he was dressed way up in a long black trenchcoat (torn to tatters though it was), trousers, knee length boots, and gloves.

-What was his deal?

-You'd never seen a dying person before. OK, so maybe he wasn’t dying. But as it was, if anyone else were to witness him in the alley, in front of your place, bleeding out with only you around, they might assume it was you who did it. Your brain short-circuited and, unable to fully think through the situation, you dragged the man inside your apartment and slid the patio door closed.

-So there you were, panicking inside your studio with an unconscious dying dude bleeding out on the floor. What would your landlord say? Would you ever get your deposit back for damaging the green shag carpet?

-At the very least, you figured you could ask him some questions when he woke up and help him contact the cops, in case he'd lost his phone. In the meantime, you put on a pot of coffee and watched the man sleep, contemplating his features. He was handsome, with nicely tanned skin and long, dark hair shot through with streaks of brown. A deep scar ran the length of one cheek, and the opposite eye was covered with an eyepatch. He sort of looked like an anime convention escapee, you thought, but then again, folks in the city proper were often just like this.

-”Ugghhh....” the man stirred gently, and you jumped. The single remaining eye fluttered open, and you were struck by the color: bright yellow, like your little Volkswagen Beetle parked outside. He glanced around slowly at first before sitting bolt-upright and grimacing. Perhaps he forgot about his injuries.

-”Uh... are you okay?” you asked dumbly. His head whipped around to meet you, and the intensity of his glare instantly made you feel... small.

-”Yeah, definitely, just dandy,” he grunted and waved flippantly in your direction. Steadying himself against the wall, he tried and failed to rise to his feet. The man raised a mangled hand into the air in front of him, ever so briefly, then sighed and let it drop to his side. “Can you... can you maybe tell me where exactly I am?”

-”Uh, I mean- it's, uh. My apartment. San Fransisco? California? Planet Earth?”   You licked your lips and sighed. “I found you in the alley. Did you get hit by a car?”

-”Car? What are you talking about? I don’t know what any of that means. I need to get home. I need to get out of here and report back- OWWWW!” Xigbar yelped as his second failed attempt at standing brought him closer to the ground.

-”No. I don't think so, Mister. You might have a concussion.”At that point, you'd already folded the spare futon down from its hiding spot in the wall and tossed down some spare pillows and blankets.

-“That means lots of rest. I thought they were worse, but your cuts don't actually look horrible. Let's get you cleaned up and laying down, then maybe we can get you an urgent care appointment to look at your head.”

-”No. No doctors.”

-”You religious, or scared or something?”

-”Er- yeah. Somethin' like that.”

-.............

-Xigbar really knew he should have RTC'd as soon as he was able to stand. He should have reported back a week ago. Yet here he was, truly a stranger in a strange land, crashing on this good Samaritan's couch, eating good food, and- for the first time in a really long time- relaxing.

-For him, some peroxide, butterfly bandages and ibuprofen were the trifecta- his wounds cleaned up nicely and the pain was definitely more bearable.

-You called out of work for the week shortly after he woke up, feeding them a line about your brother-in-law dying or some shit; you didn't have one, of course, but nobody had to know that. He told you his name was Xigbar, and that's really all you knew. The dude was tight-lipped to say the least.

-Xigbar went with you on every trip you took. At first, he was pretty wary of your little yellow Bug, but he warmed up to it pretty quickly- at least, until you dumped the clutch and stalled on a hill for the first time. He jumped like he thought the thing was trying to kill him, and you couldn't help but laugh.

-He went with you on trips to the grocery store. You showed him your favorite restaurant (and taught him how to talk to the server like a person rather than a barmaid). He sat next to you on the sofa as you pointed angrily at the TV and complained about some goings-on in your world. He helped you uncork a cheap bottle of Trader Joe's wine, then another, and another, and you ended up talking shit about your coworkers. For you, it was the guy who followed you all over the office and wouldn't leave you alone for anything. Xigbar offered to punch him as a show of gratitude, but you assured him that no, it was really okay, the guy was just a little weird.

-On the other hand, Xigbar's work stories were different. You surmised that his office was comprised entirely of... er, vibrant characters. Like, for instance, the one that ditched work every single day by hanging out in the break room right next to his manager. There was also the “gambling addict in denial”- according to Xigbar-  who had, just a few weeks ago, literally swindled the pants off of a man in a bar. And there was the one who could, and would, electrocute and stab anyone and everyone for the slightest of infractions.

