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rustonyourfingers · 29 days ago

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I was wondering if I wanted to share my thoughts on season 2 and the final act here, or rather my criticism of season 2, and I guess I'm doing this.

I want to start this post by saying -- if you loved s2 and don't want to read any criticism of it, just don't read this post. While I loved the show overall, and the season as well (the animation was especially beautiful, they made something even more stunning than s1 and I didn't think it possible), I have many issues with it as well, which I'll be discussing in this post.

So, without further ado

ARCANE SEASON 2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

I wanted to start with my biggest issue -- and that is the conflict of Piltover and Zaun and how it was resolved.

Since the very beginning of s1, class issues and class discrimination were one of the main subjects in Arcane -- we literally start the show by seeing how the rebellion of Zaun against Piltover fails. The treatment of Zaunites is what pushes the plot forward -- and if Piltover and Zaun were not in conflict, there would be no story and no Arcane.

Act 1 of season 2 started very promising in that regard -- we get to see how Caitlyn's privilege allows her to use her grief against Zaun and gas the entire undercity with no repercussions, just under the excuse of finding one criminal. The law is on Caitlyn's side -- she is a Kiramman after all, her name means so much in Piltover. We are shown in those first three episodes that no matter the losses that Zaunites experience, they will always be seen as the aggressors in the eyes of Piltover and the law that Piltover dictates. After all, the chem-baroness Renni attacked the memorial to get revenge for her son who was killed by one of the councilors -- a councilor who, let's not forget, didn't face any repercussions for attacking that factory and killing that boy, and didn't lose his title either. Where I'm going with this is -- in the eyes of Zaunites this would very much mean that the council stands by Jayce and his actions, which makes the crime Jayce committed no longer a crime in the eyes of the law -- and if a councilor can crash onto their streets and kill innocent children without any repercussions, then how are they supposed to ever feel like they'll get justice when something like this will happen again?

Then Caitlyn comes in, gassing the streets (and before someone says "she only targeted certain locations where the gangs were hanging out" -- a) we see civilians running away from it, b) it's a gas, it's going to spread out and innocent people will get affected, and we see how dangerous it is in the montage at the beginning of ep3). Caitlyn who is an Enforcer, and is doing all of this with the council's approval. It paints a very grim picture for Zaun -- Piltover can retaliate for any crime committed against it, but Zaun can do nothing, no matter how badly they're treated. They can rebel, but they don't have the fire-power and technology that Piltover has. They are treated like animals and have no one to turn to.

This issue has been built up over the course of 13 episodes -- 13 EPISODES, only to be brushed aside because the bigger bad entered the scene and now despite all the conflict and hatred between them, Piltover and Zaun have to join forces to fight against it and save themselves.

I don't hate that -- the fact that Piltover and Zaun joined forces to survive, it makes perfect sense. What I hate is that, after all that build-up, we get no resolution to this conflict. What we get instead is -- Sevika joining the council, the burning paper ceremony, and that's it. A several-minute-long montage to resolve the conflict that was central to the narrative for more than 13 episodes. That's not a satisfying ending to a conflict this huge. Not even close. To me, it felt a little bit like a slap in the face -- did everyone forget how serious the situation between Piltover and Zaun was? Zaunites sure as hell wouldn't forget; Sevika, Ekko, the Firelights wouldn't forget how they were treated like animals and caged, sent to prison just because they dared to oppose Piltover.

The fact that the ending is narrated by Caitlyn only makes it worse. What do you mean the person responsible for half the shit that Zaunites went through in ep3 and act 2 is narrating this? What message does it send? Definitely not one of unity -- more like Piltover winning once again and dictating Zaun's fate once again.

I don't know why this decision was made -- but it feels incredibly disrespectful to the storyline of conflict between the two cities and the oppression Zaunites experienced by the hand of Pilties.

Now, onto my other point -- Caitlyn Kiramman and how her arc was butchered in the two final acts. Once again -- I loved how her arc was set up in act 1 and was excited to see how it would develop. I wanted to see how Caitlyn would redeem herself after everything she did in act 1 and all the hatred she's shown towards Zaunites, and also see her finally get over her prejudice. Because since s1ep1 Caitlyn was established as a character with a lot of prejudice towards the Undercity and its people that she never fully resolved in s1. Her falling into her hatred after Jinx killed her mother was perfect -- a way to show how easy it was to fall back into beliefs she was taught since she was a kid after a personal tragedy befell her, and how easy it was to disregard the awful conditions people in Zaun faced and hide behind her resentment. I was expecting to see her realize how wrong she was for what she did and understand how her prejudice condemned so many innocent people; maybe she would figure out the attack on the memorial was Ambessa's idea to help her seize the power in Piltover? Maybe she would see corpses of other mothers, of sisters, aunts, fathers, brothers, and realize that her grief was not an excuse to bring that same suffering onto hundreds of others?

I wanted anything. I got nothing.

We start episode 4 with Caitlyn already doubting everything she did. There's no reason for it, no explanation -- just magically Caitlyn is back on her "why is peace always the justification for violence?" shit and any realization she might've had happened behind the scenes. There are no repercussions for what she did in act 1, there isn't even a discussion of the crimes she committed -- because she committed WAR CRIMES while she was the one holding power!! That's a huge issue, and it has been completely overlooked, and once again people of the Undercity don't get any justice for what was done to them.

I am expected to believe that Caitlyn changed, but I have no proof to support that notion, because it happened BEHIND THE SCENES. That's not good writing. That's the opposite of good writing and the worst part is that it doesn't end there.

No, her reunion with Vi was just as disappointing -- but I wasn't mad about how their reunion in ep6 specifically went, it made sense for Vi to be so desperate and focused on getting Vander back that everything Caitlyn did wasn't addressed. But I hoped for something in act 3 -- and that short argument in ep8 was not it. Once again, Caitlyn's actions were swept under the rug, and her conflict with Vi was not resolved. And I know that a lot of people will hate what I'm about to say -- but I don;t care about the sex scene and them being together at the end. I don't care about CaitVi in general at this point -- and it breaks my heart, because I loved the idea of them in s1 and the potential they had, but the way Caitlyn's character was handled completely killed any excitement and interest I had in these two.

CaitVi could've been a great lesbian representation and a relationship that tackled all the class issues that were introduced in this show -- but instead, we got this. Caitlyn getting a happy ending doesn't feel deserved, because none of her crimes were ever addressed! Caitlyn getting the ending she got doesn't feel satisfying because none of the changes her character went through were shown on screen! All this ending does is really further drive the point of just how privileged Caitlyn is -- even when the whole world burned down, even when most people lost everything, she still got her love interest.

I don't think I was ever more disappointed in a ship than this one. The fact that we got a show with a lesbian couple being the main couple, and then it got butchered like this breaks my heart. This is not a win for me -- it's a loss that I'll find super hard to get over.

On the topic of couples -- the only couple that got worse treatment than CaitVi was Jayce and Mel -- because what the hell was that?? Genuinely, if JayVik saving the world from the hexcore together was always the end goal, why introduce MelJay at all? Why not give them a break-up at the beginning of the season, or even in ep8 when they meet again, so that the transition to Jayce and Viktor saving the world together wouldn't come at the expense of Mel and her dynamic with Jayce? Because their relationship never got a proper ending either -- they meet again, Jayce throws a bunch of accusations at Mel (most of which Mel even can't defend herself, because she literally didn't know about her powers), and then they fight Viktor's puppet soldier, and then there's the apology and "you'll never be a passenger", then the council meeting, the end.

We are talking about the relationship that very much shaped the situation between Piltover and Zaun in s1. Mel and Jayce were so important to the plot and the direction it took in s1, and yet they were separated from the beginning of s2 with no resolution whatsoever. Jayce says "we're meant to lose this fight" and there's no scene of him and Mel after that? No goodbye, no "good luck, you got this", nothing? What? Am I missing something? What happened?

I would've taken anything -- because Mel's character deserved better treatment than what she got. And let's be real -- there's a lot of misogyny and racism in fandoms, and there's plenty of people who already were hating on Mel for standing between JayVik after season 1; so why give them even more ammunition to hate on Mel instead of giving us some resolution to this relationship? Why not give Mel any closure before Jayce inevitably disappears? I don't know, I found the way they handled MelJay so weird and disappointing, but given how CaitVi was handled, I shouldn't be surprised.

I've gonna admit -- I'm very salty about this particular couple because it's always the woc girlies that are treated like that in media and it makes me wanna scream. Mel deserved better! Mel deserved to kiss women first of all (Sevika and Lest Sevika and Lest Sevika and Lest), but also deserved for her romance plot-line to get a proper ending!!!

On the topic of Mel -- I wish that her story with the Black Rose had more time to be properly explored, especially on topic of Mel's powers. We don't get much info on what happened between Ambessa, Kino and the Black Rose, we don't get much info on Mel's birth and her powers. I wouldn't even say that I have an issue with how this particular plotline was handled -- I just wish they gave it more space to grow and for us to learn more about it as well.

Now, Ekko -- my dear, my darling, best boy of Arcane. What happened to his tree? Was it salvaged by getting rid of the hexcore? After all that Ekko went through, after all the Firelights went through, I just wanted to know if their tree survived. I wanted closure.

Another thing that really bothered me is that we didn't get any Ekko and Vi scenes at all, except for the fight in ep9. Once again, what happened? I didn't mind them not interacting in act 1, even when I felt it was weird Vi didn't try to find Ekko since the last she saw him was on the bridge -- but I thought, for sure we'll get some moments with these two later in the season. And we didn't.

I'm not gonna sit here and say it isn't disappointing -- because it is very disappointing, especially when at the end of the season Ekko is all alone and his arc ends with nothing but grief and tragedy. He lost Jinx after he finally connected with her, he lost Heimerdinger and watched him sacrifice himself for Ekko. Why is he alone at the end? Why not show the tree, the Firelights consoling him, anything? Why couldn't we get Vi and Ekko grieving Jinx together, being the brother and sister they once were to one another?

For a story that was very much about found family and how blood isn't what makes one's family, there was very little of it left at the end of the season.

Because Ekko and Vi are not the only childhood friendship that was lost in the show -- Jayce and Caitlyn are also the victims of that. We get one scene of the two in ep1 and then -- nothing. We don't see Caitlyn wonder what happened to Jayce, we don't see her reaction to seeing Jayce back. We don't see Jayce's reaction to Caitlyn being a general either -- but I guess, in the end, with how Jayce&Mel and Caitlyn-in-general were written, this was just a minor issue I had and one I could've easily ignored if other, more plot-related relationships of these two were better written. (And they weren't, so I'm not ignoring it.)

And this brings me to my last point -- Vi and grief, or lack thereof.

I'm gonna admit -- I am torn when it comes to Vi, because while I loved what I got this season, I also feel like she was done dirty by the narrative (although not nearly as much as Caitlyn in my opinion).

I already mentioned the lack of Ekko&Vi content -- but I feel like in general the topic of her trauma, her dilemmas, the way she deals with the "silco didn't create jinx. you did" issue could have been explored way more in-depth. It's hard for me to feel fully satisfied with her character arc, when I feel like the topic of her mental health was brushed aside in act 3 nearly entirely. I loved act 2 Vi -- all the trauma, sadness, anger, and desperation to go back in time and fix things, it was all so good and gave us such a clear image of who she was and how young she still was, how all the trauma she went through froze her in time in a way and it all started to spill out of her when she saw Vander. But act 3? Next to nothing again. I think I lack the words to properly explain why that bothers me so much -- because I feel like in the end Vi's character was reduced to her romantic plot-line (a very unsatisfying romantic plot-line at that) and little else. She was older-sister-fied -- a character who will always be placed in the role of the fighter, protector, caregiver, but never the victim, not truly, not in a way that allows her to feel all her grief and work through it.

Because in two seasons of Arcane, Vi never got to grieve. I'll never understand why she wasn't shown grieving Jinx in any way -- her and Ekko having a moment together would be perfect here, because they both loved her and tried to help her! They were a family once! They could support each other in a way they couldn't the first time around, when Vander and Benzo died; it would've been such a beautiful ending to their realtionship we see on screen as well: we didn't get to be here for one another the first time, but we are now. We can be a family now.

I wish we got a proper grieving scene before Vi humming that song -- because while I love how we start and end the show with the same song, first hummed by Powder, now by Vi, it still doesn't feel like a satisfying ending.

LET VI GRIEVE! I BEG YOU!

Now, to bring it all together -- I think that this show suffered for the lack of time to properly explore all the topics they introduced. I don't know who decided for s2 to be the final season, if maybe the initial plan was to have more episodes and later was cut down to one more season, and that's why a lot of the things were brushed aside. I really wish the creators had given themselves more time -- if not another season, then at least three more episodes to resolve the Piltover/Zaun conflict, to show us Caitlyn's change between act 1 and 2, to let Vi grieve her sister and father, to let Ekko grieve Jinx and Heimer and see his tree grow healthy once more, to have a resolution between Mel and Jayce. The amount of material we had here, in this season, was too much to tackle in just nine episodes -- and while I love what we got, and there are so many moments in this season that I'll treasure forever, I can't say that I'm satisfied with the ending. It breaks my heart a little, because this show has a special place in my heart, but it is what it is. Done. Too late to change that.

That being said -- I still consider Arcane to be one of the best pieces of media I have ever had the pleasure of watching. The animation is out of this world, the music is so incredibly beautiful, the actors ate, there are so many characters with wonderful stories and arcs, and I'm happy that I could watch a show like this. I'm glad a show like Arcane exists and I hope it'll pave the way for more similar shows, with amazing and diverse casts, so heartbreaking that they make you cry in every episode.

This was a wonderful journey and I'm sad to see it end, but I'm happy that I could be here for it.

#arcane season 2 #arcane s2 spoilers #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane caitlyn #arcane vi #arcane ekko #arcane mel #arcane jayce #arcane jinx #arcane critical

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shion-yu · 10 months ago

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Taco Fiesta 2.0

Quick story for fun ft. @wussifer's OC Jack and my boy Cliff who are actual soulmates in another life <3 Based on this. 1,287 words, CW: food poisoning, emeto, mucho fluff.

Jack's love for questionably safe street food had gotten him in trouble more than once over the years. Cliff kept telling him to stay away from those stands but Jack's memory seemed only to last a few months before he took the plunge again. This time is was "Phil's Philly Steaks" and Jack thought the name was way too funny to pass up trying.

Cliff groaned and tried to tug him along. "Jack, please, Leo's got dinner at home waiting for us," he tried, but it was hopeless. The call of street meat with a terrible pun was all too powerful.

"It's fine," Jack said casually as he handed over a wad of ones. "I have a different stomach for this kind of thing."

"You do not," Cliff rolled his eyes. "Just don't come to me when it's 'Got Taco to the Fiesta' 2.0, alright?"

"Sure, baby," Jack said cheerfully, accepting the giant paper plate overflowing with steaming Philly steak that he was handed. "Thanks man," he told the vendor and Cliff followed behind him to a nearby bench.

Cliff looked at Jack's purchase with distaste. "That looks like brains," he said.

Jack took a big bite and hummed with satisfaction. "Delicious brains though. Wanna try?"

"Absolutely not," Cliff said, pushing the forkful Jack was holding up away and sticking out his tongue. He waited as Jack miraculously devoured the entire meal and threw away the plate with a satisfied burp. "You're so gross," Cliff whined as Jack laughed and appologized.

They took the train back home and made it to Leo's apartment without further incident. Jack's belly was sticking out a bit but true to his word, he managed to shove down a whole plate of dinner made by Leo, too. Cliff had no idea how his boyfriend had such a bottomless appetite but he figured at least Jack was eating enough for the both of them, given Cliff no longer ate my mouth. After dinner they went to Jack's room where Jack sat at his desk to study and Cliff watched videos on bed.

Jack was still studying when Cliff got sleepy and turned in for the night. "Night Jackie," he said. Jack blew him a kiss and looked fondly at his little family on bed, made up of Cliff, one cat in his arms and one dog at his feet. He had about fifty of the same exact picture but he couldn't help but snap another one with his phone, they were just so cute.

Around eleven, Jack's stomach started rumbling loudly. He rubbed it and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He had definitely eaten too much today, but it'd go down soon enough. Except an hour later, it certainly hadn't gone down and Jack felt even more bloated than before. He groaned and stood up, thinking maybe walking around would help. Did they have Tums in the bathroom? Jack located then and chewed two of the tablets. The chalky taste did the opposite of make him feel better and he realized very quickly that he was feeling nauseous.

It was just too much food, he told himself. No way this was the tacos from three months ago 2.0. He hit his chest with his fist a few times and let out a loud belch that made his eyes water. He glanced at Cliff but his boyfriend was still sleeping soundly. The dog, however, was staring at him in startled disdain.

"Sorry Sabi," Jack said, rubbing his aching stomach. Sabi sniffed as if he understood and rested his head back down on Cliff's legs.

Jack tried to go back to studying, but his stomach was really burning now and it felt like the words he was attempting to read were running all over the page. He had begun to sweat and groaned, pushing his chair away from the desk and pressing his forehead on the edge. He tried to breathe through the nausea but one thought about the neon yellow cheese sauce on that cheese steak today put him over the edge and he made a mad dash for the bathroom.

It was an absurd amount of food to have eaten, and it felt absurd coming back up. Jack threw up wave after wave of chunky, smelly vomit and swore to himself for probably the twentieth time that he'd listen to Cliff about the street food next time. After a few minutes it seemed like he was empty, and the dizziness was gone. Jack flushed the toilet and stood on shaky legs to wash his face and hands in the sink. He listened, but Leo's bedroom was too far away to hear and Cliff seemed to have manage to sleep through it despite the occasional very loud moan that had come out of him.

Jack returned to the desk in his room, hoping that was it. Going back to studying turned out to be a no go though and Jack gave up quickly, crawling into bed next to Cliff and resting his head on Cliff's chest. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The attempt lasted about fifteen minutes before Jack was launching himself back into the bathroom for round two. That solidified it - it wasn't just overeating and Phil's Philly Steak was most certainly the culprit. Jack threw up until there really wasn't anything left but stomach acid. It took him another ten minutes to gather the strength to stand up and wash up again, spraying some air freshener on his way out to mask the putrid smelling combo of fry oil mixed with puke.

Jack stumbled back to bed and lay down, clutching his stomach with a loud groan. Cliff didn't look so cute asleep anymore. He looked annoyingly peaceful while Jack was going through cheese steak purgatory. Jack shook his shoulder, whining. "Cli-ifffff."

Cliff twitched and opened his eyes, squinting at Jack cluelessly. "What?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"I threw up," Jack said pathetically.

"Oh, sorry baby," Cliff mumbled, reaching for Jack and pulling him close. "Do you... need... Zzzz." Aaaaand he was asleep again. Jack sighed and cuddled against Cliff anyways. Cliff tended to be fairly useless between the hours of ten PM and eight AM unless Jack really set off the alarms, but he wasn't going to do that for another round of food poisoning by stupidity.

"Thanks Cliff, you're so comforting," Jack muttered. Cliff's arms did feel nice though, and before Jack knew it his eyes had begun to sag closed. "Love you," he said.

The next morning there'd be plenty of time for scolding and then coddling and rubbing Jack's back as he threw up again. But at least until morning, the two of them managed to sleep - one much deaper than the other.

"You should've woke me up," Cliff said the next morning while serving Jack plain toast in bed, hoping it would ease Jack's stomach cramps.

"I did," Jack said.

"Really?" Cliff asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face. "Sorry. I don't remember."

"It's okay," Jack said. "I'll forgive you if you make me a good Philly cheese steak at home."

Cliff made a face of disbelief. "Jack, you cannot seriously want to eat right now," he said.

"Not now! Later. To erase the taste of the poisonous version from my memory," Jack said.

Cliff shook his head. "Maybe you should try and remember the poisonous one next time you want street food," Cliff said. But then Jack gave him such kicked puppy dog eyes that he added, "Okay, I'll do it, just listen to me next time, please?"

Jack grinned, gave Cliff innocent doe eyes and said with an incredible amount of confidence, "I always listen to you!"

#shionwrites #cliff sorta came out as a nagging housewife here but oh well #these two are my loves #other people's ocs #oc: cliff #sickfic #sicknario #emeto #overeating #food poisoning #illness whump #tw: vomit #sick whump #cliff and jack

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420thewritersroom · 10 months ago

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Deadly Sakura (Part 2)

*trips onto this blog with this* hey ya'll how you doing :D

It's been a minute and I finally feel confident enough to bring this out! This has been sitting in my drafts for a LONG ASS while, like goddamn. I'm been slowly working on this and I feel like this is complete enough where I'm comfortable sharing the next half of this story. It will take another while before the next chapter is shown because one, I've been getting real acquainted with an old game from my childhoood and got the inspiration to write about it, and two, I just really need to take my time.

