#the part of the show when marcia did stand up for and with her friend

[wassupmygays]

"Marcia's always been one to speak her mind"

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SarahGrace Mariani as Marcia in The Outsiders

[walmartbrandwhatever]

continuing on with the pony died au imagine what happens with cherry. (some don't care about her, but i do!) I might turn this into a oneshot later, but heres me yapping bc the qpr server has me going crazy about Pony dying at the fountain au rn.

imagine that night cherry is in her room still trying to process her breakup with bob and trying to block out the smell of alcohol and the running water coming from the locked bathroom. she stuck laying in her bed just blankly at her ceiling tossing and turning when she hears a knock on her window. confused she pushes herself up and off her bed and grabbed the nearest object she cpuld find and pushed back her curtains to reveal her now ex boyfriend.

confused, she’s opens her window to a distressed bob who is rambling on about something, but it's inconceivable. shushing him quickly, she helps him into her room and closes the window behind him. she glances towards the door and prays her father doesn't walk in. not when he's drunk. sitting bob down on her bed, she tries to get him to tell her what happened. even though she had ended things, she still loves him, and she can't find it in herself to turn him away when he's in a state his in.

in the light she can now see the blood stained clothes and knuckles which makes her heart sink. another fight and part of her deep down wonders if it was ponyboy's blood. she can't being herself to sit down next to him so she just stands infront of him with her arms crossed. he goes on to describe the events that just took place and her heart is pounding in her ears. never once did she think bob would actually kill someone. she takes a few steps away from him as he stands up and steps towards her for any kind of comfort. this was not the man she had fallen in love with. this man- no this boy isn't bob Sheldon who would hold her as she cried over her parents. this wasn't bob Sheldon who would show her the truest bits of himself. this was the boy who drunk himself to sleep and got all his anger off on boys that didn't even look his way.

she tells him to leave even though it breaks her heart. she still loves Bob Sheldon but not this boy in front of her. not anymore.

his pleads eventually stop and he leaves her standing alone in her cold room that they had once found comfort I'm eachother. his arms no longer warm just cold and covered by the blood of a kid who wanted nothing more then to run off and watch sunsets. of a boy who just wanted the love from his brother who couldn't seem to catch a break. and she just wanted to curl up and cry.

ponyboy curtis was a boy who had come In to her life for a day and completely changed it. had showed her a side of the world she had been completely obvious to. part of her feels guilty because she had been the one to invite him and Johnny to sit next to her. she had been the one who had pissed bob off. she should have just gone with bob...

the next few days she was in and out of questioning. she answers truthfully but she knows the cops have never cared for the Eastside and she knows it's a losing battle. a unfair battle lost. she tries to work up the courage to say something to ponyboys family but she doesn't because they are going through it enough and she doesn't think she could stand to see their broken faces so she doesn't.

she instead spends her time at the hospital volunteering and avoiding the faces of ponyboys friends nonexistent in her life until one day her car runs outta gas and the only place she can fill it is at the dx. she had been mindlessly moving through her days. marcia has tried to get her to open up but the star cheerleader just stays closed. bobs hopeless looks to her at school didn't help her guilt and anger.

marcia had asked her to join her to train for the upcoming rodeo and she had missed barrel racing so she was quick to agree plus she need a distraction from the world which seemed to have different plans for her. coming face to face with one ponyboys older brother, sodapop had tossed her world around.

she has know him for years yet they had been so far from each other. seeing the boy who had been so quick to talk to her when they were younger turn into a boy who looked on the brink of death had completely thrown her off. could this be the same boy who couldn't stop giving her stupid letters as a kid. the same letters she kept hidden in her closet which held the forgotten what ifs that she had thought about before bob. before life had gotten so complicated.

his blue eyes that she had once been so excited to see as a kid no longer comforting now that they were older. she had truly fought with herself to forget the past but the constant comfort those thoughts of being ale to live without having to truly think about staus was nice.

pushing past her fear she walked towards the counter where he was standing behind she gave a quick hello which wasn't met with a response. she quickly pays for her gas and the small snack she had picked out but stops when she hears soda speak.

"you're his girlfriend right? Bob Sheldon."

his voice no longer something that brighten the room just cold and harsh. she turns to meet his eyes and all she can see is the anger and pain he must be feeling. she can't find herself to blame him for that. she can feel her heart swell and pound.

"not...anymore. I had broken up with him that night at the drive-in"

she could see him process her words then just deflate. he simply gave her a soft 'oh' before taking his eyes off of her. he looks so tired and she wanted nothing more then to give any comfort towards him but she doesn't know him. she never did but she wished she could've gotten to know the boy pony had raved about that night.

she leaves without another word but doesn't leave without once last look to the shell of the boy she had once knew. she doesn't see him for years after that, nor the boy that had been with ponyboy that night and she wonders if that's more blood on bobs hands but she doesn't know because she leaves the first chance she gets because she can't stand the town where everything had gone so wrong.

cherry valance, a girl who couldn't deal with the pain caused from a boy she hadn't been able to know.

[socheckitout-mikey]

Hi! I love your content! I saw u did the type of girl the greases would date. Could you please do what type of girl the socs (randy and bob) would date?

heeeey! yeah ofc (': i haven't ever really written much for randy and bob, so i hope i do them justice. i also decided to add cherry and marcia too! sorry that it took me ages to get around to writing and posting this, it was a bit tough for me to figure out but i tried my best. - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Soc's Ideal Types (Personality Wise) Preferences:

Bob Sheldon:

° I think Bob would work well with someone who is more assertive and strong willed – who knows what they want and aren’t afraid of voicing their opinions. We learn in The Outsiders from Randy that Bob just wanted somebody to tell him, ��no”. Especially his parents.

° Someone who’s unafraid of pointing out when he’s not being his best self and standing up to him. He may feel uncomfortable, but I think it would help him realise that he can’t get away with everything – and I believe that’s what Bob wanted.

° We also know that he was a leader and people took a shining to him. There was a sweeter side to him when he wasn’t all boozed up. So I believe he would fit with someone who is patient but also nurturing in their assertiveness. He needs someone that can cut through that thick outer shell and tough guy persona – a person that makes him feel safe.