-”Uh, dude. Have you talked to HR?”

-”...What's an 'HR'?”

-”Human Resources, duh!” you sighed dramatically.

-The loud, barking laugh that followed told you that he had not, in fact, talked to HR.

-.........................

-Six days had passed since you'd found Xigbar bleeding all over everything in your alley. Since then he'd improved dramatically, and when you could tell he was feeling well enough to stand on his feet, you decided that his seventh day with you would be devoted to seeing as many tourist attractions as possible together. The guy didn't have any memories, he told you, so you wanted to help him “start fresh” with as many happy ones as possible.

-This was, of course, a total lie: Xigbar remembered everything in his life, he liked to think, with the exception of how he got here. He was totally content to live the lie and continue following you around.

-In just a few days, something about you had grown on him. He couldn't quite place it, but it was something about your smile, your ripostes after his witty comments, the way your hair fell over your face when you slept, your tendency to rant and rave and scream at the endless city traffic... he didn't know what to do. For the first time in a long time, he was at a loss.

-You took him absolutely everywhere you could think of: a boat tour of the bay, a cable car ride up Telegraph Hill, a brief stop for brunch at a local bistro, gift store browsing, and finally a walk across the Golden Gate Bridge to watch the sun set. The roads were more peaceful than they normally were, even for a Sunday evening. Perfect, you thought.

-If Xigbar had a heart it would have been racing: being near him made his mind do backflips and twist itself into knots. He enjoyed being there, but more than he liked the sight of the setting sun, he loved the wind in your hair and the glimmer of joy in your eyes. Those beautiful eyes.... God dammit.

-”Hey, let's take a picture!”

-”Huh??”

-Before he could stop you, you'd produced your phone from your pocket and turned on the camera.

-You held the phone in front of the two of you, snapping a seies of pictures, and drew it close to examine. In all of them, Xigbar smiled even wider than you had- genuinely, not his usual, wolfish grin.

-He has such a nice smile, you thought.

-He peeked over your shoulder at the picture, too, and felt his chest tighten in a way he'd nearly forgotten.

-.......

-After that, Xigbar knew it was time for him to head back. Xemnas would surely drill him about his whereabouts. Xigbar thought it odd that he hadn't seen so much as a single Shadow in his time here. Even if the world was really as bad as you said it was, he supposed that a world yet untouched by darkness must have some kind of hope.

-The minute you got home, you printed out two copies of the picture of the two of you on glossy photo paper, each picture small enough to fit inside a wallet. He took it gratefully from you and turned it over in his hands, the tightness in his chest creeping back.

-”This has been a really great time. Thanks for takin' such great care of me. You really got a knack for it,” he started. Suddenly your chest, too, felt heavy. “But I really oughta get back to my life. Boss Man's gotta be wonderin' about me by now, ya know? Same with yours.”

-”Yeah... I guess so,” you sighed. It had been nice having him around, despite the rocky beginning. Your eyes swept over his lithe figure and settled on his face- angular, ruggedly handsome, and watching you intently for a follow-up to your response.

-”I'm actually going to miss you,” you admitted.  “Who's gonna sass me for running stop signs and stalling on hills? Or talk shit about my coworkers with me? I hope I get to see you again. Please don't be a stranger.”

-He reached forward, fingertips brushing over your face, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn't brush him off when he laced his fingers through your hair, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you grabbed his coat and pulled him in as close as you could.

-He drew away sooner than you would have liked. Than you would have both liked, really.

-”I'll make a point to stop back by, 'kay?” he assured you. With a sad smile, he lifted a hand and was surrounded by wisps of inky black and purple smoke. Just like that, he was gone.

-”W-what?” Wide-eyed, heart racing, you glanced around your apartment and resisted the urge to scream.

-”What the FUCK was that?!”

-.................

-As soon as Xigbar was back within the walls of the castle, he realized he'd fucked up.

-”Aww, shit!” There was no way she hadn’t seen the corridor of darkness, and there wasn’t really a good way to explain it, either.

-Mortified, and more than a little tired, he reached into his pocket and checked to make sure the picture was still there. Xemnas could wait until tomorrow; he'd sleep on his little snafu and figure out what to say the next time he visited you.