I realized that I made a mistake jumping onto this and making this into a series because I don't have a concrete blueprint of where I want to take this story. I hyped myself up, being pretty new to this fandom and making fanwork for an establish fandom got me a bit anxious. I found myself feeling guilty for not being able to pump out more chapters and I want to get out of that mindset. That's why I've been working on another, personal, project that I can't wait to show you guys sometime soon. I've been telling myself that it's ok if you loose interest for a while, the inspiration will come back to you as long as you keep the drafts.

But enough about me, here's the part 2 of Deadly Sakura! I'll post this on AO3 tomorrow because I'm lazy.

~Try as Liu Kang might, some circumstances are inevitable. Kung Lao has perished under the hands of Earthrealms enemies, leaving everyone to mourn the loss of his untimely departure. And some took his death harder than most. Raiden nearly became the very thing Liu Kang feared he would become, and out of wounded grief, opted to remove his memories and leave Earthrealm partially unprotected as he disbanded his warriors. Yet, something darker is rearing its head, and soon, Earthrealm and the realms beyond will need the help of Liu Kang's champions and some unexpected heroes. Especially when an old friend (and foe) comes back to say hello~

Characters: Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Jax, Raiden, Kung Lao, Fuji

Word Count: 9,652

Ships: Kenshi/Johnny Cage & Raiden/Kung Lao

Previous // Next

Wilted Cherry Blossoms, Dark Thunderstorms, Burning Hopes: Remastered

Kenshi bursts through the fire exit door, leading him and Johnny to the back alleyway and away from public notice. Kenshi quickly dials Jax's number, muttering to himself for his partner to pick up the phone (and doing his best to ignore Johnny's constant questioning).

Finally, the familiar voice of Briggs on the other line gives Kenshi a sliver of hope that they might be able to escape this soon.

"Kenshi! Where the hell are you? I told you we'd meet 5 minutes ago; what's holding you up?"

"Jackson, we got company and need to get to China. How long for you to get to my location?" Kenshi hurriedly says as he pulls Johnny with him down the alleyway.

"Company? What kind of 'company'?"

"The kind that looks pale and dead."

"And breaks into other peoples' private property!" Johnny unceremoniously chimes in, getting a hissing scold from Kenshi in response.

"Hold up, do you have someone with you, Kenshi?"

"I don't have time to explain! Just meet me at the garage near the Starbucks on 114th Street!" Kenshi then disconnects the call, not wanting Johnny or Jax to further interact; even though it's going to become inevitable soon.

"Whoa there, You still gotta tell me what this is all about too!" Johnny insisted as he caught up with Kenshi. "Who was that guy, and what's going on?"

"Once we randevu with my associate, then we'll talk."

"And this 'associate' fellow is?"

"I'm more concerned about getting out of here than answering questions right now, Johnny."

Kenshi feels Johnny grab his wrist and force the swordsman to face him. "Johnathan now's not-"

"Then make time, Kenshi! At least give me the SparkNotes version of what's going on!" Johnny growls as he tightens his grip around Kenshi's wrist.

Kenshi feels his spine tingle, hearing Johnny growl his name. While he does make a mental note of that (for later), he readjusts his thinking back to the matter at hand. Kenshi never really came forward with his line of work with Johnny; he wasn't sure if he could trust the Hollywood actor to keep his mouth shut and not brag about dating an FBI agent.

The swordsman sighs, finally relenting to Johnny's request, "A month ago, when I was in Japan, I was tracking down a notorious gang known as the Jeido taigā bando, Jade Tiger Band in English. I was helping my associate track them down because he suspected that they were associated with…A far more dangerous crime organization."

"Let me guess, you pissed off the wrong guy, and now they're sending their goons to come after you, right?" Johnny huffs, acting as though he's heard this story before.

"Not really. To keep the story short, what I found when I discovered their base of operations was individuals who I can only classify as…Undead…And they're planning on expanding their ranks by digging up more bodies or adding to the body count for them to raise."

Johnny gives Kenshi a look, letting go of his wrist and crossing his arms. "Ok, so we're dealing with some Night of the Living Dead invasion-type shit? Does Bruce Kang know about this?"

"Not yet. Contacting Liu Kang gets difficult every day that passes, even with Geras serving as his line operator. I was going to report my findings to my associate-"

"It's ok, you can call him Jackson." Johnny was already getting slightly annoyed by the avoidance of names here.

If Kenshi still had eyes, he'd roll them to the back of his skull, "I need to get to him and report what I discovered. Afterwards, I'm going to Liu Kang personally."

"Why not go to Liu right now? A possible zombie invasion sounds like something that should be brought to his attention as soon as possible."

"I still have my obligations to my work, Johnny." Kenshi sighs.

"Work that you still haven't explained to me, Kenshi."

"Later. Let's just meet Jackson before that body catches up with us."

"A little late for that," Johnny looks down the alleyway in the direction of the fire exit they escaped from.

Standing at the far end of the alleyway, the undead creature they fought earlier and sent 200 ft back to the lobby glares their red eyes at the pair.

"Fuck me," Kenshi says, exasperated.

Almost on cue, the undead creature rushes at the duo, Johnny and Kenshi getting into a fighting stance. Once the creature was halfway to their position, Johnny was the first to meet them and threw a punch at them. Kenshi draws out Sento and helps Johnny, partaking in the back and forth between them and the monster.

The creature manages to grab at Johnny, clutching his throat in a death grip, before throwing him at Kenshi. Had they been the rivals they were before, Kenshi would've let Johnny fall. And perhaps he should've let Johnny fall, for his attempt to catch Johnny stumbles him in return. The undead creature lunges for Kenshi, their sharp claws countered thanks to Sento's protection. Kenshi quickly gets Johnny back on his feet and grabs the floating hilt of his sword, reengaging with the monster as he puts distance between them and Johnny, giving the actor a moment to recover.

The sounds of steel and hardened claws clashing together fill the air as Kenshi fights off the undead creature. Kenshi misses the monster feinting him, screaming when he feels its claws dig deep into his skin as it slashes him across his midsection. Johnny comes up behind the undead creature, round house kicking them in the head and sending them to the ground.

"Kenshi!" Johnny attempts to help the wounded Kenshi, only to feel an arm wrap around their neck, stopping him in his tracks.

Johnny grunts as he tries to prevent the undead creature from choking him out-or worse-snapping his neck. The creature's breath can be felt on the side of his face as they darkly chuckle, "You can join your crippled friend with our family if you're that desperate to join him."

Johnny can feel his consciousness slipping, the bastard's grip on him too powerful for him to overcome. Before going under, Johnny's ears ring as he hears the creature holler in pain. In his peripherals, Johnny can see the mystical blade of Sento breaching through the monster's head, right where their left eyeball resided. Johnny uses this time to escape, coughing as he recovers.

Kenshi removes Sento from the creature's head, leaving a slitted hole where the katana once resided. Gathering his strength and swift movements, Kenshi goes for the head again, scalping the creature before jabbing Sento into its brain, the steel running through the organ and the rest of its body before settling within the undead monstrosity's ribcage. Finally, their current nightmare ends as the creature goes limp once again. Removing Sento, Kenshi lets the body flop to the ground, stepping his foot on their neck and ready to behead the monster if it so much as moved another inch.

…It doesn't move.

Kenshi hisses as his still bleeding wound catches up with him, the adrenaline coming down. He leans against the stonewalls that make up the alleyway, breathing heavily as he continues to lose blood.

"Kenshi. Whoa, easy there, I got ya!" Johnny steps to Kenshi's side, holding him up and allowing Kenshi to put his weight on him. Johnny makes a hissing whistle sound as he helps Kenshi trudge through the alleyway, "They cut ya up pretty good. You think you'll make it to that Starbucks?"

"I'll be," Kenshi huffs between words, "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, you sound 'fine,'" Johnny half-heartedly jests as they get closer to reaching the main streets. Which only worries Johnny further. With an injured Kenshi, his stardom, and it's still light outside, there will be eyes on them, whether they like it or not. "Ok, Kenshi, Imma need you to pick up your feet once we get out there. The sooner we get to your associate, the better."

Getting into the crowd, the pair make their way through the moving bodies, trying to give as little reason for anyone to take notice of them. Every wayward glance gave Johnny a spike of anxiety as he prayed and hoped that no one would immediately recognize him, even with his rise to popularity as a director. Before they both knew it, they reached their destination. Johnny glanced around, looking for anyone who might be expecting someone.

"Come on, where are they? Hey, Kenshi, what does this Jackson guy look like?"

"Don't need to look far, Mr. Cage."

Johnny twists his head, only to be faced by a tall, perhaps a couple cm off Johnny), dark-skinned individual. "You must be Jackson, right?"

"Right. What happened to him?" Jackson nodded over to Kenshi as he guided them to his vehicle. "Place him in the back; I got a first aid kit he can use."

"We had some company slow us down," Johnny opens the back car door, helping Kenshi into the car before helping himself to riding shotgun.

Kenshi didn't need to ask where Jackson kept his first aid kit, always in a hidden compartment inside the middle seat. He takes out all the necessary items to thread himself back together, though the work was slightly sloppy thanks to the moving vehicle.

"So, when were you going to tell me you were close to a Hollywood star?"

"What? So that you can pester me for an autograph?" Kenshi hisses as he runs the needle and thread through his skin.

"Aw, Kenshi. To deprive a fan of mine a chance to have a personal trinket with my name on it from yours truly is the most heinous thing of you to do," Johnny voiced.

"And I'm certain there's a special place in Hell for me for that." Kenshi jests back with Johnny before adjusting his mind to the reason he needed to speak with Jackson to begin with. "I found the Jade Tiger Band. They were all dead when I discovered where they were headquartered."

"Dead? All of them?" Jackson's eyebrows raise as he occasionally glances at Kenshi's reflection in the rearview mirror.

"All that remained of them was bodies. But…There are more concerning things about this situation. I saw the cargo with the Black Dragon's symbol printed on them, so they were in legion with the organization. How deep, I don't know. But while there, when I discovered the bodies, the building was almost repurposed in a…cult-like fashion. I saw, firsthand, bodies being given life, under the control of some puppet master."

If it wasn't for the fact that Jackson not only worked for the FBI but also the OIA, Kenshi's certain that everything that he just said would have him laughed out of the vehicle or into a mental institute. There's a moment of silence as Jackson takes a moment to process what Kenshi relayed.

"This job just gets stranger and stranger. Do you think the Black Dragon is behind these…Bodies coming back from the dead?"

"I don't think so, Jax. The attire these individuals wore was not Black Dragon material. Then again, the Black Dragons are not known for being uniformed. But the many times we tailed them, sorcery was never on their resume." Kenshi groans his final sentence as he starts wrapping himself up in cloth and medical alcohol.

"Do you think that sorcerer fella might be involved?" Jax questions.

"Shang Tsung?" Johnny chimes in.

"You know him?" Jax gives Johnny a quick look.

"Oh, not only do I know him, but Kenshi and I beat that bastard into prison and saved the world from a universe collapse. How else do you think I got the inspiration for MORTAL KOMBAT: CHAMPIONS OF TIME?"

Thanks to the fact that they stopped at a long red light, Jackson couldn't help but look at Johnny & Kenshi in disbelief. This isn't the first time Jax has had this revelation given to him, how else would the Outworld Investigation Agency exist if not for him?

"You know, if it weren't for Kenshi breaking the news to me before about your involvement in this whole…Circus fuckery, I wouldn't have believed that YOU, Mr. Cage, experienced this crazy shit first hand."

"Please, you can call me Johnny. No need for formalities."

"Back to the matter at hand," Kenshi interjects. "I believe that Shang Tsung might be behind this entire operation. I don't think he's working closely with the Black Dragon, but I wouldn't be surprised if they somehow got into contact with one another."

"And what makes you think that Shang Tsung might be involved?" Johnny takes his turn to look in the backseat where Kenshi sat.

"The magic used to bring these creatures back looked similar to how Shang utilizes his own sorcery. That, and it was green. And aside from Quan Chi, I don't know anyone else whose magic gives off a green color." Kenshi explains.

"Wait, who's Quan-"

"I'll tell you about him later, Jax." Kenshi interrupts. "Right now, there's a possible chance that Shang Tsung is causing dead people to come back from the grave, and the Black Dragon is possibly involved."

"Well, we can't work on chances and possibilities. If they're truly operating together, we're going to need concrete proof. People coming back from the dead might not be enough to get the higher-ups to look deeper into this, especially since they're still wrapping their heads around what is and is not possible with these supernatural occurrences." said Jax.

At this point, they arrived at a discreet enough motel, Jax pulling the vehicle into an available parking space under a shaded tree.

"I know, But maybe this will be enough to prove my suspicions. The Jeido Taigā may have been compromised and most of their members dead, but I was able to pinpoint where their next point of operation may be. Got it off a dying Taigā and convinced them I was one of them. They're right in our front yard, hoping to make a transaction somewhere in San Jose."

"Well, what a coincidence, because our inside gal reported to us not too long ago about a trade happening in San Jose, right in an abandoned warehouse," Jax smirks as he trains his eyes back at Kenshi through the rearview mirror.

"Great! Then all we gotta do is bust the bad guys, kick Shang Tsungs ass, and the day is saved!" Johnny rubs his hands in anticipation.

“Um, I’m sorry, ‘we’?” Jax gives Johnny a look.

“Johnny, can we talk for a minute?” Kenshi gives Johnny’s shoulder a firm squeeze before exiting the car, hissing in pain as his freshly patched-up wounds send signals of pain to him.

“Oh, boy, here we go,” Johnny mumbles, exiting the car with Kenshi.

Jax follows suit, closing the driver's door. “I already got us a room, when you need to sit it out for a minute,” Jax gestures to Kenshi and where his wound was, “We’re in room 118.”

Kenshi nods as he walks closer to the tree that provided them shade from the beaming sun above. He crosses his arms, looking directly in the direction where Johnny is.

“Ok, what did I do?”

“Nothing, Johnny.”

“Ok, but you’re giving me your ‘serious Kenshi’ face. You look like this, right now,” in which Johnny gives Kenshi an overly exaggerated pouty look.

Unfortunately, for Johnny, Kenshi wasn’t in the mood to entertain the actor. “You’re not coming with us.”

“What? Why not? Didn’t you just say that Shang Tsung could be behind this weird Undead invasion thing? That silver-tongued bastard is my business too, Kenshi.”

“I said no, Johnny.”

“Is this because I renounced my standing as one of Earthrealm's protectors?”

“No, Johnny, I-”

“Because if it is, I now renounce my renouncement as one of Earthrealm's protectors. I can help Kenshi, anything involving Shang Tsung is bad news, and I’d be damned if-”

“This isn’t about that, it’s something completely different.” Kenshi can already feel his annoyance with Cage brewing.

“How different is this? Didn’t Liu Kang set you up with this job?”

“No, he didn’t. Why do you think I need to get to China?”

“Wait, then what’s this all about if Liu Kang doesn’t know about this?” Johnny looks at Kenshi confused.

At this point, Kenshi just had enough. He prays to whoever would listen that Johnny wouldn’t make such a fuss about this and pulls his boyfriend closer. Then and there, Kenshi finally came forward about his association with the FBI and OIA (Outer World Investigation Agency) to Johnny. He still left some details out, only giving the essentials of what his job entailed. Johnny looks at Kenshi amazed before a huge smile crosses his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned! I didn’t know I had 007 as a boyfriend as well.”

“Johnathan, this is serious!”

“Kenshi, don’t worry! I’m not going to tell, I’m not that irresponsible. Even I have secrets I prefer others didn’t know too. Plus, I’m an actor, my secrets are all I have now.” Johnny gives Kenshi a reassuring peck on the cheek to prove his loyalty.

“I mean it, Cage.” Kenshi huffs, though the bubbling tension does soothe inside him.

“Cross my heart, hope to die, you can stick Sento in my eye if I so much as even BREATHE about you being FBI.” Johnny places one final reassuring kiss, this time on Kenshi’s temple, before squeezing the swordsman closer to him.

As stern as Kenshi tries to make himself look, he can’t help but twitch a smile here and there. Johnny always knew how to break his tough guy visage.

“So, now that the beans have been spilled, that means I can help, ri-”

Immediately, Kenshi frowns again, “No.”

“Wha-come on!” Johnny complains, his tone a bit too loud.

“Even if I wanted to bring you along, your face will get us into trouble. You’re an actor for crying out loud, and a recognizable one too. And I can’t just thrust you into my job. By all standards, you’re a civilian and not authorized to meddle in FBI business, doesn’t matter if you fought creatures from Outworld or in Orderrealm. I can’t just bring you along, Johnathan.”

Johnny opens and closes his mouth as if to protest further, but he can only groan. “Ok, fine, but if Shang Tsung is really behind this, hell, a possible zombie apocalypse should be enough to warrant Liu Kang’s attention.”

“I know, Cage. That’s why I’m-”

“No, no, no. That’s why I’M going to China.”

It was now Kenshi’s turn to be speechless. “Johnny…No, no, I don’t want you involved.”

“Kenshi, I’m gonna level with you now. This is me leveling with you. I can handle myself. We went through hell and back, fighting impossible creatures and beating up scary bad guys. You KNOW I can fight. You KNOW I can handle this. If you’re truly some secret agent, then you need to be with your people. The longer Liu Kang is out of the loop, the less prepared our other allies will be. Not only that, but your insight will prove useful to these peeps who know next to nothing about that cunty sorcerer. Let me go in your place, I’ll let Liu Kang know.”

Kenshi wants to argue, but a part of himself can’t really dispute Johnny’s claims. Kenshi can’t be in two places at once, and if Johnny is going to be this persistent in helping, he might as well let him run as a messenger boy…The message, however, Kenshi is unsure if he wants to share it.

Kenshi gives Johnny the silent treatment, not responding to Johnny trying to get a word out of the swordsman. Kenshi rummages through his head about how he can break the news to Johnny, and how much he’s willing to give up to the actor. Before long, Kenshi ultimately decides that the truth is a better alternative. Because, eventually, they’re all going to know.

“Ok…Go to China, find the Academy, and tell Liu Kang what you know.”

Johnny nods, heavily resisting the urge to fist-pump the air in victory like a child. “I will. I can book a flight as soon as today and get a ticket to Shanghai-”

“You’ll need a ticket to Guangzhou,” Kenshi corrected.

“Right, Guangzhou. I’ll get the ticket, fly out of here, and I’ll get Liu Kang to get off his ass and help us out. Who knows, this might be another bastard from another timeline trying to conquer ours for all we care.”

“…I don’t think that’s the case,” Kenshi mumbled, but Johnny still heard what he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“…Because I saw Kung Lao…Our Kung Lao.”

If Johnny wasn’t serious then, the revelation about Kung Lao silences Johnny. He keeps searching Kenshi’s face as if to see if the blind swordsman was joking or pulling some cruel prank. And it frightens him that he finds none in Kenshi.

“What do you mean you saw Kung Lao? Like, you saw his body just walking about?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!?! That’s all you have to say about that?” Johnny couldn’t hold in his frustration and fear.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to say about that! Kung Lao’s body is walking around somewhere out there. That’s why I wanted to reach Liu Kang after reporting back to Jax.”

“I mean,” Johnny pinches the bridge of his nose as he paces in place, “Did you at least check his grave? You know, to see if it was tampered with?”

“I can’t. And you know why I can’t”

When Liu Kang returned Raiden back to Fengjian, while he didn’t explicitly say that they were forbidden from seeing their amnesiac friend, it was an unspoken rule amongst those who knew what happened that they shouldn’t meet with Raiden anymore. Liu Kang clearly wanted Raiden disassociated from everything that they were, and continued association could rip open old wounds best left to the natural healing forces of time.

Johnny nods in mutual understanding before letting out a shaky sigh. "Ok, then this is big time urgent. I'll get to Liu as fast as possible."

"I'll drive you to the nearest airport once you have your ticket," Kenshi says. "...And don't bother Raiden, Johnny."

"I know...I know," Johnny mutters, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess this is the part where we..."

"Yeah...I actually need someplace to lay down anyways," Kenshi purposefully leans against Johnny, forcing the actor to support his weight as they walk toward their motel room.

In the secrecy of their motel room, Kenshi further briefed Jax on what he learned tracking down the Jade Tiger Band while Johnny booked his flight. Of course, because he was trying to leave TODAY, the moment Johnny got a ticket, they had to rush to get him to the airport. Navigating the building was a nightmare; it was filled to the brim with an overly anxious crowd trying to get their flight and woefully understaffed. In a small way, it made Kenshi somewhat appreciative that Johnny decided to take his place to inform Liu Kang rather than going himself.