° He also seemed to have a really big circle of friends, so it’s clear that Bob is very social. I think that he’d need someone to be able to keep up with him – someone that he can have fun with at beer blasts, rodeos, parties and the like! He wants to show off his special someone on his arm, but he also likes to press some buttons.

Marcia:

° Not much is really known about Marcia, but I definitely think she would work well with somebody who can match her scatterbrained sense of humour and ability to bounce back from stressful situations. She seems to be very present, albeit her awareness isn’t as in tune as her friend Marcia. She seems to enjoy banter and mingling with others as a social butterfly.

° She’s also someone that probably says what she thinks, as noted when she spoke about Dally like he wasn’t there and honestly answered both Johnny’s and Pony’s ages. So I think she’d need to be with someone who has a thicker skin and is able to take on her lack of filter at times. But that isn’t to say she’ll always say something without tact that will hurt you – a lot of the time she’ll shower you with truths of how wonderful you are. So compliments need to be accepted, because Marcia means them.

° Marcia loves to be spoiled by her special person. Not because she’s selfish, but maybe because she just enjoys it. Some may think this is being spoiled, but she knows her worth – and if someone offers her something then she won’t say no to it. I think as well that Marcia is also good at spoiling, so would love someone who genuinely doesn’t feel thrown off by the kindness she showers them in. She tends to go overboard.

° Having someone with a positive mindset helps put Marcia at ease – especially if they’re able to keep up with her sunny personality. I also think she likes to feel wanted, so likes to spend quality time with her partner.

Randy Anderson:

° Randy seems to be quite aware of his surroundings and understands the bigger things in life. He seems to feel lost in the crowd where he goes out of his way to fit in. He’s also more emotionally aware and mentally aware than he lets on, as he shows when he realises there’s no reason for Soc’s and Greasers to fight in the rumble, because it won’t make a difference. I think he needs someone a little bit more sensitive to bring out those parts of him.

° He also seems to be very protective and easily roused to jealousy as seen with Marcia having Two-bit’s jacket on her shoulders. I think he would pair well with somebody that is more calm and faithful – someone that he can trust and be reassured by when he does get overcome with jealousy and protectiveness.

° He’s also very loyal, so I think someone who’s just as loyal is important to him. To know that you’ve got someone who’s got your back no matter what is someone everyone needs, but especially Randy.

° Much like Bob, Randy is someone who’s adventurous and would much prefer to have someone that can keep up with him. He can get a little wild and is pretty spontaneous.

Sherri (Cherry) Valance:

° Cherry is a girl who knows what she does and doesn’t want, and she’s undeterred by much to acquire it. So I think she’d pair well with someone who’s equally as driven to accomplish their goals and dreams, but also knows when to dial it back and relax.

° She shows and proves that she’s always willing to speak the truth and is quite courageous when she is faced with adversities. Cherry will always do what’s right even if it’s painful for her, which she demonstrates a lot during The Outsiders. I think even if she was with someone who wasn’t as confident as her, as long as they’re doing their best to be a good person and do what’s right then she feels like she’s with the right person.

° Cherry also has a habit of feeling less or hiding how she truly feels, or even bored because of her friendships seeming superficial at times. I think someone that can shake her up a little and help her dream/have fun is someone she needs. She’s attracted to big personalities or people who are memorable in some way – someone that makes her feel alive.

° Someone who listens and respects her boundaries. Cherry seems to always be justifying herself to the people around her, especially when drinking and rough endeavours come into the mix. She likes what she likes, even if it does sound expensive, and honestly it probably feels very exhausting for her to always justify. I think having someone who respects her boundaries would help her feel less defensive and she’d be willing to compromise/also respect your boundaries.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[walpurga-nacht-academy]

Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 7

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Djinn: EEEEEEEEEH!

June: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

Blanche: Hi-Himalia-senpai’s snapped!

Marcia: WOOOOOOO! GO FOR IT SENPAI! TEACH HIM A LESSON!

Djinn: HEY! HEY! HEY! PU-PUT THAT THING DOWN! IT’S AN ANTIQUE!

June: HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

Diana: … That table.

Rosa: I-IT’S MARBLE, ISN’T IT?! IT’S DEFINITELY MARBLE! AND IT’S MASSIVE TOO SO IT’S GOTTA BE HEAVY! AND SHE’S PICKING IT LIKE IT DOESN’T WEIGH A THING! IT’S SCARY! IT’S SERIOUSLY SCARY!

Blanche: Gi-Giants were said to be able to shatter mountains with just a kick… Still for a human, this is something else… But…

Rosa: Eh? Bu-But?!

June: HAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Djinn: STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

[CRASH]

[SMASH]

Rosa: IT-IT PASSED RIGHT THROUGH HIM!

Diana: … As expected.

Rosa: ‘AS EXPECTED’?! WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

Blanche: Djinn are creatures made of smoke and held together by magic. The fact that objects can pass right through them should be obvious. 

Marcia: Cheating! That’s just straight up cheating! Booooooo!

June: … Tsk.

Djinn: AAAAAAAAH! NOW YOU’VE DONE IT! YOU’VE SERIOUSLY DONE IT! MY PRECIOUS COLLECTION!

Cass: Pre-Precious…

Blanche: … collection?

Rosa: Huh? You mean those gaudy figures you have displayed on that shelf?

Djinn: THEY’RE NOT GAUDY! THEY’RE COLLECTOR’S ITEMS! EACH IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR MISERABLE LIVES WOULD FETCH ON THE SLAVE MARKET!

Rosa: EEEEEH?!

Djinn: AAAAAAAH! THEY’RE ALL SMASHED! MY FRIENDS!

Marcia: … ‘My friends’... I’m kinda feeling sorry for this guy again…

Rosa: I know what you mean…

June: FUCK ‘HAT!

Rosa: YOU’RE STILL GOING?! EVEN AFTER WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! YOU’RE STILL GOING THROUGH WITH IT?!

June: SHUT IT!!

Blanche: Se-Senpai!! Even if you swing with all you’ve got, it still won’t make a difference! His body-

June: Yeah, yeah! I ‘eard all ‘hat smoke crap y’all were talkin’ ‘bout! If ‘hat the case, ‘hen [OVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER-]

[CRACKLING]

Marcia: HEY, HEY, HEY! ARE YOU REALLY GONNA USE YOUR UNIQUE MAGIC IN SUCH A CRAMPED SPACE?! WE’RE IN CLOSE QUARTERS, YOU KNOW?!