[angelfire115]

The One who fell

It was a normal day, the sun was shining, the birds were singing. On days like these, people like Alice, should be out in the sunshine. She wasn't much for society, just a a girl starting a new life. She started her first job in a few days, had an apartment and a loving cat named Cheeky. Her parents had prepared her for this day since she was 15 and she was so excited for it as well.

She left her home and walked herself to the stores, it may have been sunny but it was slightly windy too, which made walking a breeze (pun intended). On her way she passed some very unexpected and sketchy people. They all wore black cloaks and held strange items, for example, one of them had a staff with a skull on the end. She decided to ignore them and not judge their way of clothing, everyone was different after all.

As she made it to the stores and open the door, she was greeted by cool air con and an old man who stood behind the counter, saying his hellos and giving her a wave. She resipicated the kind gesture and moved to the items of the store. She grabbed, milk, eggs, chocolate bars, some chips and some meat and veggies for dinner. Once she was done, she made her way out, paying her items and saying goodbye as she went outside, back into the hot sun.

She looked to the sky, squinting her eyes from the light. She was happy and content with everything but she had a feeling deep in her gut that it would make it better if something exciting happened. When she walked back she noticed the suspicious party was gone. She did wonder what they were up to but the thought left her pretty quickly. It wasn't any of her business,although, if she saw them again, she would kindly ask, she was curious after all.

As she passed the spot where she saw them, a sudden scream came from behind a building. It caught her attention and she decided to inspect. She rounded a corner, pulling out her phone just in case she needed to call the police. Behind the building were assortments of items that looked like the ones those people were carrying. And in the middle of it was a drawing of a pentagram. Alice: "What is this? What were they doing?".

She walked forward to see more closer to the drawings and items. A sudden clang of noise and voices were heard from behind her. She turned and backed away, scared it was the group, scared what they could do to her. As she backed away stepping onto the drawing, it lit up like a spot light, blinding her. Forcing her to drop her phone. A sudden burst off flames came up from the drawing engulfing her.

She thought this was the end, the end for her. But as quickly as that thought came, she noticed the flames didn't burn her, they didnt hurt one bit. She felt like she was being carried quickly down, down, down, down into the earth. She thought she'd reach the other side of the earth at this point. Out of the blue, the flames stopped and instead she was falling. As she fell and screamed, she saw a city under her. A city of bright lights and busy streets.

Her attention was caught away as she noticed the floor becoming more and more closer to her. Was this the end then? Death from falling? She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for her fate. She landed flat on the ground but even from an enormous height, she only felt like she fell from a tree or a sort high place, not from like a twenty roomed high building. As she got up, bruised and battered but otherwise alright state, she looked around, wondering where she was.

She was in some dark alleyway, no one was around, she walked around trying to clear her thoughts and tried to forget the pain she was in. She saw the end of the alleyway and made her way there, she peeked her head around the corner, she heard voices. When she looked, she had a huge shock. She saw the people talking but, they weren't human, they looked like creatures and mixtures of animals and more. They talked and walked and acted like normal people but they looked beyond human. She quickly threw herself back and onto the wall near her, calming herself she looked to the sky. The sky was pitch black but there was a giant pentagram in the sky. It looked exaclty like the one those people drew on the ground.

She decided to walk herself in the opposite direction of other two who seemed to not notice her. As she continued her walk, she got to see the city more. The stores were odd and innapropriate, signs that said death, drugs and more unexpected things. The stores equally innapropriate and shocking. She'd never think she'd see such things this public, where was she?

She heard more voices nearby that got louder. Not wanting to know what these beings would do to her, she bolted away, running into another alleyway that was also dark. Maybe if she went into there, no one could see her or at least run into her. She did pass some creature people but they were either very old or asleep. She held her arms, trying to comfort herself. When she continued, she heard strange squishing and munching sounds, sounds she didn't like. But she was too curious to ignore it.

She peeked around the corner, horrified over what she saw. A tall red man stood over piles of bodies, it seems he was munching something and most definitely, it was the people he killed. Her eyes started to tear up, the sight was terrifying but she couldn't look away. She turned to see someone moving, his arms reaching out and his face screaming "I need help". Her heart dropped,seeing him like that, no matter what he looked like, he was still a living person.