As they both wait at the gate, Kenshi digs in his pocket and hands Johnny a keychain in the shape of a Japanese symbol, "Here. Got this for you while I was away." In all honesty, Kenshi had gotten the item a year ago, but he had completely forgotten that he still had it in his pants. Better now than never, he supposes.

Johnny gasps as he takes the trinket, fiddling with it around his fingers, "Sick!" Johnny examines the keychain further, the gears turning in his head for a moment. "運...That means Luck, right?"

Kenshi couldn't help but smile, "You've been paying attention, I see."

"Aw, don't be too proud of me yet, babe. I've been lacking on my Japanese, thanks to the meetings I've been going to about my next upcoming movie. Which is going to be put on a definite hold if this is as bad as you make it out to be." Johnny leans closer to the swordsman, resting his head on his shoulder.

"How about this, try saying a full sentence in Japanese for me," Kenshi shifts his head to lightly rest on Johnny's while giving an inkling of a teasing message to him.

The actor is quiet for a moment before responding to Kenshi's subtle dare. "At least I'll have a good idea of what you are saying while you're fucking my brains out against the headboard."

Kenshi chokes on nothing as he looked at Johnny embarrassed. "Johnathan!"

"Pretty good, huh?" Johnny snickers.

"W-well, at least you can make out perfect sentences, I suppose."

"Like I said, don't go congratulating me just yet. Second I have another vay-cay in Japan, I'll still be acting like a fish out of water. Best I can do is read the language now."

"That's still an improvement. I'm proud of you nonetheless," Kenshi gives Johnny a kiss on the head.

The moment is ruined when Johnny takes a peek at his watch and curses under his breath. "My flight is going to take off in a moment." Johnny stands to his feet, leaning down to take any luggage, only to remember that he barely packed anything with him; just the clothes off his back. It's not like they could go back to the apartment after what happened with that Undead guy.

"I'll, um, text or call ya once I'm in China." Johnny gives Kenshi a reassuring glance.

Kenshi stands with Johnny and gives him a firm grip on his shoulder, "Be careful out there."

Johnny would've quipped about how others should be careful around HIM, but with the startling news about Kung Lao's return and the whole Undead business, Johnny holds his tongue. Instead, he softly takes Kenshi's gripping hand and squeezes it. "I will."

The pair part ways, Kenshi watching Johnny board his plane and taking off before heading out of the airport. Now to see if Shang Tsung and the Black Dragon are truly shaking hands & making friends.

~A Week Later~

He's going insane.

Ever since he left Kung Lao's house, Raiden could not shake the unnerving feeling that he was being watched. Everywhere he went, Raiden felt that there were eyes on him, even in the safety of his own home. Raiden had become more restless; he could barely keep his eyes open as he sat at the family dinner table. He doesn't even hear his mother calling for him until she finally touches his shoulder.

Raiden nearly jumped out of his skin as he snapped his head toward his mother, "Y-yes?"

His mother doesn't say anything, the concern on her face clearly apparent of what she wants to say. Raiden tries to resist the urge to rub his eyes, instead opting to just blinking his tiredness away. "Um, was-was there something you needed, mom?"

"...You need rest, dear..."

Any other day, Raiden would downplay those concerns. No, he's not tired. No, he's just fine. No, he's feeling alright. But Raiden doesn't argue this point with his mother. A pang of building guilt fills Raiden as he simply nods, removing himself from the table and walking back to his room. Raiden shuts the door behind him as he just sits on his bed, face in his palms as he wallows in his self-pity.

Ever since he left Kung Lao's house, Raiden has been getting worse. He wasn't getting sleep, he felt as though someone was watching him, he'd been hearing voices, his dreams had been waking him up in the middle of the night, frightened and sweating, and he was losing further grip on his powers. It's almost as if he's been cursed after entering Kung Lao's house. And while Raiden doesn't want to entertain that idea, he can't shake the feeling that he is. Every shadow Raiden was weary of. A soft breeze sends shivers down his spine as his mind believes someone was talking to him. The thunder wielder dreaded the comfort of his own bed, for he would have to anticipate a horribly realistic nightmare or stay awake, watching every dark corner and staring out his window; waiting for something or someone to come for him, until his body finally forces him to sleep.

Raiden slides his hands off his tired face as he glances at his bedroom window. It was early in the morning, too early for anyone to still be asleep, lest they intend to sleep in. Raiden knows he should rest his fatigued body; going to work or doing anything while in this state will be a detriment to everyone and himself. But his pride in contributing to his community nagged at him at his very core. He shouldn't be wasting his time in bed, regardless of how tired he was. In a huff, Raiden readjusted himself, getting ready to leave the house. But he stops when he reaches for his bedroom door. His parents and sister won't let him vacate the house in the condition he's in.

Raiden never had to sneak out of the house in his life, ever. That was always a Kung Lao thing. He remembers his best friend often knocking on his window to be let in like a misplaced puppy. Raiden almost wants to smile as he remembers how every time Lao would come around unannounced, it would always give Raiden a heart attack. Raiden backs away from his bedroom door, inching toward his window and opening it up so that he may exit through there. Raiden's careful to avoid the various other openings of his house that could expose him before making his way over to the Farm so that he may put in some work for the day. Of course, after he picks up an energy drink from the closest convenience store.

But even with a boost in vigor, it would not stop the ongoing protest Raiden's body would give him about his waning spirit. All throughout the day, Raiden was getting slower and slower, and he was constantly shaken awake by his co-workers. Raiden was able to make it through the morning and mid-afternoon of working, and the second he had that moment of brevity, he found the nearest tree to rest his head and knocked himself out.

By the time Raiden had woken up, it was already late in the evening. Raiden curses under his breath, pulling out his phone as he realizes that the alarm he set for himself failed to wake him up. It was already inching dangerously close to 6 at night, and his family most likely knew that he was out of the house by now. Raiden quickly gathered himself, hoping to make it home before they attempted to knock on his door to call him down for dinner.

The nightlife of Fengjian is usually quiet, save for the few who decide to have a night out drinking to celebrate small pleasures, but there are few places to drink lest you are doing so at one's residency or at the teahouse. Yet despite this, tonight was exceptionally quiet aside from the buzzing and chirping sounds of nocturnal insects. Raiden power walked through the empty streets, only to slow down considerably. Raiden slowly turns his head, trying to seemingly appear as though he’s just taking in his surroundings or deciding his next step. He cranes his head just enough to get the peripheral sighting of the roofs, and he feels his spine shiver; someone was watching him from above. He couldn’t see WHO or WHAT, but he saw a shadowed figure.

Raiden continues his walk, but he makes the conscious choice to go in the opposite direction of his house. He’s careful to not give away that he’s aware he’s being followed, attuning his ears sharply to the subtle movements of his stalker. Raiden searched his mind rapidly as he sought for a quick getaway. Because his stalker is watching him from above, anywhere he went, they would see. Raiden hesitated at the idea of having to lash out at the one trailing him, not wanting to place permanent harm or, better yet, accidentally killing them. But then again, as insane as stalking someone may be, no one would be crazy enough to tail behind someone via rooftops.

Fengjian wasn’t busy once night fell, everyone was in their homes enjoying the final moments of the day. Raiden couldn’t blend into a crowd or seek someone out in hopes of asking for their protection. Ultimately, Raiden decides that utilizing his powers would be the better alternative. Raiden stops in his tracks, playing off the illusion that he’s determining where he should go. Raiden notices a puddle spill that reflected the night sky above and the gibbous moon that shone in the heavens. Closely examining it with his eyes, he was able to get a slightly good look at where his stalker was positioned.

In one swift movement, Raiden spins on his heels and unleashes a rope of lightning toward his stalker. The individual seemed to have anticipated that Raiden would attempt an attack, but they were not fast enough to dodge his attack, quickly getting stunned by the lightning that wrapped itself around their waist. Mustering all the strength Raiden had, he pulled the person off the roof, crashing onto the ground while being electrocuted. Raiden releases his hold on this person and books it in the other direction, not taking a second more to interrogate or even get the face of the stalker. He dashes through tight alleyways, jumping over fences, and taking routes that would get him back on track to reaching home, before slamming himself against the side of a building. Raiden takes a moment to breathe, hoping that he had outran his stalker. Raiden almost wanted to slide off the wall and sit on the dirt below, but his blood ran cold when he heard the distinct sound of footsteps rapidly approaching him.

Without even thinking, Raiden hoofs it. Ducking into alleyways, hopping from fence to fence, taking shortcuts and passageways that he was highly familiar with, anything to get away from whoever was chasing him. However, Fengjian is no city or large town, and there weren't many opportunities for Raiden to shake this person off him. He considered flying away but flying required that he use his lightning to elevate him, which could cause unneeded damage and attention. Just like before, Raiden finds himself in a situation where he will have to throw fists.

Raiden purposefully "traps" himself, placing himself in a "tight space" but just enough opportunity for Raiden to fly or teleport away should he need to. He turns on his heels, facing whoever's chasing him as electricity encompasses him. "Come any closer, and I will use lethal force!" Raiden threatens, his eyes and hair glowing white.

The person following him was shrouded in shadows, the distance and darkness of the night concealing their appearance from Raiden. They stop in their tracks at the other end of the open passageway, blocking Raiden's "only" escape. All Raiden could ascertain about his stalker was that they had…Glowing red eyes…That's not natural. Even more unsettling are the dimly lit cracks in this individual's visible skin; their arms lined with red scars. The person stares at Raiden before walking closer to the thunder wielder. Raiden empowers himself with the energies of the amulet infused to his person, static filling the air as he creates an aura of electricity.

"I said, stay back!" Raiden growls, his hair and eyes now glowing brighter than before.

"You really don't remember me, Raiden?"

…That voice…

Raiden's face softens a little, his defensive stance faltering. He examines the person approaching him, still unable to fully discern who it was that was talking to him. But that voice, it sounds eerily familiar. Raiden watched as the individual stepped closer to him. And as they approached, Raiden was able to pick off distinct features about them. The heart-shaped face, the hat, the dimples as they smile…The piercings…

The static bouncing around Raiden provides a little extra light, along with the shining moon above. And when this person stops their gait in front of Raiden (a safe distance from his electrifying aura), it's almost as if the world had stopped around them. Raiden loses the stance he had before, standing straight, and his expression changes into a state of unbelievable shock. The static slowly disperses as Raiden loses the need to fight.

"…Lao…"

That's all Raiden could utter.

Kung Lao's smile wides upon Raiden's soft comment, his skin crawling as he hears his boyfriend's lips speak his name. "Hello, Raiden. Missed me?"

His smug grin, his cocky mannerisms, his voice…Raiden almost wants to believe that he's still dreaming. "…You…They-I…They told me you were-"

"Dead?" Kung Lao interrupts Raiden, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"…Yes…" Once again, all Raiden could say were simple words and maybe scattered sentences if his brain could cooperate with him.

Kung Lao laughs, but it's strained, as though he has a terribly sore throat. "Well, do I look dead to you?"

"…They told me…" Raiden mutters to himself.

Kung Lao dares to step closer, and Raiden backs away from his returned friend, pinning himself against the wall behind him. Kung Lao notices this, his face growing sinister while still keeping that smile plastered on his face.

"Come now, Raiden. No hug? A welcome home kiss?"

Raiden remains stuck with his back against the wall, like a deer in headlights. This shouldn't be possible. They said Kung Lao was dead! He visited his gravestone! His fucking gravestone!! His house was abandoned! Everyone in Fengjian KNOWS that Kung Lao was deceased! Every fiber of his being was screaming how something wasn't right with this scenario. That he should be running or fighting this imposter. His mind flips through every excuse in the book on how this isn't Kung Lao. That someone was impersonating Kung Lao just to antagonize him. Or that he was truly hallucinating, somehow seeing ghosts. As Raiden's brain continued to fry, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for water, Kung Lao was now face to face with his friend.

Lao frowns as though disappointed that Raiden hasn't done some expected action. "…Do you not remember me, Ray?" A hint of fear is sprinkled in his surprisingly saddened tone. Kung Lao lifts his hand slowly, reaching for Raiden's face until he was cupping his cheek.

Kung Lao was dead. He visited his grave-his abandoned house. His family told him how Kung Lao died-they have no reason to lie to him. Yet, when Lao touched him, when Raiden got to feel his…Cold hand…Gracing his face, Raiden melted under his touch. All his confusion and shock burned away. As though he finally found the missing piece to this jigsaw puzzle of a predicament. Raiden's eyes flutter shut, leaning into Kung Lao's hand. It felt right, even though Raiden couldn't fully place why that was the case.

"So you do remember," Kung Lao's smile slowly returns, his thumb rubbing Raiden's cheek.

Raiden opens his eyes, looking into Kung Lao's…They're red…His eyes were never red. His skin was deadly pale compared to the sun-beaten tan that he once had. The many angry cracks on his person warranted Raiden's attention as he brushed his fingers over the red lacerations and scars. His mind wonders of their origin. They were…Supposedly…Martial arts teachers. What could've possibly happened that would have caused these wounds? It was now Kung Lao's turn to lean into Raiden's touch, making subtle hums with each curious touch Raiden graced him. This probably would've been enough to recenter Raiden, but what grabs his attention is Kung Lao's neck. A glaring (and glowing) scar indicating that he was slashed in that area. His family has told him the cause of Lao's death; a clean cut to his neck due to an accident with some equipment that malfunctioned. Yet, when Raiden touches the old wound, when he stares at Lao's neck, Raiden cannot help but feel there is a hidden truth hiding behind the scar.

"…Raiden…"

The thunder wielder shoots his eyes up, looking at Kung Lao. Did he say something? From the looks of it, Kung Lao was still enraptured by Raiden's touch, continuously leaning into him like a touch-starved cat. The voice surely didn't sound like Lao either. Another mystery for another day, it seems.

Kung Lao draws a hum from his damaged throat as he flutters his eyes open, "I've missed this. We've been separated for so long, I've forgotten how good it feels to be near you again. To feel you again."

The pair meet eye to eye again, lost in each other as foreign feelings resurface again. Raiden has always viewed their relationship as just platonic. That's how its always been. They grew up together, fought together, teased and jested for as long as he could remember. Raiden likes to believe that Kung Lao may have felt the same, that there was nothing more to their friendship than that.

Yet, when he looks at Kung Lao, his heart skips a beat. He can feel his skin tingle, the innate desire to be closer to Kung Lao than they were right now. He wanted to hug him until their bodies melded into one, to run his hands through his half-buzzed hair until it was in complete disrepair. Raiden wanted to intertwine his hands into Lao's, clutching him tight so that they may never be separated again; his eyes would never leave Lao's being if he could help it. And a part of Raiden wanted to explain these feelings away as just being ecstatic seeing Lao again, someone he has long believed was dead. Yet, Raiden knew deep down there was something more to this than shared amity.

And Lao would be the first to confirm this fact to Raiden. Kung Lao's eyes kept glancing at Raiden's lips, still soft and plump despite the horrors they both experienced. He slowly closed the (albeit already small) gap that separated them, planting a tender kiss on Raiden. Under any other circumstances, Raiden would've made a startled noise. This is the first time in Raiden's known memory that Kung Lao kissed him with such care and passion. Yet, whether or not this was their first kiss was irrelevant to Raiden. This felt familiar, standard, as if he should've already known to accept such an exchange from Kung Lao. Raiden finds himself giving into the motions, his hands snaking over Kung Lao's shoulders as he uses him to keep himself up and to further lock them in this moment.

Raiden isn't sure what spurred Kung Lao on, but a muffled growl was heard from the other man, and Raiden finally emits that startled noise when he feels Lao's hands move from his waist to his ass. The pair separate, Kung Lao being the one out of breath despite the kiss not being that deep or filthy (for lack of better words). However, Kung Lao wasn't as red in the cheeks as Raiden was. He whimpers as Kung Lao's grip tightens, and he presses his body closer to the thunder wielder.

"L-Lao-mph!"

Raiden didn't get a chance to say anything else, for Kung Lao was back on his lips again, eagerly assaulting his lips, trying to breach into Raiden's mouth. Raiden tries to keep up with Lao, reciprocating as much as he could with his limited experience. Yet, when Kung Lao started sucking and biting his lower lips, that's where Raiden left himself vulnerable.

"L-Lao!" Raiden gasped, clinging onto Kung Lao as his friend grew increasingly ravenous.

The moment Raiden opened his mouth, Kung Lao deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into Raiden's mouth; familiar territory for the Shaolin Monk, new grounds for the thunder wielder. Raiden moans into the kiss, his body feeling weighted down and his vision going blurry from the new sensation. The feeling of Kung Lao exploring his mouth, battling his submissive tongue with his own, his hands now possessively grabbing at his ass. Raiden gave into Kung Lao's ministrations, his body slowly growing limp as he allowed his friend to do whatever he pleased. He was being consumed, almost fitting considering that his friend did come back from the dead. He was the first body that Kung Lao found upon his resurface, and he was going to devour Raiden, body and soul. And Raiden would let him if Kung Lao demanded it.

Raiden was increasingly losing air, having become breathless from Kung Lao's need to keep his lips on Raidens'. Slowly, Raiden was falling out of Kung Lao's spell on him, his desire to breathe becoming more of a voice of reason. Raiden starts pulling on Lao's clothes, which were surprisingly more like armor than typical clothing. He actually had to grasp at Kung Lao's hair and rip him off, a trail of saliva bridged between them. Raiden was now the one breathless, cheeks still red as cherries, eyes needing a moment to refocus. Hell, he actually had to rewire his brain so that he could focus on the matter at hand. Kung Lao makes another growl upon being separated from Raiden, though this one was more…Angry than lustful. Kung Lao tries to go in for another kiss, his hands now gripping at Raiden's clothes, as if wanting to remove them, or tear them off for that matter.

"Lao, Lao, wait, stop!" Raiden prevents Kung Lao from placing another suffocating kiss on him, making his tone clear that he wanted no more (for now, that is). Raiden would have to make his point even more clear as he firmly separates himself from Kung Lao, stopping Lao from even tearing off his clothes.

"How are you alive? You're supposed to be dead. They told me you died," Raiden quickly puts his concerns out there for Kung Lao to process.

This actually seems to have centered Kung Lao. His eyes, dark with anger, lust, and intent, dissolve into realization, and his features soften just a little. "…Right…What did 'they' tell you, hm? How did my death go down in history?"

Quite bold of him to phrase it like that. Then again, Raiden always knew that Kung Lao had an ego about him. Raiden ponders how he should break the news to him, unsure how much he can tell Kung Lao, before finally deciding that the truth would be better than concealing any information.

"You…You died because some equipment back in the U.S. malfunctioned…It got you in…" Raiden does his best to not look at Kung Lao's neck, keeping his eyes straight at Lao's eyes. "…The cause of death was a deep laceration to the neck…You died before you could make it to the hospital…That's…That's what my folks told me."

Kung Lao looked at Raiden in a subtle display of shock. If there was a chair, Raiden was sure Kung Lao would need it. Kung Lao's eyes slowly darted this way and that as if he were in deep thought, processing what he had learned.

Then he started…Smiling…Then he started laughing.

"So that hellish witch was right after all," Kung Lao quietly seethed, his hands balling into tight fists.

Raiden wasn't able to hear him, but he could imagine that this was…Much for Lao. "…Lao, I…This is probably a lot to take in, but there was a tombstone and funeral for you. Everyone in Fengjian thought you were dead. I thought you were-"

"Of course, you believed me dead! You were there to see it!" Kung Lao snaps at Raiden, his eyes glowing an angry red. "I died in your arms! The last thing I felt was you shaking my body while I was bleeding out on the dirt! AND YOU DID NOTHING! NOTHING BUT CRY LIKE THE WEAK COCKSUCKER YOU ARE!"

The last phrase caught Raiden off guard. Understandably, Kung Lao is confused and upset; this is a lot for him to take in. But that final line…That was…Unnecessary. Raiden pushes it to the side, building his sympathy as he responds calmly.

"I…I don't remember exactly what happened, Lao. It…It probably happened so fast. But, you're here now, and we can…We can help each other. My parents and Fuji would be happy to see you again. You can come with me back-"

"SHUT UP!"

Suddenly, Kung Lao's fist slams against the walled surface behind Raiden, dangerously close to Raiden's skull, as the wall behind Raiden makes a fist-sized crater from the force of Lao's punch. At this point, this truly scared Raiden, silencing the thunder wielder as he felt a pocket of uneasiness build within.

"I don't want your sympathy OR your useless offerings! Not when you left me to die because you were too weak-willed to save me! AFTER ALL I SACRIFICED FOR YOU! AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, I REMAINED IN YOUR SHADOW, 'CHAMPION OF EARTHREALM'! I PLAYED MY PART, I SUPPORTED YOU, AND WHAT DID I GET IN RETURN? A BIG, FUCK-OFF HORNED BASTARD SLASHING MY NECK, AND YOU DOING NOTHING TO SAVE ME IN RETURN! YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!! NO, YOU WANTED TO KEEP TO YOUR FOOLISH MORALS AND PLAY THE GOODY-TWO-SHOED ROLE! OR, BETTER YET, YOU WERE PROBABLY GLAD YOU WERE FINALLY RID OF ME! I GUESS SECOND BEST WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, HUH?"