Rosa: AAAAAAH! WE’RE GONNA GET BURNT TO A CRISP! 

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Himalia!!

Vita: Fufu~

June: [-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG-]

Djinn: [TIME’S UP!]

[CLICK]

June: !!!

Rosa: EEEEH?! WH-WH-WH-WHA-

Marcia: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!

Cass: Mi-Mi-Miss Himalia!!

Agatha: Ehehehehehehehe… the… big… chowder… got… trapped…

Vita: My~ What a delightful sight~

[BANG, BANG]

Blanche: It’s an hourglass… Is that one of his abilities? But that means…

Djinn: Alright!!

All: !!!

Djinn: Now I’m seriously pissed!! Those things cost a fortune! Not to mention the marble table! And the fact that ever since you’ve come here you’ve done nothing but insult me! You are all incredibly rude guests!!

Marcia: It’s not like we wanna be guests in the first place!! If you can’t stand us that much, then just evict us!

Rosa: That’s right! That’s right!

Djinn: Didn’t you hear me, girlie?! I said my master is to stay here and become my wife! None of you are leaving until that happens! I’m not playing around anymore!

Rosa: Grrr! Marcia!! Stop dragging your feet and just do it already so we can go home!!

Marcia: Haaaaaa?! Are you stupid?! Are you seriously that stupid?! I’m not doing it! I said it already, didn’t I?! I’m not going through with this plan! Besides, I don’t even understand why I should stay when Himalia-senpai is already in that hourglass over there?!

Eh… actually…

Rosa: Wh-What’s with that weird expression? Like you’re just realizing something…

Blanche: … I have a bad feeling about this.

Diana: Mm.

Marcia: That’s right!! I don’t have to stay!! Djinn!

Djinn: … Seriously… these were limited editions too… Hm? What now girlie? Are you finally ready to just go along with it?

Marcia: There’s no need for that! Not when you have the perfect bride right there!

Djinn: Hm? What do you mean?

Marcia: Hahaha! Come on! Don’t play coy! Just look at Himalia-senpai! Doesn’t she have a nice face and long eyelashes? Even though she works all day, her hair still looks nicely taken care of! And she’s got that busty figure too! Won’t she make for a perfect wife instead of scrawny, boyish, old me? Hm?

Djinn: … Hm. 

Marcia: See, see~ It’s not rocket science! So let’s just forget about this whole marriage business! It never would have worked out between us. You know that! But with Himalia-senpai, I’m sure you’re gonna have tons of excitement! So, how about we give her to you, and you just let us-

Cass: N-NO! 

Marcia: E-Eh! Ca-Cassandra! Was that you shouting?

Cass: Mi-Miss Pyroeis! We can’t d-do that! I refuse to leave Miss Himalia behind! It’s i-inhumane!  

Rosa: A-Amazing, I think it’s the first time I’ve seen Cassandra so adamant about something…

Diana: The bond between them is strong. 

Marcia: I-I get it! But isn’t it inhumane to make me marry that guy also?! 

Rosa: You sure use morality when it’s convenient for you…

Marcia: Haaaa?! Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you wanted to sell me out too!! Actually! We should throw you in the bargain too! 

Rosa: You monster!! If anyone should be thrown in is you and Dies-senpai!! You’re the cause of all of this!! 

Marcia: Ok! Ok! I’ll admit that I might be a little at fault here! 

Rosa: Just ‘a little’-

Marcia: But what about Blanche?!

Blanche: Excuse me?

Marcia: You’re the one who brought up the artifact in the first place, weren’t you?!

Rosa: That’s right!! If you haven’t brought up the issue of the lamp then stupid Marcia wouldn’t have shown it to us!!

Marcia: Yeah!! The stupid me wouldn’t have brought it out and then senpai wouldn’t have gotten her grubby hands on it!! So it all comes down to it being your fault!

Blanche: !!! That-!

Rosa: Repent! Repent, you monster! 

Marcia: Mistakes should be paid in full!! So that means you’re the one who has to stay behind!!

Blanche: A-Absolutely not! I refuse to be punished for following the rules of-

Marcia: Like I care about that!! You’re gonna take the fall whether you like it or not!!

Rosa: That’s right!! That’s right!!

Agatha: The… hopping… chowder… should… take… the… amoeba… with… her… eheheheheheheheheheh

Rosa: GRRRRR! You’re still going on about that?! Maybe we should throw you in as well!! 

Vita: Now, you are simply talking out of turn, little rose~

Agatha: Stupid… amoeba… wants… her… head… bitten… off… I… bet…

Marcia: As far as I’m concerned all of you should be thrown in!

Rosa: Right back at you!

Agatha: Annoying… lot…

Vita: So much excitement~

Blanche: Keep calm all of you!!

Rosa/Marcia: SHUT IT!!

Cass: Th-Th-Th-Th-This is-!!

Diana: They’ve turned on each other. 

Cass: Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh-What should we do? If we don’t act now, then-

Djinn: … You guys.

Cass: Eeeek!

Diana: …

Djinn: Is it possible? 

Cass: U-U-Um?

Djinn: Are you all fighting over who gets to stay in the lamp with me?! 

Diana: …

Djinn: Maaaaaan! I’m so honoured! After all the nasty things you’ve said and done, you do really want to stay here, don’t you? Hahahaha, you should be more honest with this type of thing, you know!

Cass: U-U-U-U-Um…

Rosa/Marcia: STOP LIVING IN YOUR DELUSIONS!! YOU IDIOOOOOOOOOOOT!!

Blanche: … This is a disaster…

Vita: Fufu~

Djinn: Hmmmm~ But picking just one is really hard… What should I do? What should I do? Mmmmm~ This is choice is really difficult~

Agatha: He’s… saying… that… but…

Vita: He is certainly enjoying himself~ My, though I must admit all this excitement does conjure up fond memories of my own marriage arrangements~ Fufu~

Rosa: Eh? Your own- Does that mean?!

Djinn: Marriage arrangements… Hm… an omiai, huh? Then… hm…

Marcia: He-Hey, he’s muttering to himself with that serious expression… Sh-Should we be worried?

Djinn: An omiai meeting… WHAT A WONDERFUL IDEA!!

Blanche: … I have a bad feeling about this…

Diana: Mm.