She decided to help, she snuck to him as quietly as he could, looking at the tall man from time to time just incase he noticed. She reached for his arms and gently moved some body parts of other people who were on top of him. The person looked like an old man mixed with a beetle bug she would see in her yard, she liked those beetles. She pulled his arm around her head to support him with her shoulders. She lifted him up and they slowly and quietly made their way out of the area.

???: "And where do you think you're taking him?" A static voice that sounded like it was coming from a radio spoke from behind, she froze, her heart stopped, she didn't want to turn, she wanted to run but she knew the old man couldn't. What could she do? Before a thing was done, a sound of splatterd liquid, the sound of the old man screaming and his breath leaving him, the feeling of blood, covered her sides and face and seeing the old man drop to the floor in a pool of red.

He was gone, dead, he didn't move or make a sound. She stared at his lifeless body as the pool turned to a river, as the red poured down a nearby drain. She slowly turned and jumped back as the creatures face was right next to hers. She dropped to the ground and looked up. The man was tall, covered in blood but she could see he wore a suit, his hair was red, he had a cane with what looked like a microphine at the end and his face. It wore a large sickly smile that gleamed in yellow sharp teeth, his eyes were large and red as well and she could slightly see a monocle on his right eye.

He leaned down to get a better look of her, he hummed in a curious way. His staticy voice and demeanour was down right terrifying. She kept herself still for the moment but she badly wanted to run. ???: "So my dear, how did someone like you end up in place like this?". How was she supposed to answer that question? She didnt even know what "place" she was in.

Alice: "U-um I-I dont know w-what place this is exactly?". The man perked up from this, it caught his attention. ??: "Well this is hell my dear, every person from above that commits a terrible sin ends up in the world that punishes them for it". This surprised her more, hell? HELL?? She was in hell?? But how?? Why?? What??. So many questions and thoughts ran through her mind as her anxiety and fears rose from its depths. Tears started slowly flowing from her eyes, she was in hell, no wonder everything was so, strange and inappropriate and bad. This was a place where bad people went and she was there.

The man watched her sob, his eyes lowered as his smile widened. ??: "now my dear, I'll ask you again". His looks became darker as his smile widened more and his eyes fluctuating with red as symbols appeared around his body. An instensity building in the air, sending signs to her body to run. ??: "How did you end up here?". His eyes and body went static as the symbols grew, his voice dark, his posture intimidating.

This was too much, within seconds she got up and ran, ran as fast as she could, down the alley as far as she could. She turned to see his devilish smile plastered on his face in amusement. She ran faster into a full sprint, out into the streets, running past people and creatures of all shapes and sizes. They stared and watched her speedy pace. It looked like she'd never stop running until *BAM* she ran into something or someone. She tried to clear her head as it spinned uncontrollably. When she got to her senses she looked to what she ran into.

It was a person, they were on the ground as well, also trying to process the situation. She shot up, feeling really bad about it. She stood up immediately to try and help the person. Alice: "I am so sorry, I am so so sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going and I-". The person shot a glare up to her, he was a strange but unusually attractive person. He had strange hair but was covered all over in white and pink fur. He had a sharp smile with one gold tooth, his eyes were strange as well, one was black where the white should be and a pink pupil. What was also strange was he had 4 arms from what she could see.

??: "Well maybe you should watch where you going?! Crazy chick". He held his head, he must of hit it. She felt really bad and looked down with a sad look. Alice: "I'm really sorry". The person looked to her with a bit of a surprise, seeing her sincere face that was written in regret caught him off guard. ??: " Yeah, whatever". He said it in a low way while continuing to rub his head.

Alice: "Do you need help up? I can give you a hand, its the least i can do for knocking you down". The person stared at her confused, which made her confused. ??: "Eh, its fine i got it". With the help of the car beside him, he got himself up. He was a lot taller then expected and looked very feminine. If it wasn't for his voice, she would've thought he was a woman, maybe he was a transgender? She didn't know. He looked at her up and down, taking in her strange look.

He tilted his head in confusion but quickly got rid of it. ??: "So why in such a hurry toots?". She then remembered her terrifying encounter with that person and her fears came back. She looked around hoping not to see him, she didn't but she didn't want to stick around to find out. Alice: "I just was, running away from something terrifying". She held her arms as she shook from the memory. ??: "Is that why you're covered in blood?". He looked casually at the blood stains which she looked at as well, the memory of the old beetle man replayed in her mind which sent shivers down her spine.