Each sentence was further pronounced as Kung Lao kept making violent movements, hitting the walled surfaces around them. Never hitting Raiden, but the intent was there. And each swing forced a flinch from the thunder wielder as he expected Kung Lao to lash out at him. Under any other circumstance, IF Kung Lao were to attempt to hit him, Raiden would be able to block a punch or kick. But…But this felt different. This wasn't the usual friendly sparring the pair once indulged in; these throws, should Kung Lao decide to, could seriously injure Raiden…Kill him even…

"Oh, yes, I bet you were soo happy that I was finally out of the picture, Mr. Champion," Kung Lao jeered venomously. "I bet you felt relief knowing you didn't have to play pretend just to keep me happy. No longer had to play the annoyingly humble Raiden part once I was gone now that you had Liu Kang's undivided attention. And I can tell, don't try lying to me. That kiss was half-assed, even by your standards. You kissed me as if you didn't even know me!"

"L-Lao-"

"Or maybe you already moved on, didn't you? Who's the 'lucky guy,' hm? Is it Johnny? Kenshi? Heaven forbid Kitana! But I bet you like those types, huh? You like being a submissive bitch to someone who's way out of your league? I bet you sucked that Fire God off to get the title of Champion! He would've picked you regardless if you won or lost! I always saw the way he looked at you. He wanted you, no one else. Maybe that's why he paid such close attention to you than anyone else. He was playing favorites!"

"Lao-"

"No, you shut the fuck up! You think you can wise-man your ass out of this, but no, not this time, not ever. You never deserved it, ANY OF IT! I was ALWAYS better than you, ALWAYS! I'M THE ONE WHO KNOCKED THE TEETH OUT OF YOUR SKULL, I DID! EVERYONE HAS ALWAYS TOLD ME THAT I WAS THE BETTER FIGHTER. THAT I'M FASTER THAN YOU, STRONGER THAN YOU, EVEN NOW! BUT NOOO! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FLASH A SMILE AND SNIFF EVERYONE'S ASS AND, SUDDENLY, EVERYONE IS ALL OVER YOU!"

The more Kung Lao angrily rambled to Raiden, the more the thunder wielder felt his chest tighten. He's speechless, has Lao always felt this way? Raiden has always known that Kung Lao was a better fighter than him (he was considered Madam Bo's favorite student for a reason). Since they were children, Kung Lao fought harder and was faster due to, what Raiden assumed, was his rough upbringing. Raiden has always looked up to Lao, exemplified him even. But he didn't know…He didn't know Kung Lao felt like…This.

The more Kung Lao poked at Raiden's expense, the more Raiden felt himself tearing apart at the seams. Raiden doesn't consider himself someone who would allow anyone to walk all over him, even if he has the demeanor of someone who would. Even with his humility and kindness, Raiden has and will clap back should anyone talk shit to him. The difference between him and Kung Lao (at least back then), Raiden knew how to kill people with kindness. But to hear such hatred from Kung Lao, hearing him degrade him for events that he doesn't even remember or believe have happened to them. The confusion, the agony, the anger, it was consuming Raiden all at once.

"I'm…Sorry…"

It was all Raiden could muster, his voice quivering as he tried to maintain his composure while also breaking under Lao's sudden anger. There were many things Raiden wished he could say in response to Kung Lao's accusations. He wanted to reassure Kung Lao that he was seeing things that weren't there, that he had never thought of Kung Lao as lesser than or ever desired to be rid of him. But there was a part of himself that wished to chastise him. If Kung Lao would hear him out, he'd know that he lost a good chunk of his memories, and it wasn't fair of Lao to start spitting out occurrences that supposedly happened between them that vexed him. If Kung Lao was of his right mind, instead of immediately blowing up in Raiden's face, he would know that Raiden has NEVER felt this way about their relationship. They were childhood friends! Why didn't he tell him this before? Why wait until after he had DIED and then came back to life? How long did Lao let this fester in this state?

"I'm…Sorry…" Raiden says again, quietly whimpering with his head facing the ground. Trying his best to further obscure the tears running down his face.

There's a moment of silence before Raiden feels Kung Lao's hand touch his cheek. Raiden flinches but allows Kung Lao to caress him, wanting to believe that there's still some measure of trust between them that hasn't been lost. He doesn't say it, Lao doesn't have to, but Raiden meets Kung Lao's eyes. It was almost as though Lao's outburst was a terrible hallucination, a figment of his seemingly broken mind. Kung Lao appeared remorseful, wiping away the tears Raiden shed with care, his lips tight with guilt as if he realized what he had done.

"No. I should be sorry for you, Raiden. He took so much from you, and it pains me that she-" Kung Lao stops himself, as though needing to correct himself on the spot, "It pains me that there's so much…Lost time between us."

So…He does know? Raiden did try to explain his condition to Kung Lao earlier, but the way he said what he did makes it seem as though he already knew. But Raiden's brain was practically fried from the emotional rollercoaster he was on since he met Kung Lao. And it doesn't help that Kung Lao occasionally kissed his round cheeks, causing the thunder wielder to blush and melt into Lao once again. He never knew that his best friend would have such an effect on him…And he kinda likes it, honestly.

"It's-it's getting late, Lao. My folks are probably wondering where I'm at." Raiden says in a hushed tone. "You should come with me. They would be so happy to see you again. Everyone missed you."

Kung Lao smiles, "I'd love to. But not now. I have other business to attend to."

"You just came back from the dead," Raiden chuckles. "What other 'business' must you attend to?"

Kung Lao doesn't answer him directly, instead, he giggles himself and thumbs at Raiden's cheek. "I'll come by another time. Don't tell them yet, keep it a secret. It'll be a surprise." Kung Lao winks.

Raiden nodded, and for a moment, he wanted to lean into Kung Lao, wishing for a final kiss. But, to Raiden's surprise, Kung Lao just disappeared. Right in front of him in a quick flash of light and small, wilted cherry blossom petals floated around him before descending to the ground.

"RAIDEN!"

Fuck. It was Fuji.

Raiden follows her voice, revealing himself to his younger sister. "Fuji, hi, um." Raiden honestly didn't think too far ahead when it came to actually coming forward to his sister.

"Raiden! Where the hell were you! You were supposed to be in bed, at home!" Fuji rushes towards her brother, pulling at his ear as if she were his mother.

"Agh, ow, ow, Fuji, stop!" Raiden strains in pain as he pulls her off him. "I'm sorry that I worried you-"

"Fucking hell, Raiden, you gave us all a heart attack! We thought the worst!"

Fuji continues to scold Raiden, and he quietly lets his sister air out her worries. Raiden reassuringly pats her head, smiling apologetically, "I'm sorry I snuck out of the house. I just-I didn't feel…I missed too many days of work; I didn't want to skip another day."

Fuji sighs, "I get that, but you have to take care of yourself first. You haven't been getting sleep, your night terrors have been increasing, you've been acting paranoid. We're getting worried and…We thought you went and…Did something stupid."

"It won't happen again, promise."

This seemed to finally settle Fuji as she motions for Raiden to follow her back home. "You can win me over easy, brother. Mom & Dad will be talking your ear out all night, so I hope leaving the house was worth it."

In a small way…Yeah, it was worth it.

#Wilted Cherry Blossoms Dark Thunderstorms Burning Hopes #Oops Kung Lao's Dead Again AU #Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat 1 #MK1 #MK1 Raiden #MK1 Kung Lao #MK1 Kenshi #MK1 Johnny Cage #MK1 Jax #MK1 Fujin #Fuji

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phantom-of-the-ruckus · 1 year ago

Text

The lost episode of Mortimer's Handeemen

Disclaimer: This is a creepypasta meant to be a just-for-fun Halloween thingy. I did not go all the clichés. I now just find most of them silly, but I know there are some good ones. This creepypasta is not connected to any AU and is more of an internet story that would appear in the games in the 1990s to 2010s with some speculation about whether it's real or if the one who posted it was a troll or did it for entertainment.

Either way, happy halloween! Enjoy ^^

TW: for blood, scary imagery, horror, creepypasta, body horror, and gore

[An audio log is found. A mysterious person presses it. The message start.]

H-Hello?

[It appears to be a young teenager. Her voice is groggy and whispery, you can hear her heavy breathing]

I...I hope you can hear me or...well rather listening to this audio log.

I'm trapped, and I can't get out...I can't remember well how I got in, but I can tell you what I know of my current location and well my personal state.

[There was a long pause and heavy breathing. In the background there were some steps and scratches at the distance.]

T-they're looking for me....

[It appears that she is muttering to herself. After another long period of silence, she begins to speak once again.]

Sorry...I'm not exactly in a situation where I can easily tell my story. I'm c-currently hiding in some domain of the studio.... T-the Handeemen Studio to be exact. The one that got burned down and close.

[She let out another long pause as footsteps in the distance could be heard.]

I am not supposed to be here. I am supposed to be in the testing rooms, or I think it was the testing rooms. Perhaps I did die and I am a ghost... No. They are looking for me. I must be alive...

[A door shuts and the mysterious girl lets out some heavy breathing.]

I think they left. Hopefully.

[She breathes once again. Her voice is hearing a bit close to the voice recorder.]

I...I don't remember much. I can't remember my family, if I had one, nor my age. I can't recall my own face, or my own name. I think It was Jessica Parker....or was it Jessica Drew? No...maybe it was Siobhan Drew or Siobhan Parker.... It must be one of those names. They are familiar to me, but I can't remember who belong to who. I do remember they were part of a story. The story of how I got here. That is the story that I can't seem to forget, and probably the reason why I am recording this. I may never remember it or probably would get killed for running away. So...I guess I am recording this now in hopes anyone finds it.

[There was another long pause and a sigh followed after.]

I suppose I can't remain nameless for the rest of this recording. I don't want to remain nameless as I don't remember my name of who am I. But....but I think I used to be called "Jay." It's written on my wrist, or well is smeared with my own blood and I can see is either "Jay" or "J 4 Y." I used to have some writing on my arms and legs, they are smeared and I can't decipher what it was or why it was written. The only thing readable was the "Jay" or "J 4 Y." You can call me Jay. After all it does sound like a name, and I do love the idea of having a name...even if it's not my own name....since I can't remember. But....but I do remember one name. It's Jordan. No last name since I can't recall. Jordan was a kid I used to babysit...or I think I did. I used to watch him. I do recall a lady who was his guardian or mom I don't remember her name. I think it was either one of the possible names I mentioned before.

She'll be just Jordan's mom. It makes it easier for me to remember, and she no longer becomes a nameless face in what remains of my memory. So...Jordan's mom usually called me to watch over Jordan. I think I was his babysitter. I can't remember. She often had to go to work, and we spent hours upon hours doing homework, playing, and...watching TV He...he had a favorite show. A puppet show, some sort of Muppet's knockoff....or was it Sesame Street? It was a cancelled show from a closed down and burnt down studio. The same studio I am trapped here today Mortimer's Handeemen. The thing that got me where I am today. My own nightmare, and the parasite that is taking away my life and memories.

[There was a small pause. Jay was oddly silent. It was almost as if she was taking a time to recompose herself.]

I can remember how did they use to look like. They looked friendlier, happy, and almost as if they never thought about harming anyone. What a crude lie. I see them every day. They are mean, and they like to sew puppets into my arms. I can feel the pain, and then I feel asleep and wake up with no memory.

It's an endless cycle. Every day, I remember less and less about myself. My memories are snapping moments in time. I can't remember how long or when they happened. But I do remember the handeemen from the episodes. I remember them so vividly, and their hyperrealistic faces that were captured into my memories. I saw them permanent smiles. They made Jordan happy ...or I think they did.

He loved the show. It was no longer on aired, but he managed to get some merchandise, VHS tapes of the episode, specials, and shorts. He owned the figures of the main group and the dog. I...I think his favorite was the dog or the artistic guy, Nick Nack. I remember seeing them in a lot of the episodes Jordan and I used to watch. Or maybe it's because I have vivid snapping memories of a hyperrealistic dog made out of humans parts. Large teeth filled with blood, a red eyes staring at me, and his killer bloody paws that could maul anyone within reach.

[Jay pauses momentary.]

Sorry, I lost track of myself.

My mind keeps flooding with memories and...I keep forgetting why am I here sometimes. Not...not how I got here, but rather why am I hiding again...

I know I don't have much time...so it's better if I finish my story. That if I actually have time as they might get me soon...

[There is another period of silence. Jay gets close one again. Her voice is trembly.]

J-Jordan adored the show, and we watch it like a lot. Eventually, we ran out of episodes, and Jordan was getting tired of watching them.

This is where it gets a bit blurry for me. I can recall caring for Jordan, and I am sure I bought him a VHS tape.

But...but the thing is I can't remember why I bought it.

I think he asked me if there were unseen episodes to watch, or I wanted to surprise him.

I was talking to who I believe was my boyfriend. I don't remember his name, so he'll remain as "boyfriend." There is also this other guy involved, so he'll be called "Guy."

So...Boyfriend told me about Guy. He was in his 20s I think. He loved to break into abandoned places for loot, which...also included the abandoned studio.

According to Guy, he didn't break into the studio as often. He got inside like three times I believe or from what I can actually remember.

One of these times, he found a mysterious VHS in the late creator's office. I can't tell if that was a stretch to be cool, or if he actually went in there. Either way, the VHS was a very real thing.

The episode was a never seen or aired episode. The episode was called "Mortimer's Handeemen and the mysterious Meteorite." In the back there was a note saying "PROTOTYPE. DO NOT PLAY" but Guy did play it for some testing before putting it on sale.

I knew that Jordan would love it, so I bought the VHS tape for about 20 or 10 bucks. I remember doing some bargaining. I can't remember the exact price, but I got a sweet deal and immediately brought it to Jordan.

We turned on the TV and placed the tape. The episode started with Mortimer staring with his permanent smile. There was so music. Only a dreadful silence. I didn't have too much importance, and took the VHS out and in thinking the episode froze.

Then, the episode started with Mortimer greeting the audience. He sounded less cheerful than usual. He was introducing the fictional place where the Handeemen lived....but he was rather staring almost as if he could see us. I ignored thinking it was just a prototype error.

Eventually the main theme started. It was very slowed down, and the music sounded off-key. We figured it was due to the age of the VHS tape and continued watching the episode. It started normal with one of the kids finding a strange rock and calling the Handeemen about it.

Then, things started to get odd. The tape suddenly stopped and looped over when the Handeemen were picking up the meteorite. Suddenly the TV went black, almost as if someone turned off....but it was still on and the VHS tape was running.

The screen turned on and showed an empty room. It was silent, but I could feel something was lurking over. I turned off and on the TV. The normal episode was on. I rewind the tape, but everything was as if the image was not there. We continued watching the episode thinking it was a glitch.

Or so we thought...

As the episode progressed. The handeemen sounded less friendly. They sounded annoyed and furious. Their eyes were slowly becoming red. Then they went back to normal as if nothing happened.

I was getting nervous as this was starting to look less of a malfunction and more of a prank. I left the room to call Guy and ask him what was this all about. He was confused and told me that never happened before.

Suddenly I heard a scream. It was Jordan. I hung up and rushed to the living room. He was curled up and crying as he begged me to turned it off. I was confused, so I watched at the TV to see what was going on.

[Jay gives out a long pause. Growling can be heard from the outside. Her breath can be heard again, until the growling fades.]

Sorry... there were puppets nearby...

Where was I?

Oh yes...

When I looked back at the TV, I saw hyperrealistic man. He had a horrified expression and seemingly was rotting. He was sitting on a chair...but he was cut in half and was bleeding. He had mitten sewn into his hands, as I could see the bloody stiches.

It was almost as it was a real thing going on, as if the camara was live. It was horryfing.

Jordan began to scream and begged me to put it away. The channel began to fave, as numerous symbols and strange words began to appeared. I tried to turn off the TV but the off and on button nor the controller were working.

Suddenly a raspy voice began to muttered "I C U" just as the image of the man cut in half was getting closer. Before anything else could happened, I unplugged the TV and everything shut down.

Jordan was upset and terrifed as ever. It was within very good reaons. I did my best to calm him down and told him that I will get to the bottom of this. He decided to go outside and play with his friends. I called Boyfriend, and then called Guy.

When they arrived, Jordan was drawing on the floor. Boyfriend and I confronted Guy about the tape. He swore he never tampered with it. I took him to the living room and plugged the TV back. The episode runned down normally to my surprised.

Jordan eventually sat down and watch it as Guy told me I was crazy and to never contact him again. He left leaving Jordan and I confused. Boyfriend tried to be suportive, and telling me it was propbably some prank in bad taste.

[Jay pauses. It appears she needed a momment to think.]

I do like to think that was the case, but reality turned to be another. Now I am stuck here. Loosing my memory and myself eventually... Alone. A lab rat And-

[Jay pauses before sighing]

Sorry. I lost track again.

I....we....

Jordan. I talked to Jordan about the situation. I told him that this was either a malfunction or a prank from Guy. He felt unsure, but decided to trust my word. That's what I can remember most about the event.

I know that I ended up staying watching for the night. I cannot assure you wether it was on that same night or if a few days pased. All I know was that Jorda's Mom had aked me to stay overnight to watch her son.

And then, that was when things started to get spooky and unsettling...

Jordan was in his room asleep. I just tucked him in, and I was helping Jordan's mom to clean the kitchen. The phone began to rang and I picked up thinking it was probably Jordan's mom asking me if Jordan was okay.

When I picked up the phone....there was silence and a breathing.

"Hello?" I said, thinking this was some bad connection.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" My blood went cold as shivers sent right down my spine. I dropped the phone and ran towards Jordan's room.

He was still in his bed asleep. I checked around to see if there was anything off. When I was sure he was safe, I left the room and picked up the phone.

"He's alright." That was the lat thing I said when I hung up.

15 minutes, I recieved the same call.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" I once again dropped the phone and checked on Jordan.

He was alright, and I hung up the phone refusing to answer the question this time. The mysterious guy called again but I hung up as soon as I heard his voice, and went directly to check on Jordan.

After a while, I decided to leave the door open and keep an eye if anything happened. The same mysterious person kept calling for about 20 minutes. I hung up each of his calls, and he eventually stopped.

I started to slowly doze off. It was getting pretty late, but part of me remained unsettled about the mysterious calls. I doze off momentarily before the phone rang. I hesitated to pick it up, fearing it was the mysterious caller.

To my surprise and relief, it was Jordan's mom. She was calling to check if Jordan was alright.

"He's just in bed. Everything is fine, ma'am." I said just as I heard the TV turning on, and the Handeemen's playing. I ended the conversation and hung up.

I was upset. I figured that Jordan woke up and tried to sneak into watching another episode. When I entered the living room, my skin went pale. The episode I brought from guy was playing, but there was no one watching it.

I took the TV remote and tried to turn off the TV or stop the player. Neither of them worked, but their batteries were still on. I tried to manually turned them off, but it was useless. Then...I tried to unplug the TV.

"This should do it." I thought to myself.

The episode continued to play as if nothing had happened.

Terrified, I tried to remove the tape but what happened next, left me paralyzed in fear.

The screen went back, and then showed Guy being strapped into a bed. His eyes were swollen and he was screaming. Suddenly, the scientist puppet, Riley, entered the room. She had a twisted smile and her eyes were glowing red. In her left hand, she had a saw.

I could not feel my body as I was too horrified to move. I saw Riley slowly approaching guy as she maniatically laughed.

"You'll become one of us!" She said just as she slowly began to press the saw into Guy's torso and slowly cuting him off as blood dropped.

The screen went back, and the next picture was a twisted and bloody Mortimer staring at the screen with a teacup filled with blood and the letters I, C, and U underneath.

The picture then changed to a video of Nick. He was in his art room. His face was melting so hyperrealistic, that it almost looked as if he was bleading. He was sobbing uncontrollably as he strocked some abstract painting of black and red.

The screen went black, and then Daisy appeared on what is seemed to be a kitchen. She was humming to herself as she baked a pie made out of human organs. My stomatch twirled up as I could see Guy's eyes into the mix.

The screen shut down as I stood there trembling as the phone began to ring. I walk towards it and pick up with trembling hands.

"Have you checked on the kid yet?" It was the same mysterious caller as before. I dropped the phone and ran towards Jordan's room.

The bed was empty and he was nowhere to be found.

I picked up the phone and I cried "WHO ARE YOU? WHERE IS HE?"