[RUMBLE]

Rosa: THE FLOOR IS MO-MOVING!

Marcia: EEEEEH!! IT’S SPLITTING APART!

[RUMBLE]

Cass: EEEEEEH!!

Diana: …

[RUMBLE]

Marcia: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH- Eh? It stopped? Why did- GEH! WHAT’S WITH THIS SET UP?!

Blanche: … It’s a panel show studio.

Djinn: THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT’S RIGHT BUNNY GIRL! Since it’s the fated union between two extraordinary souls, I’m sparring no expenses~ We’re gonna have a quiz that will go down IN HISTORY! I’m bursting with excitement!

Rosa: Quiz?! What quiz?! Hey, hey, what’s going on here?!

Djinn: Hmmm, you’re kinda dumb, fluffy hair. Gonna have to deduct points for that.

Rosa: HA?! 

Djinn: But since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll explain it to you! See, what the busty vixen said got me thinking: if I have to be stuck with one of you for the rest of eternity I should pick the one that annoys me the least! It only makes sense to go about it this way, right?!

Blanche: I… I suppose so, but still…

Marcia: WHAT’S WITH THIS PANEL SHOW SET UP, HUH?!

Djinn: Oh, this? I just thought it would be way more interesting like this! Add a little spice, you know?

Rosa/Marcia: GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

Djinn: SO! LET- US- START- THE- QUIZ- OF- A- LIFE- TIIIIIIIIIIIIME~

back | next

[changingourdestiny]

Beyond Light Epilogue: Crossing the Line

Summary:

Fireteam Paralight have returned to the Tower safely. However, there are still a few loose ends to tie up.

Previous Part: Here

It had been a few days since Fireteam Paralight defeated Eramis on Europa. While Zavala wasn’t too amused with the methods used, he couldn’t deny the results. He had organised to give Variks temporary immunity while Europa was secured, and Drifter and Marcia returned to the Tower the day after Paralight did with Eris returning to the moon. Paralight received word from Tif that the Fallen that defected from Eramis had safely made it to Earth and have joined House Light. Thankfully, Zavala gave Paralight a few days of reprieve to recover from their mission. However, Rae knew they’d have to address the elephant in the room.

“What do you think the meeting’s about?” Cayde and Rae stepped onto the elevator that lead down to Zavala’s office. “My guess? Stasis.” Rae replied, “More Guardians have begun to master it ever since Eramis fell.” “Well, Shaxx seems to be happy about it.” Cayde chuckled, “I could hear his cheers about the new grenades from the Hanger, and Marcia could hear him from the Annex.” “You kidding? You can hear Shaxx from the Annex on a normal day. I bet Shaw could hear him from the Cosmodrome!” The two laughed as they stepped off the elevator and entered Zavala’s office where he was sat at his desk with Ikora standing in front of it. “You called for us, Zavala?” Rae spoke up as she and Cayde approached the desk. “Yes. Sorry for calling you in during your time off, Raegalia.” Zavala apologised. “I still think I should’ve gotten time off too. Y’know, for helping?” Cayde suggested. “You mean your unsanctioned trip to the Cosmodrome and then to Europa which neither of us gave permission for?” Ikora raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “I- well- actually no, fair point.” Rae couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before clearing her throat, “So what did you need to talk about, Commander?” Zavala exhaled before looking at his fellow Vanguards, “As you all know, the use of stasis has increased since the House of Salvation was defeated. And it’s…concerning, to say the least. The Darkness is on our doorstep, and Guardians are not immune to corruption. The pursuit of power has divided us before. We must remain in the Light. If we bend, we will only break. Any compromise regarding the Darkness will only end in disaster. Now that Eramis and her council are defeated, Guardians have no reason to wield stasis. Therefore I propose that stasis be outlawed among Guardians from this point forward.” The room was silent as everyone processed Zavala’s words. “No.” Cayde and Ikora looked at Rae with surprised expressions as Rae spoke up, a serious expression on her face. “I respect you, Zavala. As a leader, fellow Guardian, and friend. But I can’t agree with this. I know that there is a risk in using this power, but do you really think that our enemies will respect that? If both us Guardians and Eramis was able to get her hands on this power so easily, what’s to say the Hive, Vex, Cabal or Scorn could? And if, or even when, they get a hold of this power, they will not exercise restraint just because we will. May times our Light has been put in jeopardy, The Red War being the closest to losing we've ever come. Stasis has become a commodity among us and our enemies. This genie is never going back in its bottle and I have no doubt the more you try to restrict it the more Guardians will succumb to its corruption. I’m not suggesting Guardians give in completely to Darkness. Elsie has seen the result of that. It doesn’t end well. But I’m not suggesting we remain in the Light. I remember hearing of a vision the Nine’s emissary gave Drifter. She showed him a world of Darkness where he couldn’t see, and everything was dead. Then she showed him a world of Light where it burned his eyes, and people begged to die.” Rae held out her left arm, removing her glove and making the markings on her arm glow gold, “Instead of sticking to one of them, we need to use them side by side.” She then held out her other arm and a few stasis crystals grew from her hand before dismissing both and putting her glove back on, “Naturally, Guardians will need to be taught how to use this power as to not be corrupted by it. If you don’t trust Drifter, Eris, Marcia or Elsie to teach them…then let me.” “You want to teach Stasis?” Ikora seemed surprised. “I’ve been practising with it for the past few days.” Rae replied, holding out her hand as stasis crystals appeared in her hand before switching to solar energy and back and forth a few more times, “I’ve gotten to the point where I can switch between both Light and Dark with relative ease.” Rae turned back to face Zavala as she dismissed the energy, “Power alone is rigid, Zavala. A blade that is inflexible will always break.” Zavala had his hands folded and eyes closed as he seemed to take in and process Rae’s words. After a moment, he spoke, “It’s true I don’t fully trust the Drifter or Marcia. I trust Eris but since she is without Light, it would be difficult for her to teach Guardians how to use both. And we don’t have enough information about Elisabeth Bray to fully trust her.” He looked up at Rae, “If you fully believe that you can teach Guardians how to use stasis properly, then I trust you. But be aware that any negative repercussions might fall on your hands.” Rae nodded, “I understand and willing to take responsibility for whatever happens.” “Very well. From this point forward, Raegalia Drakyx is to be in charge of teaching and monitoring stasis among the Guardians. Meeting adjourned.”