Alice: "Y-yes, I'm gonna go now, again, really sorry for running into you, h-have a nice day". The stranger watched her walk away, still looking like she'll collapse from exhaustion or something. He really wanted to walk away from the situation but an annoying itch inside him etched the situation. ??: "Uuugh, wait there toots". Alice stopped in her tracks and looked to the person. ??: "Come here".

As he said that, he pointed to her then to his side, his lowers arms crossed as he leans against the car. Alice slowly approached him, wonderimg what he wanted. He stepped away from the car door and opened it. ??: "Get in". He directed her to get into the car, she stopped in surpsise, why did she want him to get in? Alice: "Um, why?". He rolled his eyes at her question. ??: "Just get in before I change my mind". She stepped towards the door but stopped at the entrance. Alice: "Is this your car?". He looked away, hesistant to answer.

??: "Uuuh, yeah its mine". She wasn't convinced but she'd rather be anywhere but out in the open, she entered in. When she was in he closed the door. When she looked around, she relised the car was a lot bigger then expected, like a limousine. Quite a fancy car with interesting patterns, it was quite eye catching and she sort of liked it.

As time went by and Alice waited in the car on her own, one of the doors on the other side opened. Alice expected the person she met before to come in but instead was met with two girls she's never seen before. They were deep in a conversation together which Alice dared not interrupt as they didn't notice her at all. The girl to her right looked very human, even if she could see some fangs while she talked, she was more pale then an average person but she had red spots on her cheeks, the edge of her eyes were thick with what Alice guessed was eyeliner which looked really good on her. She wore a pink suit and had beautiful golden hair. The other girl was darker skinned, maybe foreign? She didn't want to assume. She wore a short dress with knee high boots, had long white hair that covered one of her eyes that seemed to have an X on it and a cute large bowtie on the back of her hair.

These two girls have been the closest to looking like humans since she's gotten here, wonder if they could be friends. ??: "He's not gonna agree, you see how he acted and looked when you told him about it, He's probably going to prattle on to his rich friends how stupid we were". ??: "Come one Vaggie, we can't lose hope, you never know, he might change his mind, uh what do you think about it Angel?". They straight away looked to Alice who they might have thought was this Angel.

Alice jumped when they noticed her, they looked to her eyes wide and confused why some random person was in their car. ??: "Um, who are you?". The golden hair girl asked her nicely as the other one, from what she learned her name is Vaggie, got up into a defensive position, summoning a spear from nowhere. Vaggie: "WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU HERE?!!!". She pointed the spear directly into Alices' face which scared her into backing as far as she could and holding her hands up. She was scared again, this girl did seem hostile while the other was calm but she didn't think this hostile.

??: "Vaggie wait, calm down, look she's scared now". Vaggie glared at Alice with distrustful eyes which made Alice flinch. After a few seconds she lowered her spear but still stared daggers into her. The other kind girl sat her down and looked to Alice, her eyes spelling out apologise. ??: "Sorry about that, we just didn't expect someone else here besides our friend, um, I'm Charlie if you didnt know, its nice to meet you". She held out her hand for a handshake which Alice accepted, her kindness made her relaxed.

Alice: "I'm really sorry about this, I accidentally ran into someone outside, I apologized and we started talking and I needed to leave but he let me into this car which he said was his but I doubt it was although it was better then out there". Charlie looked to Alice confused while Vaggie relaxed but was still cranky for some reason. Charlie: "Why is that?". The memory of that moment resurfaced and her fears returned, her shaking started again as she also started to tear up. Meanwhile Vaggie noticed something and pointed it out to Charlie.

Charlie rushed to Alices' side, holding her hand and rubbing her back. Charlie: "Hey hey, its ok, its ok, calm down, you're ok". Charlies soft voice, gentle smile and therapeutic massaging calmed Alice down, her shaking stopped and she wiped her tears. Alice: "I'm sorry, something horrible happened and I just". She sniffled and her voice shaked as she talked, she tried to suppress it as hard as she could that worked for the most part.