There was no answer, and no sign of the caller. Then the call disconected and the phone disconnected completely. I dropped the phone, and rushed towards the living room when I heard sobbing.

The place was empty, but the TV had a distrubing picture. It was the same mysterious human puppet man, but now where was Guy accompaning him. His eyes were gone and he was bleeding. He had sewn mittens into his hands, and just as the mysterious man, his upper body was sitting on a bleeding chair.

There was some silent sobbing as the background, but my eyes focused on the message underneath the figures...

"HELP ME" Underneath was the direction to the abandoned studio.

Fearing that Jordan was taken by those puppets, I left the house and rode on my bike into the studio. After I came in, I broke inside and desperately began to look for Jordan.

[Jay's voice trails off as she starts to become uneased.]

I-I couldn't find him, but I heard noices from the outside. I feared that they were outside...a-and went down deeper. Then someone struck me in the head and everything became a blurr.

I heard the voices of Jordan's mom, Boyfriend, the police, and Jordan looking for me outside. I doze off as they shut down.

I woke up on a lab with a puppet sewn into my hand, and then I lost my memory slowly and began to forget who am I or where am I, just remembering the evil faces of the puppets and how I got here.

Now, this the only chance I got to store what becomes of my memory. If you find this, that means that I am dead...or if miracously you found me with no memory.

Either way, please find the VHS and destroy it. No one should have ever seen the lost episode, and become a victim like I or Guy became.

[The tape ends as Riley Ruckus tosses it aside , scoffing, before returning to work. Not realizing that a mysterious man is staring at the tape from afar. His plaque, reading JORDAN]

---

HAPPY HALLOWEEN AND I WISH YOU A VERY SPOOKY DAY!

~ With care, Phantom <3

#hello puppets #hello puppets midnightshow #riley ruckus #nick nack #mortimer handee #daisy danger #creepypasta #tw: gore #tw:blood #tw: blood #tw: saws #tw: body horror #tw: horror #tw: murder #tw: creepypasta #Happy Halloween #spooky season #goretober I guess #enjoy!

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staticscreenwriting · 2 years ago

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maybe the night would take me home II Frankie Morales

Part 1 : "Divorce And The American South" & "The Thunderbird Inn"

a Frankie Morales Story inspired by the album "We Don't Have Each Other" by Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties.

A/N : This imagine series will deal with sensitive topics please see my tags for TW. Please proceed with caution. Also there’s mention of smoking and alcohol. English is not my native language, go easy on me please. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

He can just about make out the glow coming from the street light in front of his window. There used to be more color permeating the thin curtains and throwing kaleidoscope patterns into his motel room but people have started to take down their Christmas lights leaving him with just the ugly yellow of the street lamp.

The motel room is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks it's fitting because that's exactly how he feels and really, he doesn’t mind it all that much.

The clerk at the front desk, he wants to say his name is Steve, is nice, and always pours him a cup of coffee whenever he finds Frankie sitting in the tiny lobby area of the Motel where the vending machines are. The coffee isn’t good but it’s warm and that’s enough these days.

“Long night?” he asks and every time Frankie nods and says “Sure has been.” Steve then grants him one of those smiles that lets you know the person is looking straight through your lie but they’re way too nice to call you out on your bullshit.

“Well, tomorrow’s a new day. Hope that one is better,” he replies, every time.

Frankie nods again knowing full well it won’t be.

He’s given Frankie a break on the rent this week.

“Look don’t you worry about it. Just make sure you pay me back with next week’s rent. I know you’re good for it.”

“I probably am.”

Steve was laughing then. He probably won’t laugh when he hears that Frankie’s coming up short again this week.

Back in his tiny motel room, his clammy hands grab the room's phone tightly. It will probably cost him a fortune to use it — again — though after throwing it against a solid brick wall, his cell phone is but a piece of junk left somewhere by the side of the truck stop.

He doesn't really need it anyway. Too many pictures and memories and shit he doesn't want to think about because he can’t get it back.

He takes another sip from the bottle. He thinks it's whiskey but he might be wrong. It all tastes the same these days.

Calling her won’t do any good and he knows but he can't help himself. It's like an itch that he just has to scratch. It's like a desperate need that he has to satisfy. It's like an addiction he has to feed.

It's 2 in the morning and she's most likely asleep and Frankie hates himself for waking her up. She's lost enough sleep as it is. But his mind is so loud and he needs to get all of these things off his chest. All the things he didn't say when he should have, when it counted, when it meant something, when she needed him to.

It's not the first time he's called either. He wonders if she'll ever pick up.

There's a perfectly clear picture burned into his mind of the first time he'd called her after he left. He had been stranded at some run-down truck stop that could've been the perfect location for the first kill in a horror movie. There was a bottle of water in his hand and the phone receiver in the other.

He can't recall how long he'd spent inside the phone booth reading her number out loud and trying to work up the courage to call her but he knows it's been quite a while. And when he did he was met with the dial tone. With every beep his heart sunk a little further, felt a little heavier.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Her voice sounded so cheery and he remembers the tears threatening to leave his eyes at the sound of it. She hadn't sounded this cheery in a long long time and his heart broke knowing that was partially his fault.

" Hey Y/N, It's me .... Frankie. If you’re listening can you please pick up the phone? I know you're home. "

He could still recall her daily schedule better than anything, after all, they had been living together for years.

" I know where I went wrong. I really do. I uh— I'm at a truck stop. Not sure where I'm going yet but I'll call you. Please talk to me, baby. I love you. "

He remembers his heart breaking and breaking more and shattering and it hasn't been fixed yet. There's that little cynical corner of his brain that tells him it never will be fixed. All good things come to an end sooner or later and this is THE good thing in his life. She is the best thing. She was the chance he never thought he’d get. A shot at redemption.

That other day he found a bar just outside the township line. He goes most every night now whenever he can feel a bad night coming. All nights are bad nights now. The floors are sticky and the bar is dusty but the drinks are cheap and the barkeeper doesn’t bother to get him tangled up in any kind of conversation. All Frankie gets is a look of pity as he pours him another drink. Fuck, he didn’t know that he looks that pathetic.

The alcohol doesn’t numb his heart the way it used to. Back when he woke up in a cold sweat with visions of a life he tried so hard to leave behind he could always count on the inside of a bottle to make the demons disappear for a while. Then when that stopped working, the drugs managed to do it.

And then when he hit rock bottom, for some inexplicable reason, life chose to send him her and she made every other coping mechanism pale in comparison. Her love did not make the demons go away, or the fear, or the guilt. Her love made him realize that he could live a good life regardless. That even the worst parts of him are worthy of love.

He thinks she might’ve been wrong.

There's a half-empty pack of cigarettes laying on the nightstand. He hasn't touched them for a while. Got them at that same truck stop where he smashed his phone but only smoked half a pack before he remembered that promise he made her a long time ago, back when she had first told him, back when they were happy.

And he failed. Because for a while he’d felt like the reason he stopped smoking in the first place had vanished. If there was no one to promise something to, was there even a promise to begin with?

The cigarettes bring back memories of the second time he'd called her. It was right after he arrived here, at this very same motel. With the very same peeling wallpaper and the chipped door and the ceiling fan that is missing one blade and the carpet with the burn marks. The same motel he is basically succumbing in right now.

He was less nervous the second time he'd called her, less nervous but more fucked up. Half drunk on cheap whiskey and half drunk on the infinite sadness he's felt ever since their life went to shit.

This time he didn't make himself believe she'd pick up. He knew she wouldn't and maybe that was a good thing. Frankie didn't want her to know he was shitfaced, that he tried to numb the pain with past vices he promised to leave behind.

" Hey Y/N "

As the words rolled off his lips there was no doubt in his mind that she'd still know. He sounded drunk. He hated it.

" Just wanted to tell you that uh — I uh I've been trying to quit. I went from a pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. "

It had been a stupid idea, thinking this e-cigarette shit would do anything for him but it was worth a try. Everything was worth a try for her.

" It stops the coughing fits. I know that you always hated my smoking habit. I hope you can be a little proud of me. I know I don't deserve it. I love you, bye."

There was a time, Frankie thinks and scoffs, when he thought love was enough. What a fool he'd been. Now he knows that's all proper bullshit.

It isn't like he doesn't love her, he loves her entirely too much for his own good.

It's that too much love can destroy you. It eats you up from the inside out.

He can't keep himself from loving her though, and from holding onto that little spark of hope that she might still love him back. After all they've been through, all they had to endure, the thought that she might one day forgive him and love him again was the only thing still keeping him afloat. Without her, he'd sink. And maybe, he thinks, maybe love is enough. It's enough to make him go on.

There's a fly buzzing around the room, sitting down on Frankie’s arm from time to time. He doesn't have the energy to swat her away.

A little voice in his mind wonders what would happen if he just kept laying here. Maybe if he only lays here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat him alive. Maybe the night will swallow him and take him home. Maybe she’ll come looking for him.

His mind wanders off to places he tried hard to forget. To the tears and the pain and the way she didn't yell at him. Not once.

She didn't scream or yell or throw stuff at him. She just stared and let it all wash over her as if she was invincible.

He knew she wasn't. Knows she isn’t now. She wasn't invincible but she was too deeply wounded to care anymore and that was the most terrifying part of it all.

He wanted her to yell so he knew she still cared.

He thinks of the dream and how he saw himself, lifeless, alone. How everyone was looking at him as they lowered his casket into the ground. How his friends were there, his brother, his family, and even the neighbors. Not her though. She wasn't there.

His fingers are dialing the familiar numbers before he can even fully register what's happening.

There's the dial tone that he's grown to know so well lately. Three more and he gets to hear her voice.

Two.

One.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Lies. She won’t call back. But that's okay, he understands why she doesn’t. Why she can’t.

" Y/N It's me again. Frankie. "

He combs his fingers through his hair nervously.

" Of course, it's me, who else would call you at this time? I'm sorry. "

He's been saying sorry an awful lot lately. Especially considering the fact that he hasn't been very generous with that word when it really mattered.

" I had a dream. About you. Well not exactly about you. Actually, you weren't in it and that's kind of the problem. "

Remembering the dream sends a cold shiver down his back.

" I uh — I was on a plane. I flew back north, no idea where I wanted to go. All I know is that I didn't make it there. Plane went down like it was made of paper. They were all at the funeral. My funeral. Everyone. Not you though. You — You weren't there Y/N. That scares me. I hope you'd come to the funeral. I'd want you there. "

He knows it's time. She's not gonna pick up anytime soon so this might be his only chance of ever getting to admit his faults of ever talking about the actual problem, the root of all the pain and heartbreak. It's not face-to-face but it's the next best thing. It's his only shot.

" Y/N, I know I fucked up. I do know. It's just after it happened. After — "

Saying it out loud will make it real. It will break his heart once again. He's an adult though and has been running from his issues long enough. This stupid urge to flee made this all so much worse.

Take a breath.

And face the reality.

" After it happened. When we lost the baby I just, I shut off. I shut you out and I am so sorry. I just, I needed to be strong for you but I wasn't. All I did was push you away. I never listened. I wasn't there. I should've been there for you to help you get through this but I was too busy keeping myself from bursting at the seams. Fuck, I was so selfish. If I could change the way I treated you, treated the situation, trust me I would. I would. I miss her so much Y/N and I never even got to meet her and I didn't want to put this all-consuming sadness on you so I pulled away. I didn't want to make you hurt even more than you already were but that's exactly what I did and I will never forgive myself for that. I hope you can though. I love you so much. "

There's a hole in his chest the size of a newborn.

It's the size of a little baby girl he never got to meet. A little baby girl he always imagined would have his eyes and her mother's breathtaking smile. A little baby girl he'd raise to be brave and generous and smart and wonderful.

There is a hole in his chest the size of a little baby girl and he knows it will never fully heal.

He should've been there for her, his wife, the mother of his child. He had tried so hard, so hard to hide his sadness and pain from her instead of embracing it with her by his side. He should've been there with her so they could hold each other above the waters. But he let her drown by herself and he would never fully forgive himself for that.

" I love you Y/N and I'm coming home soon I promise. That's if you still want to see me. I won't let you go through the darkness alone anymore though. I love you. "

He hangs up the phone and without a warning, the tears roll down his cheeks. They're the silent kind, the painful kind. But for once, since it all happened they're not entirely from sadness, a small part of him is feeling a little lighter now that he's faced reality. A small part of him cries tears of relief. A small part of him still believes that maybe things with his wife can work out again if only he can show her how much he cares and loves her. That he can hold her hand even through the darkest of times.

A small part of him knows that it can't get worse than this.

A small part of him, a small part knows she loves him back. Even with that gray cloud hanging over him reminding him of the paperwork that might be waiting for him at home.

is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks that things can only get better from here on out.

It’s 2am when he sneaks out of his room and past the lobby. Steve will forgive him, he’s sure of it. For the two weeks' rent and for not saying goodbye.

The world is fast asleep as his car takes him down the empty streets towards the bar he found some resemblance of comfort in for the last few weeks.

One last drink, he tells himself. But this one won’t be for the bad days ahead. This one will mark a page turned, a step taken.

“Whiskey?” the barkeeper inquires, already pulling the bottle from the shelf.

“Gimme a beer instead. Whatever bottles you have in the fridge is fine.”

No more words are exchanged as the barkeeper hands Frankie the cold bottle.

This one’s for the daughter he’ll never meet, he thinks, and the wife who shouldn’t love him no more but god does he hope and pray she still does. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

He’s got half a tank of gas left and as soon as the bottle is empty he’ll make his way home.

Not the motel.

Home. Their apartment.

And he’ll face whatever is waiting there for him.

That’s the thing about losing everything — things can only get better from here on out.

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ruvviks · 2 years ago

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Chapter >> 17 [x] Characters >> Cato Wu (oc), Eddie Wolfe (oc), Lauren Dimas (oc), Mikhail Koshechkin (oc), Panam Palmer, Rogue Amendiares, Viktor Vektor, Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 9.2k Warnings >> Blood, chess mention :/, death, injuries, irresponsible driving, violence

‘Hey- Get up. Can’t have you dying on me now.’

The constant, gentle beeping of a nearby heart monitor slowly woke Cato from her slumber, the noise reminiscent of her alarm yet she did not even have to open her eyes to know that this was anything but an ordinary morning; if it was even morning to begin with.

She inhaled deeply, eyes moving behind eyelids and head heavy on the questionable-quality pillow of the unfamiliar bed she found herself in; a weight pressing down on her chest, keeping her locked in position, even the slightest of movement burning painfully through her muscles.

Where the fuck am I?

Cato only remembered flashes.

A car chase- no, she had been on a motorcycle- a stolen one, no less, racing through the streets of Northside in the middle of the night after yet another failed attempt to get help, trying to-

Trying to-

She groaned, memories from seemingly another lifetime flooding back into her mind and her chest painfully tightened, sudden fear overtaking her. Had they finally captured her, now? After everything she’d done- every precaution she had taken to get them off her trail, all the cut ties, all the words left unspoken-

Another deep inhale. It did not smell like a hospital, wherever she was; it did not smell like any of their medbays, or a Trauma Team ambulance, or any other corporate location for that matter. The vague smell of blood and sweat lingered around her, mixed with bleach, some sort of disinfectant-

It stung a bit.

Finally Cato opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light of some lamp pointed directly at her face. She slowly let her gaze trail the room- oh, yeah, a ripperdoc, alright- past cold concrete walls, a surgery chair, makeshift medical equipment and a cluttered desk in the corner on her far right, until she found two figures; one sitting on a stool, the other leaning against the wall.

She did not recognize either of the two men; that was, until the one standing took a few steps closer upon noticing she was awake. Her heartbeat instantly spiked and she jolted up- but her vision faded instantly and with that she sank back down onto the surgery bed she was-

Handcuffed to?

‘Standard procedure,’ the man said, gesturing at Cato’s wrist before running his hand through his short, bleached hair. ‘My apologies. It is always tricky to determine if a merc is going to resort to violence once awake or not.’

‘I’ll fuck you up,’ Cato spat before she could stop herself, her voice hoarse as it left her lips- words scraping past raw throat and it caused her to cough, the raspy noise echoing through the room.

‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’ A pause, as Vitali Dobrynin reached into his pocket and took out a key, then reached for Cato’s wrist and- respectfully keeping his hands to himself- freed her from her restraints.

‘Cato Wu,’ he said, grabbing a chair from the side of the room and setting it down next to the surgery bed while Cato slowly sat up a second time, carefully now, allowing the dizziness to settle before she moved any further.

‘How’d you know my name?’

‘I have my ways.’

‘Right- fixer.’

‘Do I sense contempt?’

Cato sucked in her cheeks and raised her hand, mockingly putting her thumb and the tip of her index finger a mere millimeter apart. ‘Thiiis much. Pinky promise.’

Perhaps not her wisest decision- mocking a fixer like that only inches away from his face. And not just any fixer, either; a new face on the big stage in town, sure, and not nearly as famous- or infamous- as Rogue Amendiares or Dexter DeShawn, but one making his way to the major leagues quicker than anyone ever before.

Of course Cato had heard of him. She had gone looking for him to ask for his help, for fuck’s sake.

She watched carefully as Vitali’s eyes trailed over her face, scanning every little detail- reading her, and she slightly straightened her back in response. No one said anything; and instead it was merely the sound of the heart monitor filling the space around them, Cato’s heartbeat once more steady now that she had calmed down.

‘You have quite some history, from what I could gather,’ the fixer finally spoke, slowly leaning back in his chair as the corner of his mouth slightly pulled up. ‘Active in security since age 17- and now on the run from Kang Tao, no less.’

‘Nothin’ I can’t handle.’

‘I’ve sent some of my people after the squads. They won’t find you here.’

‘Wasn’t concerned.’

‘Of course not.’

Unbothered by her attitude, playing along- yet playfully so, and Cato finally relaxed a little bit as the other man in the small ripperdoc clinic wheeled himself over as well, moving around her to carefully unplug the medical equipment from the port in her neck.

‘Take it easy the next couple days, alright?’ he said. ‘Hit your head pretty hard in the fall. Your helmet caught most of the impact and took most of the damage, but-’

His voice trailed off and Cato immediately glanced into the rest of the room again, her eyes finding- well, what remained of her motorcycle helmet, sitting on top of the desk in the corner.

‘You got lucky, kid.’

Wouldn’t be the first time.

A sharp exhale left her nostrils as she redirected her attention to Vitali, who had not taken his eyes off her for even a second; alert, still, perhaps waiting for her to do something now that she was no longer held down by the handcuffs and the cord in her neck. Their gazes met in the middle, and he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees as he tilted his head in a questioning manner.

‘You were calling out for me, when my mercs found you,’ he said and Cato instantly lowered her gaze again, glad the monitor beside her no longer showed her heartbeat. ‘Said you needed to speak with me.’

‘I need protection,’ she cut him off, turning on the bed to let her feet dangle down and she placed her hands on either side of her body, shoved underneath her thighs.

‘I can work. Do gigs for you, provide security- hell, you’ve done your homework. Seen my resume. Whatever you need, can get started whenever, just- I don’t think I can stay ahead of ‘em for much longer.’

Oh, how she hated to admit it.

Had done fine for months- but she was tired, slipping up left and right, and Kang Tao had not given up on her just yet for whatever fucking reason and it was driving her up the walls. She had no idea if her old squad was still out there, if they were even still alive; and had no way to check it either, each and any attempt to reach out a risk for all parties involved.

‘Endurance hunting,’ Vitali said, a sudden sharp edge to his voice that had not been there before. ‘Running you to exhaustion- minimal effort for them over a longer period of time, while your whole life falls apart around you until there’s nothing left and you are right for the taking. They’re good at that.’

‘Sounds like you know what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Better than you can probably imagine.’ He paused, jaw slightly clenching as he straightened his back. ‘It’s a good thing you decided to reach out. I think we can help each other.’

Not the first fixer Cato had spoken to- but the first to not tell her no. His words slowly settled in her brain and the look on her face must have told him enough, because he merely smiled in return and slowly stood up again.

‘Go home, for now,’ he said, the rings around his irises lighting up bright blue as a location in the north of Wellsprings popped up in Cato’s view. ‘Get some rest. Visit my office when you are feeling better, and we will get you relocated to a safehouse and discuss business, yes? Vik- You can put the costs on my tab.’

‘One step ahead of you, Vito.’

‘Full price, this time, I hope?’

‘Eh- returning customer discount.’

‘I’ll…allow it this time.’

Cato was no longer listening to them, a strange sense of relief washing over her to the point she suddenly noticed just how exhausted she was. All her muscles were sore- and even with the painkillers she had probably already gotten she could still feel the heavy thrumming in the back of her head, constantly threatening to move closer.