As they left the office, Rae noticed Cayde and Ikora looking very impressed at her. “W-what’s with the looks?” Rae asked, a light blush on her cheeks. “That was very impressive.” Ikora smiled slightly, “Usually, I’d expect you to just go along with any order Zavala would give. But that didn’t seem to be the case this time.” “I understand Zavala’s concerns about the Darkness. I don’t trust it either.” Rae began, “But we can’t defeat something we don’t understand. I know there’s a chance this could go pear-shaped, but it’s high risk, high reward. If we can figure out how the Darkness works, we can figure out its weaknesses.” “Now you’re talkin’ like a Hunter!” Cayde gave Rae a playful nudge, “I’m liking this side of you!” “And like a Warlock too.” Ikora added, “When did you get so wise?” “Learned from a strong and wise Warlock.” Rae smiled. “Osiris?” Ikora joked. “I said ‘strong and wise’ not ‘old and grouchy.” Ikora stifled a laugh, “Now you’re starting to sound like Sagira.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “Y’know, I think you’re the closest any Guardian has come to making Ikora laugh.” Cayde interjected, “Any joke I make is just met with a witty comeback.” “It’s not my fault the jokes you set up can be knocked down by a simple breeze.” Ikora smirked. Rae laughed as Cayde and Ikora ended up going back and forth dealing out witty remarks, trying to outdo each other.

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

That night, Blaze sat on her bed while looking out the window. She was deep in thought while fiddling with the flame-coloured feather on her bow. “Ok, what’s up?” Firefly popped up beside Blaze, startling her, “You’ve barely got any sleep since we got back, and you’ve been thinking a LOT. Something you rarely ever do, might I add.” Blaze sighed as she ran her hand through the bangs covering her face, “I’ve been having visions again…” “Bad ones?” “Confusing, more like. Rae, Adam and I are in Spider’s lair. Rae and Spider are talking about something, but I can’t hear what’s being said. But I remember feeling…angry. I don’t know why.” “Maybe Spider’s gonna do something annoying?” “This wasn’t a mild angry, Fly. This was ‘seriously trying to hold back from becoming a fireball’ angry. I was, or rather I’m going to be, furious with Spider and I’ve no idea why.” “I guess we better be ready for anything then.” Firefly sighed, “Just when I thought we’d be done with crazy for a while.” “We’re Guardians. It’s when things AREN’T crazy you know something’s wrong.” Blaze smirked. “Very true!” Firefly giggled, “Well, get some sleep! You won’t be able to deal with the crazy if you’re too sleepy!” “Ok, ok.” Blaze chuckled, “I will in a sec.” As Firefly disappeared, Blaze glanced back down at her bow. Rae’s words from a few days ago came back to her. “It doesn’t matter who he was, it’s who he is now.” Blaze sighed as she set the bow on her bedside table and lay down to go to sleep.

‘I miss you…’

End of Beyond Light.

[abalovesfic]

The Demon, The Exorcist, and the Memory Chapter 1

We all do stupid things. And sometimes that stupid thing is posting an entire 47k fic at once... which then actually lowers people’s ability to see it because you aren’t posting on a schedule. A lot of my readership comes from Tumblr and I really, really need it.  So why can’t I cross post already completed chapters? Leave your comments, hits, and blood offerings at  AO3. Help me fix the mistakes I made against my baby! @transcendence-au ---------- Dipper looked into the cup of hot chocolate, his reflection cast back into the dark brown slurry. He looked the same as always, gold irises piercing back at him. Same sharp teeth and dramatic wings. Even after all these years, he never truly managed to change. “So what exactly do you do on your 5013th birthday? I think I’m a little too old for parties,” he said.

“Don’t be silly.” She grabbed a handful of marshmallows and forced them down into her cup, followed by three candy canes and a thick pulse of fluffy whipped cream. “You’re never too old for cake and presents. Don’t you have friends to hang out with?”

“Yes, but I’ve never told them when my birthday was. Sorta ruins the whole immortal demon thing I’ve got going on,” he muttered, tapping his claws against the side of the mug. “The only person who I’d even tell is Mizar.”

She chugged some of the hot chocolate, pulling the cup away to reveal a chocolatey brown mustache over her upper lip. “You should tell her. I think she’d like to celebrate with you: this is the big 5-0-1-3.”

Dipper laughed at her, just for a moment, watching as she tried to lick the chocolate away. “I’ve only found Fang a few weeks ago. We’re still adjusting to each other, you know? Fang and I haven’t really clicked yet. She’s been… difficult.”

Grabbing a napkin from the table, she rubbed the chocolate from her face. “Well it sounds like this could be a bonding moment for you and Fang.” She paused and chewed on a strand of her dark hair in thought. “I know it’s not easy going through this every few hundred years… but she is Mizar. A lot of things change between incarnations, but your connection doesn’t. So go grab a couple cupcakes and go visit her. I promise, she’ll see right through that scary demon exterior to your soft squishy core.” Reaching over, she bopped him on the nose with one finger.  

Knocking her hand away, he laughed. “Cut it out.”

“Nope.” She bopped her finger against his nose again.

Dipper’s grin faded just as quickly as it arrived. Something sorrowful creeped over him. “And what would you want to do, for the big 5-0-1-3? After all,” he looked at her, the soft curls of her dark hair caressing her face, how her eyes looked so bright and awestruck. “It is your birthday too, Mabel.”

Mabel’s smile changed. What was once joyous turned to a thoughtful and sad glaze across her face. “Oh, Dipper.” Mabel wrapped one hand around his. Everything about her was intense, down to the texture of her fingerprints. He could smell the combination of perfume and hot glue on her skin, count the stands in her wool sweater, see every freckle on her nose. “I’m not really Mabel, I’m just a representation of her.”

“I know,” his voice broke, on the verge of a grief filled rage. “You don’t have to remind me every single time. At least pretend or something.”

His memory of her was perfect, concocted of every thought, every word ever spoken by or about her. The most precise image of his sister he could muster. She appeared in her late 20’s, soft bags under her eyes from the exhaustion of raising triplets, but also vibrant and full of life. Every time he came to see her, she wore a new sweater every time he saw her, generated from one of his memories. This one happened to be her pink birthday sweater, the one she initially planned to wear for their 13th birthday 5,000 years ago.