Charlie gently squeezed her hand, even Vaggie came over to comfort her, probably trusting her more and more as time went. After a few minutes of silence between them as they all huddled into comforting her. She stopped her sniffles and tears and her shaky breathing and voice calmed a lot more. Charlie continued her rubbing as Vaggie placed her hand on her shoulder. Charlie: "Its ok, whatever happened is over now, you'll be ok". Alice smiled to Charlie, she was happy she met her and Vaggie, they both eased her fears and anxieties pretty well.

Charlie looked to the red stains on her body, concern covered her face. Charlie: "Are you injured at all? Because theres a lot of" Charlie pointed to the blood that Alice looked at as well. Alice: "Oh no, this isnt my blood, sorry if i got any on the seat". Charlie: "Oh don't worry about it, its not the first time bloods been on these seats". Alice was startled by how casual she said that. Alice: "Well, i should explain more on myself, um, my names Alice, I'm very knew here actually so I don't know really anything".

Charlie perked up, the news of a new person was exciting for her. She grabbed her hand with her both of hers, an excited jolt in her expression and demeanour. Charlie: "You're new? Oh that's exciting, how about you stay at our hotel? Its an amazing place for demons and sinners to find comfort and a way to be redeemed". Alice looked at her interested, demons? Is that what everyone is? It make sense if its hell, and redeemed? Can demons be redeemed? If so, is there a way she could go home?

Thinking about it, she didn't know if she could but she could try and these girls seemed nice so why not? Alice: "Sure, sounds nice although i don't have any money to pay to stay there". Its true, her money was in her phone case which she dropped before she, well, dropped. Charlie shook her head vigorously. Charlie: "Don't worry about it, its not important, you can start paying once you get yourself settled but for now, its all free". That seemed fair, even if she were to somehow leave this place, if she couldn't, there wasn't anything stopping her from settling down here, as long though as nothing like earlier will happen again.

As they continued chatting, the door swung open and of course, the person Alice ran into and who let her into the car, presumably their name being Angel, was standing right there, eating a sandwich. Angel: "Huh, so you all met, guess that means i don't need to introduce you, hey can you scooch over so I can sit?" Vaggie gave him a glare then moved to the other side of the car which Charlie then followed her after. Angel sat next to Alice who moved over to let him have some room.

Angel: "So what i miss?". Charlie smiled to Angel which Angel looked confused about. Charlie: "Oh Angel I'm so proud of you, you helped someone, Eeeee i knew you could". Charlie was all giddy and excited about this while Angel looked a bit flustered. Angel: "Whatever, was just annoyed how patheitc she looked when she walked away, ok?". Charlie gave a gentle smile while Vaggie smirked. Vaggie: "Well next time inform us when you're doing your "good deeds". Angel rolled his eyes at her comment, leaning his face on his palm while staring out the window.

Alcie: "Oh uh by the way, my names Alice, Charlie's allowed me to stay at their hotel, do you work there?". Angel looked to Alice with a smirk, amused by something. Angel: "Alice huh? The names Angel Dust and I guess you could say I work there, I'm more of their "test subject" on the whole redemption thing". Chalrie: "Don't say that Angel, you are our very important member and patron to our cause". Angel dust: "And the only free one". He giggled at his little joke but stopped as soon as he saw Vaggie stare at him with fury in her eyes.

Angel Dust: "But i also have another job, if you must know, its a pretty fun one". He said that as relaxed on the chair, folding his arms behind his head, leaning on them. Charlie: "He's an, entertainer, in a way". She said it pretty nervously which got Alice confused. Alice: "Oh yeah? what kind of entertainment?". Angel gave her a pretty smirky smile, his devious eyes looking at her. Angel dust: "It means i suck d***". This shocked Alice into chocking on her spit, making her cough profusley.

Angel Dust: "I'm lucky enough to never choke when I'm doing it though". Alice continued to cough before calming herself. Charlie went over to try and help. Charlie: "Angel". Angel Dust: "What? She asked what I do for a job and i answered her, what else was I suppose to say?". Angel got all defensive as Charlie looked to him in a doubtful look. Charlie something other then that". As this was happening, the car had already almost made it to the hotel.

When it did, Alice stepped out in awe at the hotels unique and extraordinary form. The ship on the side was a shock, the inconsistent shapes and sizes of each few floors was incredible. She wondered how many stayed in this magnificent place, it could fit hundreds maybe thousands of guests. She was quite excited to go inside.