Months of uncertainty, of being alone; and it was all finally going to change, and hopefully for the better. Cato did not know much about how Vitali Dobrynin worked, but his surprisingly charming attitude and his treatment of both her and the old ripperdoc were already a lot more promising than what she had seen from many others before him.

Perhaps it would all be over now. Perhaps Kang Tao would finally give up, finally leave her alone, perhaps she would no longer have to be scared to get taken back in- to get tortured, and killed, if they would even show her that kind of mercy after everything that had happened.

Perhaps she could finally be safe, now.

Cato had not felt safe in months.

She could no longer tell where it had gone wrong. Too much time had passed, too many parties involved; and frankly, at that point it mattered very little who was to blame. She understood why Vitali also didn’t know what to do anymore- he was grasping at straws, but so was everyone else.

But now things were starting to get seriously out of hand.

Hurried pace through the hallway, combat gear on and gun holstered and at the ready. Another day, another tragedy; another citywide mercenary attack traced back to the Broker, yet the man himself once more stayed out of the spotlights like he always did.

Yet something was wrong about it all.

Prior incidents had all had a clear purpose; taking away their resources, exhausting them, rising tensions in town and in the Council and attempting to frame Vitali as the big bad behind it all. Weeks of planning, carefully thought out moves- like some fucked up, intricate game of chess.

Man, the fucking irony.

Yet this time it had come entirely out of nowhere.

And Matvey’s mercenaries merely seemed to be out for blood.

‘Hey-! Cato, wait.’

Cato had almost reached the elevators, but she stopped in her tracks and turned around, heart skipping a beat upon spotting the source of the voice behind her; Lauren, running after her and easily catching up only to drag her in for a hug, arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and hand on the back of her head.

‘Forgot to say goodbye, was in a hurry,’ Cato sheepishly said, Lauren’s hand gently running through her hair and moving to her face to cup her cheek. ‘You on runner duty today?’

‘W-What? I- Yeah, I am, but-’

Lauren’s voice got caught in her throat and she looked up again, a worried frown decorating her brow as her eyes trailed over Cato’s face and her thumb softly ran over her lips.

Cato didn’t know what to say.

Her brain was stuck in work mode; it left very little space for any distractions, and as much as Cato loved her girlfriend she found herself completely at a loss for words, eyes briefly wandering off as she slightly leaned in to Lauren’s touch and took a hesitant step closer to her.

And in response, Lauren leaned down and kissed her, the scent of her cologne mixed with a hint of coconut from her shampoo wrapping around Cato like a warm blanket, as if the two of them were safely at home rather than in the hallway of Vitali’s office, preparing to make dinner together instead of preparing to put their lives on the line once more in an attempt to regain control of the situation out in the streets.

Cato stood on her tiptoes and kissed Lauren back, grabbing the edges of her jacket to tug her closer and she could feel the corners of Lauren’s mouth turn up into a small smile.

Oh, how she had missed the quiet moments with her; they’d had some time, between all the chaos, but with both of them focused on work and the constant threat hanging above their heads it had been difficult to fully find some time for themselves.

They had wanted to move in together at the start of the year.

Cato still lived alone, now.

‘Be careful out there, okay?’ Lauren quietly said, her lips brushing past the bridge of Cato’s nose before she kissed her forehead, lips lingering on her skin a lot longer than necessary.

‘I’m- so good at that,’ Cato replied and wrapped her arms around Lauren’s waist. ‘Powerhouse. Unkillable, even.’

‘Holding you to that.’

‘As you should! As you fuckin’ should.’

She smiled when a quiet giggle left Lauren’s chest and she hid her face in Cato’s neck, carefully wrapping her arms around her again and nearly lifting her from the ground.

‘You be careful in there, too,’ Cato hummed in her ear and gently ran her hand through her girlfriend’s curls. ‘Wanna come home to you, ‘kay? Alive.’

‘And you will, baby. Alive and well.’

And with that, they finally parted ways, Cato glancing over her shoulder one last time and smiling at Lauren before quickly stepping into the elevator and mashing the button of the garage until the doors closed- but she kept going just a little longer, even when the elevator was already on the move, as if the action would keep the tears welling up in her eyes from rolling down her cheeks.

Cato knew like no one else their jobs came with risks.

She had always been a risk taker- largely calculated decisions but with an uncertainty or two that would make most mercs reconsider their options. Cato was too confident for that; or too stubborn perhaps, if you’d ask her friends, but either way she knew what she was doing and she knew how to clean up her messes like no one else.

She sucked in a deep breath and glanced at herself in the mirror of the elevator, quickly grabbing a hair tie from her wrist to pull her black and pink hair into a tight ponytail to get it out of her face. The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened- but she lingered inside just a little longer, expression blank and eyes fixed on her own reflection.

Hope I can get some sleep tonight. Looks like I fuckin’ need it.

The garage was surprisingly crowded, several squads getting ready to try and get a grip on the situation outside. Cato left the elevator and quickly pushed her way through the crowd to the other side, until she reached Mikhail, Eddie and Vincent, waiting for her next to one of their armored vehicles.

‘Everyone ready?’ she asked, hopping on her tiptoes and sinking back to her heels as she nodded at the car.

‘Almost,’ Mikhail responded and clicked his tongue, not moving away from his position against one of the pillars of the garage. ‘Waiting for one more.’

‘One more- seriously? Bit crowded for one car, don’t you think?’

‘Would you prefer for me to sit on the roof, then?’

The sudden voice from behind her caused Cato to freeze and Vitali walked around her, fastening the clip of his chest armor as he gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. A soft scoff left her lips in return and she quickly averted her gaze to the ground.

‘Alright, listen to me!’ Vitali shouted, causing silence to instantly wash over the room and everyone’s heads to turn in his direction.

‘We don’t know exactly what is going on, just got eyes on important locations they’re attacking,’ he continued. ‘Lauren is pinging you the hotspots, report back to her once everything is dealt with. Panam- I want you and your squad to follow us.’

‘Where to?’ Panam asked.

‘Afterlife. Rogue called.’

Well, that can’t be good.

Cato slowly wandered over to the passenger seat while everyone got on the move, head completely elsewhere. She did not know Rogue like Vitali did, or Vincent- but she knew her well enough to know she was not one to ask for help, more than capable enough to deal with situations such as this one herself.

‘It’s chaos out there,’ Eddie said as they climbed onto the backseat on the left side of the car, next to Vincent who was sat in the middle. ‘Bet they already got eyes on us.’

‘I do not doubt it.’ Vitali buckled his seatbelt and started the car, slightly adjusting the rearview mirror before starting to make his way outside the garage. ‘V- Are you alright?’

‘Yep,’ Vincent quickly answered, though Cato could hear how strained his voice was. ‘Peachy.’

Deafening silence washed over the car and Cato glanced in the side mirror to look at Mikhail, who merely stared straight out of the window with no readable expression on his face.

Trouble in paradise?

Not the right time to ask.

The sun already hung low on the horizon, leaving the city in warm orange and pink light; yet smoke lingered in the air from a nearby fire, rapidly threatening to get entirely out of control due to the heat and drought. Not an uncommon occurrence during Night City’s summers- despite the vastly different current circumstances- and Cato quickly took a mask out of the dashboard locker to cover her nose and mouth.

The streets were still busy, as they always were; though Vitali appeared unbothered by it as he swiftly maneuvered between all the other vehicles on the road, hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel.

He was stressed.

Of course he was- Cato was too, heartbeat like a drum in her chest and breathing shallow behind her mask. She let her gaze carefully trail their surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary-

Bingo.

Through the side mirror she could easily spot the heavily armored Arasaka SUVs closing in. Entirely out of place in the otherwise still relatively calm Wellsprings; and when someone leaned out of one of the windows, dressed in makeshift armor and holding some sort of customized assault rifle, Cato knew exactly who they were dealing with.

‘Behind us!’ she yelled over her shoulder and quickly reached for the control panel between herself and Vitali- grabbed the cord of the car’s systems while Eddie and Mikhail both opened their windows to lean out and shoot at their pursuers, and plugged it in the slot in her neck after a deep inhale.

She was never going to get used to it.

Vision going dark instantly, despite being wide awake and having her eyes open; it never failed to trigger her fight or flight response, body instinctively taking the sudden loss of vision as a direct attack, and nausea washed over her as she tightly gripped the edges of her seat to not lose her balance.

It settled quickly when her vision returned to her; though not in her own body but in a drone deployed from the underside of the car instead, and it slowly emerged from underneath as Cato gained control over its movement.

Mostly intuitive, but disorienting- Cato had done it enough times to no longer randomly lose control of the drone because of concentration loss, but it had happened one too many times in the past. Too worried about her surroundings, worried about getting killed, or getting disconnected too early; or she would think too hard about how to steer the drone, actions that would otherwise come naturally to her in her own body.

She relaxed in her chair as the drone flew up into the air and circled above their car, to assess the situation down below; three cars in pursuit, one of them trailing behind a little as it appeared to be in combat with Panam’s squad.

But the other two were closing in quickly, switching lanes to try and flank the car on either side. Cato dove down with the drone, her hands intuitively moving up as she readied the two small SMGs installed in the bot- and without wasting any time she began firing, quickly maneuvering around the side of the car so she could get a clear shot on the tires.

One of the mercs took notice of her and fired at the drone, knocking it out of its course. Cato hissed a quiet fuck and readjusted its alignment, instinctively leaning to the side in her seat as well as if that would help. She took another sharp turn with the drone and positioned it in front of the car instead- and shattered the windscreen with ease, hitting the driver in the shoulder and chest several times and causing them to lose control of the wheel.

The car rammed into the guardrail, causing Vitali to be forced to hit the brakes and swerve around it. An involuntary yelp left Cato’s lips as she nearly lost her balance, despite being sat down- hands desperately reaching around to find any support until Vitali suddenly grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, pulling it closer to the wheel so he could keep driving.

The drone had lingered behind a bit in the brief moment of panic and Cato quickly turned it around to get it back within shooting range. The second car was still close; now positioned slightly ahead of them on the driver’s side, and Eddie was attempting to get one of the tires to pop.

Cato activated the boosters on the underside of the drone to speed it up and dove down once more, positioning it underneath the Arasaka SUV. She carefully deployed an explosive and stuck it right between the two front tires- then slowed down and steered the drone back to their own car.

‘Turn right!’ she yelled, and the second she felt the motion of the car switching direction- and saw it happen through the camera attached to the drone- she detonated the explosive, causing the SUV to get blasted from the road and catch fire mid-air before landing on its side.

‘Preem work, Cato,’ Lauren’s voice suddenly popped up in Cato’s earpiece. ‘Taking control of the drone now- you can disconnect.’

‘Thanks, baby,’ Cato replied and quickly let go of Vitali’s hand again to disconnect the cord; she had to blink a few times to regain control of her vision, Kiroshis briefly struggling to focus on what was in front of her.

‘More of ‘em closing in as we speak,’ Lauren continued, and Cato rolled down her window to be able to lean out of it as well. ‘Four vehicles approaching from the east. Cato, Mish- get ready.’

She had not even finished her sentence when the vehicles in question skidded around the corner on Cato’s side of the car, one of them cutting the curb and nearly ramming into a food stand as the driver struggled to stay in control of the wheel. Cato drew her gun and charged up a power shot- released the trigger and the bolt of energy hit the front car right above the grill, sparks flying off the point of impact as the hood of the car flew open and obscured the windshield.

She charged up another shot as she let Mikhail deal with the now vulnerable and exposed car, a small smirk taking shape on her face when dark smoke followed by flames-

Followed by an explosion that knocked her back into her seat, seatbelt cutting into her skin and flesh and head forcefully snapping back causing a cry of pain to leave her lips. She released the trigger of her gun and the projectile got freely launched into the air, managing to hit one of the other cars’ side mirrors on its path.

‘Blyat- They’re flanking us!’ Vitali yelled from beside her and suddenly Cato’s gun was no longer in her hand, taken by the fixer as he leaned out of his own window to assist Eddie in taking down their pursuers. Cato cursed and grabbed the wheel, only just able to get the car back in its own lane- then cursed again when the cars in front of them slowed down for a traffic light and she swerved around them onto the lane on their right, grabbing the back of Vitali’s chest armor to make sure he wouldn’t fall out of the window.

‘This is a horrible fucking idea, boss!’ Cato screamed, wincing as the car rammed into a line of traffic cones, each of them flying over the windshield and landing somewhere behind them scattered all over the road. She took a sharp turn right, only vaguely remembering the route to the Afterlife- but with that cut off one of the other vehicles and it rammed their backside, causing the car to skid around and come to a full stop in the middle of the intersection.

‘Putting ‘er in reverse, hold on!’ Cato yelled and yanked on the steering wheel, slapping Vitali’s knee to make him put all his weight on the gas. Her eyes rapidly scanned the control panel again and she mashed some buttons- until she found the one that added an additional layer of bulletproof glass over the windshield.

She turned around on her seat, holding out her free hand to Vincent to pull him in; he quickly climbed over her and joined her in the passenger seat, leaning out of the window to shoot at the cars now all positioned right in front of them while Cato kept an eye on the road through the back window.

‘What the fuck are you guys doing?’ Lauren asked, genuine confusion audible in her voice.

‘Don’t even worry about it,’ Vitali replied, sitting back down in his seat to reload and wincing when some gunfire hit the side mirror and with that nearly his shoulder. ‘Cato is a fantastic driver.’

‘Cato would love to be in the fucking driver’s seat for that next time round!’ Cato roared in response, reaching over to drag both Eddie and Mikhail back into the car one by one before reaching back to grab Vincent by the arm and give the steering wheel another spin with all the strength left in her body, to position the car back in a forward position on the road.

Vitali hit the gas again and Cato reached up to adjust the rearview mirror, a sharp exhale leaving her body when she noticed two cars still in pursuit. Panam’s squad was no longer on sight- probably took another turn somewhere, to deal with more mercs, or to make use of a shortcut.

‘We have to get across bridge,’ Vitali said, nodding to the road up ahead. ‘Get back on highway and turn left- we get rid of them there.’

‘Yessir,’ Cato said, slightly relaxing against Vincent’s body. ‘Heads up, they’re closin’ in.’

Not her first car chase, by far- but Cato hated all of them, and for good reasons. Her breathing was shallow behind the mask, hairs on her arms standing up straight as she took the turn onto the highway, toward the bridge; a wide open space, both an advantage and a disadvantage at the same time.

Vitali accelerated and Cato repositioned herself on her seat, readying herself to maneuver between the vehicles up ahead. Eddie, Mikhail and Vincent leaned out of their windows again, opening fire on the Arasaka SUVs in pursuit; but Vitali seemed to be waiting for something, eyes carefully scanning the road before slowly but surely leaning out of his seat, aiming his gun at something ahead of them.

Cato instantly realized what he was going to do.

‘Is that a good idea?’ she asked, raising her voice a little to be audible over the gunfire as she steered around a few cars.

‘No,’ Vitali replied, ‘but when have I had any good ideas lately?’

And with that, he opened fire on the tires of an NCPD vehicle driving diagonally in front of them, effectively causing the driver to lose control of the wheel. Cato clenched her jaw and moved in, cutting the car off and causing them to swerve to the side- and both Arasaka SUVs rammed right into it, causing it to flip on its side and come to a stop in the middle of the road.

‘Easy,’ Vitali said, sitting back down and taking the wheel from Cato again. His voice was a few octaves higher than usual.

‘Well, that takes care of that,’ Lauren said. ‘Cut their communication, no backup en route currently. Dunno how long I can hold them off, though.’

‘Just do what you can,’ Vitali replied. ‘We will be arriving shortly anyway- NCPD would be stupid to try and enter Afterlife.’

‘They could send MaxTac.’

‘For the sake of this conversation, let’s pretend they don’t exist.’

Everyone remained quiet for the rest of the car ride. Vincent crawled back onto the backseat and Cato closed her window again, heartbeat settling down only a little bit as she took her gun back from Vitali and put the safety back on. She was waiting, still- waiting for more of them to show, or waiting for Lauren to warn for incoming backup-

But much to her relief, nothing else happened.

The silences after combat were always the worst to her.

Cato’s brain often needed a moment to catch up, body still alert and ready to jump back into the fight if necessary- but in those quiet moments it would often all come crashing down on her, realization kicking in to the point she would be more aware of the pain in her body and the taste of blood in her mouth than she would be of her own heartbeat.

She relaxed in her seat, eyes carefully trailing the roads surrounding them as Vitali continued their way to the club. It was getting darker and darker; street lights turning on around them and the neon lights and signs of Watson turned the streets into colorful hazes of distractions, marking the beginning of the city’s nightly life.

The entrance of the Afterlife was a mess.

Cato hopped out of the car before Vitali could even bring it to a full stop and she readied her weapon again while carefully scanning the parking lot. Cars stood scattered everywhere- two of them merely a chassis and still smoldering, dark smoke lingering in the stuffy evening air and obscuring her view.

She stayed low to the ground, biting the inside of her cheek as she stepped over a couple of bodies- no idea who they belonged to- until she reached the front entrance of the place that once used to be a morgue; and by the looks of it was now reduced to that very same earlier functionality.

Another car arrived at the scene and Cato instantly turned, raising her gun- but noticed Mikhail raising his hand at her from the corner of her eye and waited, realizing soon enough the car belonged to them and was simply Panam and her squad.

‘Mikhail, stay out here with Panam,’ Vitali said, the usual strictness to his voice Cato was used to; though she could hear his exhaustion, the slightly pleading undertone seeping through his words, as if he was no longer sure whether or not his authority was still in place.

‘V, on me!’ she immediately said, raising her voice a little as she pulled her mask off her face. ‘Eddie, stick with the boss, take the back entrance. We’ll meet in the middle.’

‘Copy that. Lauren, you got a visual?’

‘Nix plugged the whole network, you’re on your own from here. Bet Matvey’s runner is tryna poke some holes- I’m stayin’ out of that.’

Cato’s gaze met Vitali’s-

And for a brief moment she could barely recognize him.

The sudden defeated look in his eyes, a stark contrast with only minutes ago when they had been back on the road; demeanor similar to that of a kicked puppy and the gratitude and relief spilling from the expression on his face suddenly made her realize how vulnerable her friend was.

He had always been different from other fixers to her.

Had been the first one to open his doors to her, let her in- and he had offered her a safehouse, protection, things he did not have to do yet did anyway from the kindness of his heart.

‘We’ll figure this out,’ Cato said, loud enough for everyone on the parking lot to hear- yet she was talking to one person directly, eyes still fixed on his face as she spoke and he gave her a weak nod in response, rapidly blinking a couple times before looking away and following Eddie around the building.

Cato inhaled deeply, taking a moment to regain her composure as she pulled herself out of her head and turned to Vincent, who gave her an affirming nod in return. The two of them quickly entered the building through the main entrance, already able to hear gunfire coming from within while descending down the stairs. Security turrets snapped into their direction the moment they turned the corner- but did not fire upon seeing who was entering, and they both did a quick wave at one of the security cameras before quickly running inside.

The interior of the Afterlife was similar to its current exterior, bodies and debris scattered around- some sort of explosion, perhaps- and several tables had been overturned, used by mercs and clients as cover in what appeared to be the final moments of a gunfight.

Cato made a run for the bar and jumped over it with ease, taking cover behind it as she carefully assessed the situation; she recognized some of the mercs as Rogue’s and could easily tell the remainder of the Broker’s mercs apart from everyone else- makeshift armor, cobbled together from what they had been able to find at the abandoned Arasaka facility as well as their own supplies.

She steadied herself on the countertop and fired a few shots in their direction, most of them bouncing off the wood and metal of the tables and chairs- but it did what she was hoping for, getting the mercs agitated enough to attempt to fire back and with that exposing themselves to the lines of fire of everyone else in the club, soon enough leaving the ringing in Cato’s ears as the only noise filling the space around her.

‘Everyone still in one piece?’ Rogue’s voice echoed from the other side of the club. Cato slowly stood up and quickly glanced around until she found Vincent- not too far away from her, giving her a thumbs up the second she looked in his direction.

More gunshots sounded from the hallways further into the building. Cato turned and finally noticed Rogue- emerging from behind a pillar, hair tied back to keep it out of her face and some blood splattered across her cheek and jaw- and watched her march into the direction of one of the doors, only for it to bust open before she could reach it.

Vitali tumbled inside, two mercs attacking him at once and one of them attempting to slit his throat; Cato instantly lunged forward over the bar to close the distance between herself and the scuffle on the floor, but before she could do anything Rogue pulled out a gun and fired- two rapid, loud gunshots, two dead bodies, and Vitali yelped as he pushed them both off himself and scrambled back to his feet as fast as he could.

‘We clear?’ Rogue asked, glancing up when Eddie too entered through the door, and Vitali quickly nodded in response as he straightened his back and pushed back his shoulders while rapidly scanning the room- found Vincent and Cato, and he visibly relaxed again.