After a while it had gotten too hard. He had Mizar. Every moment with each incarnation was a new adventure. But it didn’t change the fact that there was only one Mizar he wanted to talk to. Only one Mizar who knew him for who he truly was. But the only place she still existed was in his own mind. And, after all, he controlled the mindscape. So who was to say he couldn’t rebuild her from his own memories?

Mabel slipped her hand up to his cheek and tried to force his gaze on to hers. “I know you don’t want to celebrate because you miss her. But she would want you to. I want you to.”

“But I want y̸̛͖̤̲̟o̶͛͐ͅu̸̡̝̪͕͂͗̂͠ ,” Dipper said, unaware of the snarl carving in his voice. “Don’t you get it? I’m so tired of going through this over and over again. I want m̷̱̑ͅy̷̝̤̥͕̐͛ ̷͉͖̞̕s̷̭̓̓ḯ̷̘̘̲̾̍s̷̖͑t̸̛͔͈̰̔͜ȩ̶̭͚͔̀̓̍̚r̷̡͚̜̪͒̋͝.̷͍̞̝̓̀͜.”  

“Hey, snap out of it. Listen to me for a moment.” She had that big goofy grin he adored. “If Mabel had stayed with you all these years, you would have missed so much. Belle, Maddie, Marcia, Lane: all of my incarnations have loved you so much and you loved them. The universe is like a big sweater, sometimes you have to get a new ball of yarn. And now you have Fang as your new ball of yarn!”

He sighed, “Fang is a little scared of me, I think.” He shook his head, “Actually, I know she is. She doesn’t trust me yet.”

“Duh I’m Dipper,” Mabel did her best mocking interpretation. “I’m socially awkward and emotionally isolated. I have a hard time making connections with people and I use being a demon as an excuse.”

“I do not!” he retorted.

“Do too!” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Bro, you have to show her who you are. Being Alcor the Dreambender isn’t gonna cut it. You have to show her Dipper, the dorky nerd who plays card games and reads the same book 5 times just to make sure he picked up on all the details. She’ll be scared if all you let her see are the dark and violent parts of what’s happened to you.”

He stared back down at his reflection in the hot chocolate, haunting, dark, and eternal. “I’m starting to forget who Dipper is. It’s been so long.”

“Then let me remind you. Dipper Pines is the most loving person in the world. He’d do anything for the people he loves, including follow their soul around for eternity. He’s been a little broken down over the years, but it’s never stopped him from trying. I know this is hard. But you’ve never given up before. Don’t start now.”  

His smile was faint, “Thanks, Mabes. You always know what to say.”

Leaning back, she crossed her arms and gave him a smug grin. “Yup. I’m a genius. Now go have a birthday party with Fang. Let her know that this is a special occasion and you want to share it with her .”  

“I will.” Standing up, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

“Wait!” She cried. He turned around. She pointed at his still full cup of hot chocolate. “Are you gonna drink that?”

“It’s all yours,” he chuckled and walked out of the Mindscape.

------

Fang sat on her bed, her usual clambering and shrieking emo/punk music vibrating through her bedroom. The array of all black clothing consumed her. The sleeves were torn away from her shirt leaving nothing but fringe and the muscled curve of her arms. She had her hair pulled into the signature, stumpy pigtails atop her head. She wasn’t paying attention, as usual, chewing on a piece of bubble gum and staring into her MagiOrb. The image appeared backwards through the holoscreen, though he could tell she was looking at a news article about the unfortunate dismembering of a child-sacrificing cult this morning, having been found with their organs separated from their bodies. Fang was nosey, that was for sure. Dipper sucked in a breath, trying to push down his nerves. He positioned himself at the back of the bedroom and rapped his knuckles against the wall 3 times to get her attention.

At first she was startled, obviously she was. He had surprised her and she was still getting used to him. Not just the way he looked or the faint terror that radiated from him, but the fact that he had become tangible. No longer a myth or a legend, but someone real.

“Oh uhm… hey?” she said, unsure what to make of his unannounced presence. Scrambling, she turned off the MagiOrb and tucked it beneath her pillow, as if to hide what she was looking at.

“Sorry, I know it’s not one of our pre-planned meeting times, but I wanted to see you today,” he said, still standing awkwardly at the back of the room. Unlike past Mizars, he had agreed not to blip in and out of her life at random. They made a schedule of days and times she was willing to meet with him, all of those meetings lasting no more than an hour, and she could send him away without question. He had also agreed not to approach her without permission. So he stood off in the far corner of the room waiting for her to motion him closer.

Fang gave him a confused but cautious glance. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. It’s all good. Today is just kind of an important day for me and I wanted to spend it with you.”

Her shoulders hunched forward with curiosity. “What’s today?”

“It’s sort of my 5,013th birthday.” He gave a mild smile and nervous jazz hands, confetti spurting from his fingers and then disappearing.

“Oh.” She blinked her dark eyes a few times, lashes thick with clumpy mascara. “I guess I hadn’t considered that you would even have a birthday. Let alone that you would celebrate it every year.” She pressed her lips together, sitting in an uncomfortable thought.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I realize I just sort of popped in here and dropped this birthday thing on you. That’s weird. Like you said, demons don’t really have birthdays.”  

“It’s okay,” she replied, a genuine sympathy curling into her voice. “No it's okay. I wish I had known, I would have gotten you a present or something. Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. Really, it’s okay.”

He watched her inch closer, shuffling herself across the bed, wrinkling the blankets as she moved. “What sort of things do you like anyway? Beyond murder and eating souls?”

“Very funny,” he replied, a sarcastic spit to his tone. “But seriously, I do enjoy things outside of eating the occasional soul.” But then he softened for a moment to think about it. Mabel had told him to show Fang who he really was. He supposed this would be the way to do it. “For example: I like the top 40’s pop hits. And I love role playing games; the ones from the old days when you had dice and graph paper. I like the smell of pine trees, the real thing, not candles. Oh and candy; the good kind, not that loser stuff.”

“What are you,12?” A slight snort of laughter erupted from her.

“I’m 5,013 ,” he said and stuck his forked tongue out at her. This was the first time he had ever seen her laugh. After two months of scheduled meetings, trying to force just a little bit of conversation out of her, he finally got Fang to laugh.

“It’s just so weird,” she said, the laugh slowing in her voice. “I thought you were gonna say warfare or videos of people falling down the stairs. Maybe professional wrestling. Something a little more chaotic.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like any of those things. Okay, well, videos of people falling down the stairs are pretty funny but not in, like, a malicious way.”

Fang looked over at him, standing in the yellow lamplight in the back of the room. A pink hue flushed his cheeks. She reached out to pat the bed beside her, inviting him closer. He did so, not quite sitting on the bed but barely hovering over it and folding his wings up against his back. She still went rigid when he got close, but she held her ground.

“What about you?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows pressed against his knees and chin resting on both hands. “What do you like?”

“Oh,” she blinked a few times, clumpy lashes sticking together. “I thought you would have rooted through my brain for that information.”

“I’m trying out this new thing called privacy. I hear humans like it.” She contorted her mouth in confusion and disgust. “I’m kidding,” he replied. “I know what privacy is. Despite what you may believe, I do have a sense of right and wrong.”

“I can’t help what I believe,” she replied. The silence hung between them as if sentenced to death on the gallows. And even though her music raged on with angry synth-drums and screaming lyrics, nothing could cover up the quiet between them. Fang sucked in a breath, looking away from him as if disinterested. “I like bubble gum, punk bands that say ‘fuck’, horror movies that are so bad they’re good, dunking all my foods in hot sauce, and…” she thought a moment, “killing demons.”

He must’ve turned a stark white. “Seriously? Well, that’s...”

She smiled, a subtle curve at the corner of her mouth. “I’m kidding. I can make jokes too. I mean, killing demons is fun, but I wouldn’t call it a hobby.” Her glance was sly and wry, a slip of her true personality slipping through her exterior.

“Are, uhm, you still going to exorcist training?” he asked.

He could see the pieces of her history strewn about the room, as if she left everything out in the open on purpose. Old demonology textbooks were stacked on the corner of her desk (you could tell they were old because books stopped going into print 2,000 years ago), a protection sigil hung over the door, all of her awards and medals for exorcism-training were displayed proudly in the same manner that other teenagers might display martial arts or science fair ribbons. There was a faint and lingering smell of burnt aromatics used to protect the home. Everything about Fang had been shaped and cultured to distrust him.

It was one of the universe’s sick jokes. First, to take Mizar away, keep her hidden from his sight for so long, and then to turn her against him.

The way Fang looked at him always seemed to be accompanied by a threat, as if she were counting the ways she could bring him down. “I am.” She said it so plainly, as if she meant to insult him with the mundanity of it. “Dropping out would be suspicious. I’ve been training since the day I turned 12, to stop so suddenly would raise concern in the community. I have to pretend like nothing has changed until I turn 18 and I can take my test to become a full exorcist. And besides,” she said. “I think I need it now more than ever.”

He perked up. “Does that mean you’ve given the whole Alcor and Mizar thing more thought?”

“I haven’t,” Fang replied, a cold snap to her voice. Dipper then realized she wasn’t talking about fighting demons with him, she was talking about fighting him. She was still worried he might betray her. “I just don’t understand this Mizar thing right now. I need more time to…”

“Adjust?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand.” His cheek puckered where he bit down on the inside of it.

Fang leaned back, using the palms of her hands to press against the bed and stretch out her back. “So,” she said, eager to keep talking in order to ignore the absurdity of her situation. “What did you want to do? Considering it’s your birthday and all.”

“Oh.” Dipper hadn’t expected to get this far. He thought Fang would have asked him to leave by that point. “I don’t know. It’s honestly been a really long time since I’ve celebrated with anyone. How do you typically celebrate?”

“I uhm,” Fang rested her cheek on her hand. “I don’t celebrate. My parents are usually too busy; not to mention they’re pretty terrible gift-givers. They always get me something related to exorcism. Seriously, for my 5th birthday they got me a copy of My First Demonic Dictionary . It had all sorts of fun words for kids like ‘circle’, ‘fire’, and ‘human sacrifice’. And three years ago, I said I wanted some new music downloads. So they got me 3 albums of Latin chanting.” Dipper chuckled a little at that, though Fang didn’t appreciate him mockering her misery. She punched him in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt. “Cut it out. It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, that's just a terrible present. Latin chanting is the worst . I’m more of a classics guy myself; like BABBA.” He cleared his throat, it was a terrible nervous habit, considering he didn’t have a throat nor did he have something to clear out of it. “So really, you just spend your birthday alone? No friends or anything?”  

“No, I’ve never been good at making or keeping friends.” She sighed and leaned backwards so that her shoulder blades touched the back wall by her bed. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common. We’re both good at being alone. Huh?” There was a slight arc in her lips, a certain kind of look in her black makeup-rimmed eyes. Fang had the face of a silent film star; someone who had perfect control over their expressions. There was something coy in her face, like she had left a snare for him to walk into. She had him all figured out.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” he replied.

“Because you’re spending your birthday with someone you barely know. That sounds pretty lonely to me.”

He laughed to himself, a sharp-toothed smile spreading across his face. “You’re very astute, Fang.” Then his smile faded into something more soft and contemplative. “But we aren’t alone right now. And all I’d really like for my birthday is for us to try to be friends.”

He could tell by the pucker in her bottom lip that she was thinking. Letting out a breath through her nose, the tips of her bangs ruffled. “I guess I can try.” The deep brown of her irises looked nearly black as her dark gaze settled on his.

For the first time, the smile she gave him was friendly and the tide of her breathing became relaxed. Maybe things were finally starting to change.

[fairytaleendingss]

Rough All Over: Chapter 2

Johnny Cade x OC

Part 1

Summary: The Curtis gang lives on the rough side of town. Their lives consist of abusive parents, violent gangs and trouble around every corner but even through all the hardships, they can always call on each other. However, when a new girl shows up to town with a mysterious past, things start to take a turn. Will the boys manage to stick together, even when everything’s trying to tear them apart?

Warnings: none in this chapter.

(a/n: Hey guys. So I changed the ship from Outsiders x OC to Johnny Cade x OC as I changed my plan for this story and thought that it fit the fic a bit better. Hope you enjoy it, nonetheless.)