Thought Matvey didn’t want Vitali dead?

‘Nix says there’s more on the way,’ Rogue continued, speaking loud enough for everyone inside to hear as she took a few steps back to look around. ‘Including MaxTac. Which I can only describe as an unpleasant fucking surprise.’

‘Probably best if we delta,’ Vincent immediately said, hints of a grimace on his face as he shared a nervous look with Cato. ‘Let them- you know. Fight it out.’

‘Where to?’

‘Whe- Uh. Boss?’

‘Safehouse.’ Vitali paused to lick his lips. ‘Rancho Coronado, should be abandoned. Enough space for all of us, for now. Regroup there?’

‘Preem, lead the way. And, hey- you owe me an explanation, Dobrynin.’

‘Let’s get out of here alive first, yes?’

There was not much to explain, from Cato’s point of view. They hadn’t figured out what was going on still- did not know what Matvey was trying to achieve with any of this, and frankly, it had gotten to the point where trying to find an ulterior motive was more pointless than attempting to make sense out of his weird revenge fantasy in the first place.

She lingered behind a little with Vitali while everyone began making their way back outside, eyes once more trailing the interior of what remained of the Afterlife. It wouldn’t be the first time a gunfight had taken place inside- though she doubted it had ever gotten that bad before, and already feared for the consequences the Council would decide on were they to catch wind of all this.

Problem for later. Got more pressing matters at hand.

Reinforcements had shown up outside in the meantime and Cato instantly snapped back to reality, following Eddie and Vincent around the burnt out car chassis to put more distance between themselves and their enemies. She crouched down, moving around the both of them to get to Panam- kneeled next to one of their other mercs, bleeding from their shoulder.

‘Wound’s superficial!’ Panam yelled over the noises around them. ‘But we gotta get ‘em out of this heat!’

Cato glanced over the concrete road barrier they were sat behind; several vehicles blocked the only road out of the parking lot, and there was no way of safely getting past them without having to abandon their own cars in the process.

She turned back- eyes frantically scanning both Panam and the other merc until they landed on two grenades attached to their belt. She snatched them off and hopped over the barrier, trailing along the side of the parking lot to stay out of sight as she slowly moved closer to get a better angle.

And once she was close enough, she pulled the pins out of both grenades without hesitating and hurled them at the cars of the Broker’s mercs, covering her ears and withdrawing herself back behind the corner of the wall as the double explosion rattled her bones and caused the ground below her feet to shake.

She stayed in her position, waiting until her heartbeat had settled down; waiting for the pained screams and cries to die down, waiting for the gunfire to end, waiting for her nose to become used to the smell of burnt flesh- or for her brain to successfully convince her someone was simply throwing a barbecue just around the block, and there was nothing else to worry about.

‘Everyone, move out!’ Rogue yelled when Cato finally lowered her hands- and a humming noise somewhere above them instantly caught her attention, a sudden breeze picking up, and she turned her head to sky to-

Another explosion blasted her straight off her feet and she fell backwards, back hitting the wall and everything momentarily went black before she was suddenly face down on the ground. She tried to push herself back up on her elbows, grunting as the muscles on the left side of her body painfully protested-

And with that she was yanked back on her feet though not in the friendly manner she had been hoping for and a heavily armored figure appeared in her view, holding a heavy handgun firmly pressed against her forehead.

MaxTac.

But Cato was fast.

Smacked the weapon aside before they could pull the trigger on her and forcefully grabbed the helmet to yank it off their head, spinning 360 degrees before slamming it into the MaxTac agent’s face at full speed. Her arms were grabbed from behind and she was pulled back, one hand reaching up to grab a handful of her hair and drag her along, away from her friends-

But then she was on the ground again, a large boot kicking her in the face and her vision faded away once more for a couple of seconds. She blinked, coughing and wincing in pain as she noticed a tall figure hovering over her and they grabbed her hand to pull her back up on her feet.

‘Hey- Get up. Can’t have you dying on me now.’

Mikhail’s voice was soft, yet somehow the only thing Cato could hear as she suddenly struggled to realize where exactly she was; as if the two of them had been sent years back in time, back to when they used to work together- before Cato ran off with Kang Tao and Mikhail went to work for Arasaka instead-

Still difficult to believe, sometimes, that he had been part of the reason Kang Tao had started to hunt her and her squad down.

‘Wasn’t planning to,’ Cato quietly replied and gave him a small smile in return, allowing her friend to ruffle her hair before they both crossed the parking lot to get around the now empty MaxTac aircraft back to the car.

Let’s get the fuck out of here.

‘Get a medkit!’

‘Alright, sit down, careful-’

‘Misha? Catch.’

‘Someone bring me some towels!’

Vitali slowly followed the others inside the abandoned house in southern Rancho Coronado, lingering behind just a little longer as his gaze moved over the empty streets one final time. In the clear, for now- yet he remained alert, gun still in his slightly shaking hand as he dragged himself through the entrance hall and the living room to the other side of the house to sit down on a stool in the kitchen next to the large glass door leading to the backyard.

His leg and forearm were burning.

He’d forgotten to take any painkillers before departure.

The merc’s injuries were superficial and nothing Mikhail could not fix; just another day at work and one of the risks of their line of work. But the panicked sounds surrounding him, of his friends running around looking for more supplies, Panam nearly running right into him on her way to grab more towels, people getting weapons ready and sharing ammo with each other while preparing for yet another thorough perimeter check-

Vitali’s eyes fluttered shut.

And for a brief moment, it was entirely quiet around him.

The black void swallowing him whole was comforting, in a way; a cool patch of shade on a scorching hot summer day, a gentle breeze on a balcony overlooking the ocean, a wild river dragging him down by his feet until his entire body was submerged.

He often found himself standing there, in the dark- wondering. Wondering when it would end, when he would regain control again; wondering what else was left there for him; wondering what else he could say, if a half-assed apology would be enough to save him this time.

And all he would get in response was silence.

Strange, how that worked- to crave something he feared so deeply at the same time, to want something he knew he could not have without losing himself in the process.

And with that, the noise returned to him, panicked screams and cries and sobs and the feeling of hands grabbing his wrists and tearing at his clothes and clawing at his face, nails and teeth drawing blood, like hungry wolves feeding on a deer’s carcass-

He knew what dying felt like.

‘Hey.’

V’s voice had always been strangely soothing to him. Like a gentle kiss on a bruise- a voice that could cause his heartbeat to settle down even in the most stressful of moments.

But Vitali could not open his eyes.

Could not bear to look at him- what would he even say? After everything that had happened and everything that was happening around them now; he would only end up digging himself deeper into that hole, as stubborn as he was, unable to accept his defeat.

A quiet sigh left his lips when V gently cupped his cheeks, thumbs running over his skin as he gently tilted his head a little to the side.

‘You’re bleeding,’ he quietly said, and Vitali finally allowed himself to open his eyes, watching worry spilling from the expression on the merc’s face as he carefully moved his fingers to just behind Vitali’s ear.

‘It’s nothing serious,’ Vitali merely responded, holstering his gun and reaching up to push V’s hand away, but V dodged him and instead tried to tilt his head further.

‘I said-’

‘I heard you. Let me take a look.’

‘V-’

‘Vincent.’

A short pause, and Vitali sucked in a shallow breath.

‘Please.’

Vincent.

Vitali held his breath, heart skipping a beat as a weirdly comforting fog in his head blocked everything else out and caused him to only see what was right in front of him. He slowly scanned V’s face as his head was once more tilted to the side- no sign of sarcasm, no sign of discomfort, or hesitance.

Their gazes met; and V shot him a small, encouraging smile, lower lip trembling slightly as he did.

And with that, Vitali finally allowed Vincent to assess the damage, a wave of relief washing over him as he closed his eyes again and briefly pressed his lips against the bloodied palm of his boyfriend’s hand.

The carnage at the Afterlife had taken its toll on him, a lot more than he had initially expected. Something had caused the harsh reality of it all to fully kick in there- and they had learned nothing, other than the fact that apparently Matvey’s mercs were now taking a completely different approach.

Vitali involuntarily clenched his jaw and sucked in a deep breath, the memory of the two heavy bodies on top of him creeping back into his mind- the knife that had only been inches away from his throat- Ravager’s hands wrapped tightly around his neck-

‘Is anyone here gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?’

Rogue had walked over to the two of them and stopped right next to Vitali the moment he looked up again, hands on her hips and a mostly unreadable expression on her face- though he did not need to ask to know she was fucking furious.

‘Genuinely wish I could,’ he answered, flinching lightly when Vincent dabbed the wound behind his ear with a wet towel. ‘Attack came out of nowhere, I don’t think any of it was planned. No pattern, no motive- they tried to kill me, as you saw. That’s new.’

‘So your- the Broker is changing their strategy?’

Vitali clenched his jaw again, but did not answer.

He didn’t know what his father was attempting to achieve with any of this. It made no sense- had their last encounter finally caused him to stop fucking around, to stop wasting time? Had this been part of his plan all along?

Vitali swallowed heavily and pushed the thought out of his head. Anything was possible at that point, but he decided to choose to believe his father had better backup plans at hand. Whatever had happened, whatever it was that had changed- there had to be a logical explanation to it all.

‘Just gotta figure out where they’re stayin’, then we can get this over with,’ Vincent quietly said, glancing in Rogue’s direction before looking back at Vitali. ‘Whatever happens, happens.’

He was right.

Vitali closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply, a strange knot settling deep within his stomach as he realized what that meant. Whatever happens, happens- no way around it anymore this time, nothing else left to do or say. No more grasping at straws; nothing left within his reach.

All he had wanted for himself, was a happy ending.

Selfish, in hindsight, to wish that for himself after getting so many other people caught up in the crossfire. Stupid of him to think that his father would stop, naive of him to think that he could get his family back after everything that had happened between them, after all their years apart.

Vincent cupped his cheeks with both hands and left a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth- I know, baby, I know- and it only then dawned on Vitali a tear had escaped his eye and was steadily rolling down his cheek, Vincent’s thumb softly running over his skin to wipe it away.

Oh, how Vitali had hoped it wouldn’t have had to get to this.

He opened his eyes again and slowly let his gaze trail through the room. Most people had sat themselves down in the living room, everyone a bit calmer now that the mercenary’s injury was being looked after by Mikhail and weapons had been reloaded. Rogue slowly wandered away again too, redoing her ponytail while quietly mumbling to herself- just too quiet for him to hear what she said.

‘Boss-? Someone’s approaching the house!’

Vitali’s head snapped up toward the front door, a rush of adrenaline instantly waking him up again. He grabbed the gun in his holster, dragging himself from the stool and pushing past Vincent to get to Cato, who had called out for him. She briefly glanced over her shoulder, then readied her own weapon and kicked open the door, both of them stepping outside and aiming at-

‘Wait, wait, wait- Don’t shoot!’

Dusty?

Vitali froze.

It was unmistakably his ex mercenary, hands up in the air while he stumbled back a few steps, wide eyes focused on the guns pointed at his head. Vitali instantly lowered his own- and so did Cato, though she also walked closer without hesitation and used the butt of her weapon to smack Dusty in the head- hard.

‘You fucking cunt of a traitor!’ she yelled, stuffing her gun in her holster while grabbing one of his arms and forcefully twisting it behind his back.

‘Cato-’ Vitali said and raised his hand, but other than that did nothing to stop her and just stood motionless to the ground while Dusty sputtered and cried out in pain as Cato dragged him off the street, closer to the house.

‘You got some serious balls showin’ your ugly face here after everything!’ she snarled, pushing Dusty into the outer wall of the house and aiming her gun at him again. ‘I should shoot you where you stand!’

Vitali’s brain struggled to catch up.

He walked a little further into the street, eyes carefully scanning each and every corner; it was too dark for him to be able to see very far but everything seemed clear from where he stood, the only movement he could see coming from the corner of his eye, some of the others emerging from the house to see what was going on.

‘Check the perimeter,’ he heard Rogue say, and turned around again just in time to see a few mercs scatter and vanish into the dark, weapons at the ready- and then he realized everyone who was still there was staring directly at him, even Cato, a questioning look on her face and her gun pointed directly at a still whimpering Dusty, her hand slightly swaying from side to side.

‘Why are you here?’ he asked, slightly raising his voice as he walked back and straightened his back, regaining his composure within mere milliseconds. ‘No fucking around- give me something to work with or I’ll let Cato do whatever she wants.’

‘Sanders is dead,’ Dusty promptly replied, and he dropped his arms past his body, carefully lifting his head from the wall. ‘Your old man killed him. His mercs are out of fuckin’ control- out for your blood, they don’t care about no contract anymore.’

Oh.

Vitali stopped in his tracks, mouth half open as the words got caught in his throat and he exchanged a look with Cato as a sudden location in Charter Hill popped up in the corner of his vision.

‘They locked him up,’ Dusty continued, his voice low. ‘Usin’ every little bit of the supplies he keeps in that building to burn this entire city to a fuckin’ crisp- and they’re not gonna stop any time soon by the looks of it.’

Dead silence fell over the dark street.

Well, as silent as it could be.

If you listened closely you could hear it in the distance- vaguely audible over the light breeze and some distant music- the noises of what was going on downtown, sirens howling through the night sky and heavy gunfire rattling through the streets, not uncommon at all but far heavier than it usually was.

Vitali felt light-headed.

Unsure what to think of it all- unsure if he could even trust Dusty’s word- but the sheer panic and fear in the merc’s eyes said enough and he bit the inside of his cheek, heart beating heavily inside his chest.

They locked him up.

This is not his doing.

He promptly walked back inside, past all his mercs, past Rogue- avoiding eye contact with each and every single one of them as he ran up the stairs as fast as he could to reach the safehouse’s weapon storage. His heart was once again racing in his chest, ramming itself into his ribcage as the pain in both his leg and forearm flared up again.

Painkillers can wait.

The small closet wasn’t nearly as impressive as back at home or at his office, but Vitali didn’t care. It was enough to stock up on ammo- and all he was looking for anyway was the box of explosives, tucked away in the far right corner and hidden behind some shotguns.

Nothing too powerful, of course- there was no need to level the whole thing to the ground, no need to potentially harm innocent people in the somewhat impulsive act of destruction he was carefully planning out in his head. Merely enough to get rid of what was inside; wipe out the threat and get rid of every and any tool used by the mercs to keep their citywide onslaught going.

He closed the door of the storage closet with his hip and nearly walked right into Vincent and Rogue, the both of them having followed him upstairs and giving him a puzzled look before glancing down at the box in his arms, realization kicking in for the both of them at once upon seeing the explosives and the dangerous shimmer in his eyes.

‘Get everyone together,’ Vitali said, and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile.

‘Let’s go blow up a building.’

#nuclearwriting #rbs much appreciated :) <3 #it's all coming to a fucking end baybeeey #hope dusty doesn't feel like too much of a deus ex machina here. technically he's been relevant since chapter 1 so like. you know #was only a matter of time before his scrawny traitor ass would come running right back #ANYWAY. HEHE. much to think about much to yell about #lots of cato pov because i love my girl and also the way she observes situations is interesting to me #the car chase was so facking difficult to write. the rest of the action scenes too tbh but i was being very brave about it #the fact that the last sentence kind of implies that this will end similar to like. the canon in-game events #and also kinda similar to the end of the arasaka arc. and all of them being about arasaka in a way #idk it's interesting!!! it's like an endless cycle that the characters are stuck in. can you ever really get away from arasaka and all that #anyway let me know what you guys think of this one!! as always super excited to see everyone's thoughts >:^)#ch:the broker

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detectivewoof-a · 8 months ago

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Photo: a person at a book signing table with a matching photo by them

Prey drives were really never a thing for me until the day I realized who he was.

1980, I think it was. Finally scraped enough money to at least buy a cheeseburger, found a bussing job that didn’t ask too many questions about what I was doing in the US, I had thought I shaken them for good in the streets of Georgia. I had forgotten all about them, honestly, up until I woke up with a shotgun pointed at my face somewhere between Jackson and Atlanta and a bat cracking across my head.

Funny how that seems to happen a lot to me.

Woke up in someone’s apartment the next day, some guy and his wife saying they found me but couldn’t find enough ID on me to take me to the hospital. Made sense at the time, all I crossed the border with was a name in my head and a need to escape the ghosts that haunted me back home. My half-broken English probably made my thanks a little strange, but they were nice enough folk. Gave me some food, an ice pack, insisted I stayed until I felt like myself, didn’t really question why he had pamphlets for shelters ready...

In hindsight, I probably should’ve. In hindsight, sometimes instinct is worth it in the end.

I wasn’t used to nice, so it bothered me that they were so willing to take me in. And they both had a smell to them that was familiar. He never seemed to stop smelling like burning dirt and copper wires, while her hands held the musk of oleanders.

I didn’t think much about it until I read one of the pamphlets. Recruitment material, the fucking sun symbol plastered all over it the same as the bodies I left buried back in Guatemala. At the time I didn’t know if it was chance or if they thought they could turn me into a pet like Lydia and Marco but I... made them regret their kindness.

I still remember her screaming about how they didn’t know they’d find children in the desert. It was funny, because I hadn’t mentioned what happened. A guilty consciousness does make memories a little clearer, it seems.

They were easy to cut a deal with. They promised to supply me with anything I needed, that even their family would supply me without question. Anything to clear their minds about the children that cried for their parents on that day.

They were more than willing to sell out their own generations to escape their hell on Earth. Admittedly, I probably enjoy it a bit more than I should.

Even the boy was taught quickly. His forgeries were honestly better than the fucking fangs that gave me the papers in the first place. He’s skittish about the whole arrangement, which is good. I know he always wants to mention how he has nothing to do with whatever vendetta I have against his parents, but I know him well enough to know he wouldn’t dare. I know he’s hiding their location from me for that reason, taking their punishment upon himself.

But between you and me? If he knew what they did? He’d ask the Soul-Guide personally to lead them to the deepest corners of the Underworld.

#this is loosely tied to a brainrot i had #it might become A Thing #(translation: it's gonna be A Thing)#file intel on display «¤» ( factoids #i need a better tag for worldbuilding

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clairelsonao3 · 1 year ago

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Happy STS!

Someone finds your google history for your wip. How much trouble are you in?

Happy STS, Elli! Thanks for the ask!

Hell, I'm in trouble for my WIP WITHOUT anyone finding my Google history. 😂

But, yeah, okay, let's do this. For GSNBTR, off the top of my head:

Serious stuff:

First, obviously, numerous searches related to chemistry, physics, and engineering, including survivorship bias theory, i.e. the rocket thing (probably spent weeks on that alone), organic chemistry and the different methods for teaching it (yes, I downloaded textbooks), premed degree requirements, molecular orbital theory (yes, it's a real thing, I didn't just make it up), actual IRL mirror telescopes, how they're built, where they're located, and what they do, CERN and the large hadron collider, fog bows and the guy who discovered them, liquid nitrogen, how it's used and stored and its effects on chemical bonds, idk probably dozens of other topics ...

Every topic related to ancient practices of slavery one could possibly imagine -- everything from day-to-day treatment of slaves in Greece and Rome, how much it cost to buy and maintain slaves, slavery and the legal system, different types of tortures and punishments, the historical proportion of slaves to the free population, laws related to sex and gender, Partus sequitur ventrem, Aristotle vs. Seneca and the Stoic views on the nature of slavery and the soul, and yes, different types of historical manumission (stay tuned for more on that soon thanks to another ask ...😉) Some of this knowledge long predates my current WIP (I studied the classics, as I'm sure I've mentioned) but I needed to refresh my memory.

Literacy and the different methods and timeframes for teaching it as well as basic mathematical and scientific concepts and problems and how those are taught

Poetry and literature, in particular Shakespeare, Hugo, Plautus, Terence, Joyce, Yeats ... and the Bible.

Languages: Luxembourgish, French, German, and Spanish, in particular curses, slang terms, and colloquialisms, but also viewing/listening native speakers to get a feel for the accents and fact-checking everything through Google translate and online dictionaries (thank you, lod.lu!)

Various European countries' geography, economies, and politics, agriculture, cuisine, currency, etc.

Southwestern desert geography, flora and fauna (I lived there of course, but I still needed to make sure to get the details right)

The gambler's fallacy and the theory of scientific realism

Whumpy stuff:

1st, 2nd and 3rd-degree burns and their treatment

Use of cattle prods in torture and the difference between cattle prods and tasers

Handcuffs and shackles and how to escape from them (if they're put on correctly and you don't have the key, good luck)

Wound dehiscence, types of sutures, torn rotator cuffs and other arm injuries, how they're treated and how they heal

Videos of field medicine techniques

Photos and descriptions of scar tissue

Dozens of videos of street fights and descriptions of hand-to-hand combat techniques for people of different genders, sizes, and skill levels (tbh I probably spent longer on this than any of the science, because it does not come easily to me)

Whatever other injury anyone did or will suffer from, assume I looked it up (whether or not I decided to ultimately portray it accurately or not 😂)

Miscellaneous:

Microchipping in pets and how it might apply to humans, particularly their migration and potential removal, and the possibilities of real-time GPS tracking using them (there is a possibility, but right now this concept is still sci-fi)

Different car makes and models, how long they've existed, and how they're designed and driven

Different companies, pop culture entities, and brand names and specifically how long they've existed (if they began post-1950, I can't use them)

BDSM etiquette, safewords, etc.

Other spicy stuff, including the likelihood of multiple orgasms (YOU ASKED) 😂 and synonyms for common body parts and sexual terms just to help me be more creative (thank you, Ao3 Guide to Writing Smut)

Topics related to tech startups, finance, IPOs, mergers and acquisitions, etc., though I also use that in my day job ...

Astrological signs and MBTIs for my characters

The rules of golf 😂

Tons of stuff I'm forgetting

Yeah. I'm not sure what this hypothetical person viewing my search history would think of that, but they'd probably be concerned. Or intrigued, in which case they're my new BFF.

#sts #asked and answered #my writing #gsnbtr

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jc-lambert · 9 days ago

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Of Leslie Van Houten & Leslie Garver-Tatman

Now that she's been identified by everyone in Alcoholics Anonymous, who all my friends in New Orleans is at corporate war with: We might get to see some healing and move back to Emporia, where Zach Frankenfeldt would be shot in the head after his genitals where removed from his trunk. His family, Lesli (aunt, mom, perhaps both) is a big fat prison escapee whore of satan, who has to deal with repercussions of having a child who pissed Lucifer, Satan, and the Devil off too.

as well as Jesus. We love Jesus right? No we fucking don't. We love ruining the lives of everyone who has ever been in any form of attendance of school or forced American social interaction. We happen to enjoy dissing everyone we know by name and making it perfectly impossible for anyone to enjoy their lives.

The same way they've made it impossible for me to enjoy mine.

I would describe the male as a drug dealing pimp who put himself too heavily on my ability to read and attend highschool. He was a friend of Jacob Gillespie, NOT MINE. Who happens to be in prison for the murder of Red Gillespie, his dad or uncle or something. Too: narcotics. He was probably released on the same hack that delivered that WHORE CUNT BITCH SKAG @ 12 steps to Wichita Kansas. Vicky she calls herself. Lesli her name is.

Vicky Minor better still be alive, too Travis Heinz.

Gillespie has been released it states on the prison database. Lets commission the public rape torture and murder of his redheaded Irish bitch cunt ass while he's on the outs. What police officer wants a downtown Wichita Building? We will sign one over to have him anally raped and forced to slurp on a dead dog's penis. We want that on television closed circuit for USD 259 & 253 as well as global syndicated news with the warning "DO NOT PISS OFF THE AMERICAN GUNPOWDER INDUSTRY"

Lawrence, are bleeding liberals with their identities tied up in red tape by Manhattan. So they have to sit there and cry and defend me in therapy from everyone else homeless while I sit here in cold radiation designed to maximize my sperm count.

Perhaps I should visit K-State and take a trip down memory lane and visit nigger whore Ms. Brown at Job Corps. I've been kidnaped for a long ass time, I might be able to grace them with a visit. Let's make that nigger sit down in Wichita, and deal with the stress of owning 90% of their business buildings, and remind everyone that's an international resource in the middle of an Injun Reservation that NOBODY may use. [Italy has first dibs at policing the area & hunting down all the African Bitches Obama invited to our city. It's moreso mine than yours or ours: ain't it?]

Except for maybe the Duchess Kate. Her family are part Topeka. You know, Catherine Caesar of Wales.

She's the house of Windsor. Her daddy is a prince, quite the gent. We are in the middle of having his competition slapped around for being not so nice to she and he.

There: we just killed all the business in Wichita simply because everyone where such RABID CUNTS in highschool. Now where is my mommy dearest? Did all these CHRISTIAN JUNKIES KILL HER? Someone pull a hair follicle test on all these hippies and lets see what drugs they've managed to burn out of their piss tests. Wichita, will never be able to open another downtown business without a case of felony trespass and the establishment will always be at corporate war with the rest of the city and the suburbs in ways that kill people for driving autos or walking down the street being white, or black, or speaking Spanish or English.

I'm kidnapped. I'm located in Kansas.

Let me go check my Washington State foodstamp card. Ive bitched and griped to the entire state for so long: there's probably a 20$ note attached to a police call and a ride back to Vancouver.

#Life #People #Wichita #Wichita South High #98660 #Vancouver #USD 259

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newyorkstrategicpartners · 2 years ago

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Reflecting on Tragedy: A Visit to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York

On the morning of September 11, 2001, the world was forever changed when four commercial airplanes were hijacked by terrorists and used as weapons to attack the United States. The attacks resulted in the deaths of nearly 3,000 people and caused immeasurable pain and suffering for countless others. Today, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City stands as a testament to the lives lost and the bravery of those who responded to the tragedy.

As I entered the museum, I was struck by the solemn atmosphere that permeated the space. The walls were lined with photographs and quotes from survivors and victims’ families, and the sound of soft music played in the background. I felt a deep sense of reverence as I began my tour of the exhibits.

The first exhibit I encountered was titled “Before 9/11”. It showcased the vibrant and diverse culture of New York City in the years leading up to the attacks. I saw images of the city skyline, bustling streets, and smiling faces. It was a poignant reminder that the world was a very different place before the tragedy of 9/11.

As I moved through the museum, I came across a collection of personal items recovered from the wreckage of the World Trade Center. Seeing these objects up close was a sobering experience. There were shoes, wallets, and pieces of clothing that had belonged to those who perished. The items were accompanied by descriptions of the people they had belonged to, making the tragedy feel all the more personal.

One of the most striking exhibits in the museum was a replica of the Twin Towers. The towers were recreated using steel beams recovered from the wreckage, and the exhibit was a haunting reminder of the magnitude of the destruction that occurred on that fateful day. Looking up at the towers, I was overwhelmed by a sense of grief and loss.

As I continued through the museum, I encountered the heart-wrenching exhibits dedicated to the victims and their families. There were photographs of those who had died, along with personal stories from their loved ones. There was a wall covered in tributes and memorials left by visitors to the site. It was clear that the loss of life on 9/11 had touched countless people in profound ways.

One of the most moving exhibits in the museum was a video tribute to the first responders who had bravely risked their lives to save others. The video showed footage of firefighters and police officers rushing into the burning buildings, and the heroic efforts they made to help those in need. I was struck by the incredible courage and selflessness displayed by these men and women.

The museum also featured a section dedicated to the aftermath of the attacks. There were exhibits on the rescue and recovery efforts, as well as the impact the attacks had on the United States and the world. One of the most impactful exhibits in this section was a wall covered in newspaper headlines from around the world. Seeing how the tragedy had been reported on and interpreted in different parts of the globe was a stark reminder of the global impact of the attacks.

As I reached the end of my tour, I found myself standing in front of the 9/11 Memorial. The memorial consists of two large reflecting pools, each with a waterfall cascading down into the void where the Twin Towers once stood. The names of all the victims of the attacks are inscribed around the edge of the pools.

Standing there, watching the water flow and listening to the peaceful sound of the cascading water, I was struck by the sense of tranquility and serenity that surrounded me.

9/11 Memorial and Museum Video

youtube

9/11 Memorial and Museum Location

MEMBER SPOTLIGHT

Baobab Architects P.C.

8 W 126th St. 3rd floor, New York, NY 10027

(212) 433-2393

If you are looking for architects nyc

Our small business structure allows the Principal to closely participate on your project. He has been in business for 23 years, exposed to a lot of different types of projects in New York. Our objective is to provide maximum value to you by utilizing our expertise and experience. This means you can be confident that we will meet your expectations.

DRIVING DIRECTION

#9/11 Memorial and Museum #architects nyc #Youtube

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mustanggg · 2 years ago

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This one felt cute 🥰 🤭

Rick and I have been dating ever since the prison. Now in Alexandria we both share a house with Carl and Judith.

We have been going out for a while now. Things have always been great, we protected one another and consoled each other when we lost someone. Through thick and thin we both came out on the top, together, side by side.

Yet a couple weeks after discovering Alexandria Ricks behaviour started to worry me. I noticed how he’s withdrawn himself from me and Carl. Coming home late, crawling into bed way after I’ve fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. And every morning I wake up to an empty bed. I ached for him but he wasn’t there.

I had no idea what he was doing in the time span he was away. We always shared everything and worked through whatever came at either one of us, together.

Not this time. This time Ricks shouldered this unknown burden himself.

There was a party tonight. Everyone wanted to celebrate the birthday of Spencer. I didn’t see the point of going through the trouble for a big celebration but Rick had already confirmed us two would make an appearance.

I was annoyed that Rick gets to ignore me then says I’ll show up to the gathering without asking me first. Still I decided to make an effort on my appearance in hopes Rick sees what’s his missing and comes to his senses.

Slipping on a black dress that snugs all my curves perfectly and comes down to your knees I pad downstairs in search of Rick.

Yet I try to hide my disappointment when I only find Carl, whose not dressed up sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Hey, how come you aren’t dressed?” I questioned the Grimes son as I looked around for my heels.

“Hanging out with Enid,” his short reply came as I cried victoriously at the location of my black heels.

“Be responsible. Have you seen your father?” I asked.

Carl shook his head and I fought the uncalled anger bubbling up inside me. Wasn’t he going to walk you to Spencer’s house? “Oh okay, well if he comes by tell him I’m already at the party,” I call over my shoulder as I walk out the door.

Making my way down the street towards the Monroe house I meet up with Rosita and Abraham. “Hey,” I greeted as I fell into pace beside them. “Let’s get this over with yeah?”

Abraham preached as the three of you walked up the front porch stairs, knocking on the door to announce your arrival.

Opening the door Spencer’s eyes brighten as he saw you. “I’m so glad you could make it! You look absolutely beautiful,” he smiled as his eyes wandered over my body.

Smiling politely in return I stepped into the house, surveying the gathering of Alexandria’s mingling in search of Rick. I sighed in disappointment, hoping that he wouldn’t abandon me here when it was his idea to attend.

Quickly locating the table holding the booze I all but sped walked over to it, instantly downing a shot. I relished at the burning of the liquid. Wasting no time, I downed another two in quick succession, ignoring Abrahams reasoning to take it easy.

Seeing your determination to get plastered Rosita latched onto my arm and pulled me into the crowd to mind, despite my vocal protests.

She led me around the room introducing me to members whose names I’ve already forgotten.

Trying to manoeuvre my way back to the booze table, I was cut short when Spencer blocked my path. “Hi,” he greets cheerily.

Smiling up at him I try to move around him but he continues to block my path. Annoyed I spin around and find a corner that’s less crowded, all to aware of Spencer trailing after me.

“Not your kind of crowd?” He asks as he sips his drink, despite how rude it may come across I only grunt in response.

Spencer’s babbling off, reminiscing about his old birthday memories before the rise of the dead when I felt someone’s eyes on me. Looking around for the source my eyes lock with Rick and I feel the tension leak from my body, offering him a tentative smile that he reciprocates.

Eyes never straying from my boyfriends my feet move towards him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

That is until a beautiful blonde women approaches Rick and steps up into his space. Jealously rises in me as she steals his attention.

Unknown to you, Rick tries to politely end the conversation so he can make his way towards you to finally hold you in his arms after so long.

I pretended to listen to Spencer talk about his family, when in reality my mind never once shifted from Ricks. The way his attention instantly slid to that woman’s when she approached.

As Spencer begins to laugh, I threw my head back and laugh along with him although I had no idea what he was saying.

My eyes seem unable to leave Rick who’s in a deep conversation with the Alexandrian blonde. Jealousy bubbles in me. Yet I know it’s only a disguise for the hurt at the way he allows her to touch him.

I trusted Rick, I knew he wouldn’t cheat on me but my life before the dead starting walking kept that doubt in me.

Other boyfriends cheated on me, I’d given them everything and yet it hadn’t changed a thing. I knew Rick wasn’t like that but I couldn’t help the nagging fear.

“Sorry, Spencer. I really need some air,” I politely excuse myself as I begin to make my way out onto the front porch, avoiding any eye contact with Rick.

As I step out into the night air I finally feel as though I can breathe. Yet my moment of tranquility is interrupted when I hear a pair of familiar boots step out onto the porch with me.

“Hey,” Rick drawls, quietly, dare say almost hesitantly.

I ignore him as I admire the stars shining against the dark night. Irritation begins to boil when Rick continues to try to capture my attention.

“Everything okay? You seemed a little off when you left the gathering.”

As Rick steps up behind me, I feel my emotions boil over as I whirl around to face him.

“Are you serious?” I hissed out, trying not to make a scene. “I’m surprised you noticed when that blonde seemed to have you clinging onto her every word.”

Rick just blinks at me, confused and taken aback. When he doesn’t offer up any words I begin to stalk down the front steps, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed.

“Carls friends with her son. There’s nothing going on between us I promise-“

“Don’t,” I warn him, anger battling my tears as I cut off his excuses.

I didn’t want to listen to him try to defend himself. Making empty promises I was all too familiar with. Promises that meant nothing and never stopped them from repeating their actions.

“Just don’t. Don’t bother trying to crawl into bed whenever you decide to come home either,” I tell him at the bottom of the stairs.

I make out his furious gait as he strides towards me, grabbing my arm to force me to face him. “What about you and Spencer? Huh? I seen the way you laughed with him! As though he was soo interesting!”

“I was making my way to you! I haven’t seen you in so long, all I wanted was to spend the evening with you. Yet you seemed to prefer to have that bimbo hang of your arm!” I seethed as I ripped my arm from his grip.

“I work with Deanna, of course Spencer and I are going to friends. That’s all we’ve ever been and you would know that if you bothered to pay me any attention!”

I didn’t wait for a reply as I stalked away from, undeniably mad at the audacity of Rick throwing Spencer back in your face. As though I were the problem.

On my walk back to the house I shared with the Grimes, tears of frustration trailed down my face.

I tried to wipe them away when I unlocked the door, not wanting Carl to witness me in this state.

Yet at the discovery of the dark and quiet house I allow them to flow freely as I climb the stairs to our room.

I don’t even bother to change. Unbuckling my heels, they fall to the floor as I crawl into bed. New tears following the trail of the old.

I grab Ricks pillow, drawing it to my chest as I curl into a ball, hoping the darkness whisks me into a dreamless sleep.

Yet I wasn’t so lucky as I tossed and turned way into the night, my thoughts and emotions running rampant.

The argument that had ensued between Rick and I played like a record.

I began to feel as though I overreacted. My past got in the way of clear thoughts and my old fears brandished newly as I accused him, someone I wholly trusted.

I’d begun to make up my mind to apologise to him and explain to him tomorrow morning when I heard the front door open and close.

I held my breath as I listened to him pad around downstairs, organising his bed for the night.

Guilt rose again at the reality of not falling asleep beside him. Sighing I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed as I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable conversation.

As I padded down the stairs, I contemplated and replayed what I would say. How I could begin to make him understand my reaction.

“Rick?” I called out softly into the darkness, illuminated only by the moon shining in through the open blinds.

I heard the rustling of the blanket, encouraging me to step further into the living room. “Rick?”

“Yeah?” At his weary reply, I continued my journey to the couch. Sitting down beside him when he sat up to accommodate you.

“I’m sorry,” I began, palms sweaty.

“I overreacted. I didn’t mean to get so jealous. It’s just- my past relationships never ended well,” I tried to offer him a soft smile but found my lips uncooperative as I drug up the past.

“The recent one before the outbreak, I’d been so in love with him. Convinced he was the one I wanted to marry… except he wasn’t faithful.”

“I loved him more than he ever loved me. Loved him enough I didn’t read too much into the way he stayed out late. Welcomed the touch of other women at parties I accompanied him to,” I felt Ricks eyes on me.

“I overlooked a lot for love, until one night I finally caught him in bed with another woman. The way that girl touched you just reminded me of him, especially the way you didn’t nothing to fend her off.”

Ricks finger met my chin as he turned my head to face him. “Hey,” he whispered. “I tried to leave the conversation but she was so excited her son had another friend. Baby, I promise I have eyes for you, and you only,” he reassures me.

I saw the way his blue eyes burned brightly. The sincerity and honesty in them. I trusted this man, with my life. I pledged to myself that I’d grow to believe him.

“Okay,” I whispered before Rick leant forward and lightly pressed his lips against mine.

I felt relief blossom as Rick moved his lips against a mine, ever so softly. No rush. Just love igniting between the two of us.

When Rick pulled back, I felt myself become damp at the way he bit his bottom lip, eyes roving all over my face. Lust.

I climbed onto his lap, pushing him back into the couch as I latched onto his neck. Wanting to hear those delicious sounds that drove me wild but to also mark him for the other Alexandrian women to see.

Ricks hand grabbed onto mine thighs, massaging the exposed skin from my dress riding up as I bit down onto his neck before shooting it with my tongue.

A mewl slipped out to meet his groan as I sucked on his neck, brandishing his skin a dark red.

Abandoning his neck I reattached your lips as my fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing his back off the couch Rick slipped out of his button down, refusing to leave my lips.

My hands sprawled along his chest as I explored his skin, twirling his chest hair between my fingers.

Ricks hands fumbled to pull the dress over my head, discarding the forgotten fabric on the floor behind.

He separated from me to gaze down at my bare and flushed chest, gaze darkening as he took me in perched on top of him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, admiration coating his words.

I felt warmth fill my chest as I gazed back at the man who unknowingly held my heart in his hands.

I began to lift yourself off his lap, smiling softly when he started to protest and grab onto me.

Standing I started to slide my underwear down my legs, maintaining eye contact with Rick, whose eyes shone so bright in the moonlight casting down upon him.

Snapping out of his trance, Rick jumped into motion and unbuckled his pants, pulling them with his boxers down before he kicked them away from the couch.

“Come here, baby,” Rick beckoned me back into his lap softly.

When I settled back into my previous position, Rick kissed me again. I felt the urgency in the roaming of his hands but his lips were unhurried as they moved against mine.

There was no rush as I explored one another’s bodies, trying to feel as much of the others skin against my own.

Yet need began to build in anticipation at the feel of Rick, hard and pushing, against my stomach.

I pull back from him slightly, lifting my hips and grabbing ahold of him to hover above him.

The sight of Rick biting down on his bottom lip and gazing up at me through his long lashes pushes me down onto him.

Ricks eyes flutter close as I bottom out, sighing out in what sounds like a relief crossed with a groan. My own whimper slipping out to meet his as he stretches me.

“Jesus,” he groans out as he twitches inside me, as he hands knead my hips.

I lift myself up just to slide back down onto him, moaning out at the feeling of him. My pace never quickened as I savoured the feeling and sight of him beneath me.

“Rick,” I moan softly.

At that sound his eyes snap open and I squeal as he leans forward to wrap his arms around me to flip me over so he towers over me.

“I’m yours and you’re mine. It’s that simple,” he growls as he snaps his hips into mine.

I reach for him, plastering my lips against his as he molds his body onto mine. I loved the feeling of his body pressed all against me as he set a pace of hard but slow.

“Harder. Rick please,” I begged into his ear.

I lifted my leg to slip around his hip to better accommodate him and we both groaned at the feeling of him slipping deeper.

Ricks hips stuttered at the desperation I held for him but he obliged, slamming harder into me.

The sound of his throaty groans in my ear fueled the fire inside me

“Fuck. I’m… I’m yours baby, all yours,” he groaned as he bottomed out, slowly pulling out only to slam back into me.

I cry out when his brutal thrusts hit something inside of me that had me raking my nails down his back.

My voice reached a needier octave as Rick continued his assault on that same spot, lifting off me to hold himself above me.

He looked ethereal above me. The moon complimenting his ocean blue eyes as his bared his teeth.

The feeling of him slamming that special place and the sight of the sweat dripping from his curls plastered to his forehead, eyes fluttering every time he slammed his hips into mine had me shattering around him.

“Rick!” I screamed out as my back arched and stars exploded behind my eye lids.

Rick kept up his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm as I rode mine. “You’re.. fuck.. gonna make me come baby,” he groans out before he stills inside me.

I felt his hips slightly shake where he was pressed to me before he came undone, collapsing onto me as his whole body shuttered, riding out his high.

Sweat slicked bodies pressed against one another, I held him to me. Relishing in the weight of his body pressing against me.

@catt-leya so it took so long! 🤍

#rick grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes smut #twd smut #reader x rick grimes

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