---

Dawn quickly walked towards the West side of town, Soda’s words lingering in her mind. She remembered the directions her mother had given her earlier that day and finally she found her way home. 

She glanced at the house that she was now going to call her home. It was big, much bigger than any house she'd lived in back in Chicago. It was fancy and made of brick with a wide driveway and plants growing neatly around the front. She wondered what her father would’ve thought, seeing her and her mother living in a house like this. 

She shook the thoughts from her head as she pushed open the front door.

“I’m home” she called into the large entrance of the house. 

“Oh finally” her mother rushed into the room, taking off her apron and she went to hug her daughter. “Did you buy what I asked you to?” She asked in a hushed voice so that Dawn was the only person that was able to hear.

Dawn handed her the pack of cigarettes and her mum sighed in relief. “Thank you so much honey. I haven’t had one of these in ages. You know Fred doesn’t like it, he thinks it’s unladylike”.

Dawn sighed. “It isn’t healthy either. Maybe you should think about quitting”. 

She took off her coat, placing it on the coat rack and strolling into the living room where her step-father was sitting on the lounge, nose deep in today’s paper. He glanced up at her briefly before turning back to the paper. 

“Good evening Dawn. How was your walk?” 

Dawn rolled her eyes as she walked to put her coke in the fridge.  “It was fine, Fred.” she sent him a glare behind his back as she turned to her mum who was working away on making dinner. 

“I’m going to go upstairs. Call me if you need me for anything” she said.  

Dawn looked around her bedroom. Everything seemed different. She wasn’t used to fancy dressing tables or grand windows. She sat down on the bed, flicking on the radio. As music filled her room she couldn't help but think about school on Monday. She knew starting a new school was hard but after what Sodapop had told her about the segregation between different people in town, she couldn’t help but wonder who she was supposed to hang around with...what kind of person she was supposed to be.

She lay on her bed for a while longer, clutching a pillow to her chest and enjoying the music that flowed through the radio. However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a doorbell ringing from downstairs. 

“Dawn!” her mother called to her. “There are some people here to meet you”

Dawn groaned, turning her radio off and rolling off her bed. As she made her way down the stairs, she noticed two girls around her age, standing in the doorway and chatting cheerfully to her mother. They were both beautiful. One had short, brown hair and petite features and the other had a more striking look, with long auburn hair that sat in neat curls on her shoulders. Both girls were dressed in nice, neatly ironed clothing and looked as though they were from the West side of town.

“Dawn, darling. I’d like you to meet Sherri and Marcia. They are from the neighbourhood and are in your class at school” Dawn’s mum stepped away into the living room in order to let the girls talk. 

“Hi, my name is Sherri but you can call me Cherry” the girl with the red hair stated, sticking out her hand for Dawn to shake.

Dawn smiled, the girls seemed friendly. Maybe she wouldn’t have such a difficult time at school after all. 

“I’m Dawn, nice to meet you” 

“I heard you're from Chicago,” Marcia piped up. “What brings you to Tulsa?”

Dawn hesitated for a moment, looking down at her shoes. “I..um…”

“It’s okay”, Cherry cut in. “All that matters is that you’re here now.” 

Dawn gave her a thankful smile, glad she’d interrupted when she did.

“Hey, do you need a ride to school on monday?” Marcia asked. “Our boyfriends usually drive us to school so we can ask them to stop by and pick you up on the way?”

“That’s a great idea” Cherry added, “What do you say?” 

Dawn though for a moment. “Yeah, sure. If it’s not too much trouble of course.”

“It’s no trouble at all” Cherry assured her and turned to Marcia who nodded in agreement. 

“Okay, thanks so much”

“No problem, we should get going now but we’ll see you on Monday” 

The girls said their goodbyes and Cherry and Marcia headed home, leaving Dawn to her thoughts. That night at dinner, she couldn't help but wonder about what Soda had told her. The thing about the Greasers and Socs. The girls seemed nice but so did Soda and if what he had said to her about the social classes was true, maybe she’d be better off as a greaser. Cherry and Marcia were Socs, that much was clear, and they were friendly and kind to her that evening but would they be so kind if they knew what had really brought Dawn to Tulsa in the first place?

---

The weekend passed slowly back at the Curtis residence. Soda had told the boys all about his encounter with the mysterious girl at the DX and as they always did, rumours started spreading like wildfire around town. For once, Ponyboy was actually eager to go to school on Monday. He was intrigued by the rumours and wanted to find out what they were all about. 

Stepping out of Darry’s car he glanced around at the groups of students that were all gathered around at the front. Most of them were socs. Greasers didn’t usually hang around at school that often, or even show up at all, really. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking in curiosity for the girl he’d heard so much about. However, he only saw familiar faces in the sea of students.

Suddenly, a car pulled up and out the front and Pony recognised it as the one that belonged to Bob Sheldon. The door swung open and he expected to see Bob and Randy step out, followed by Cherry and Marcia, however he wasn’t expecting a fifth person to follow them out of the car. She was wearing a blue pleated skirt and a black turtleneck. She was pretty and matched the description that Soda had given his brother on Saturday evening. She looked nervous, uncomfortable even and was clutching her books to her chest as she walked behind her soc-y friends. 

Ponyboy noticed a few groups stop their conversations and stare at her as she walked past. The school didn’t often get new students so it came as a bit of a shock when Dawn (that was the name Soda had given him...right?) showed up.

Pony was snapped out of his thoughts by the ringing of the school bell and he tried to turn his mind away from the mystery girl as he headed towards his first class.

[charissekenion]

What systemic racism in the British beauty industry looks like

Remember when Black Lives Matter content filled up the feeds of your preferred social platform? While the message still burdens many within the black community — as well as some allies — on a daily basis, for many it is business as usual; even one of my regular online beauty go-to’s has that in their homepage banner. I’m sure it’s more about things being back to ‘some kind’ of normal post-Covid, but who knows? To me, it seems like everyone is tired and weary of the triggering message of BLM and I believe that’s a sign that, if systems are not changed, things are likely to return to what they used to be, the word diversitybecoming one of those words people say out loud while using air quotes. I’ve already written about my own personal experience as a mixed/black woman in the beauty world, but I wanted to try and tackle the systems within the beauty industry. If I’ve missed anything, let me know!

Brands/Agencies Throughout the early days of BLM, brands and agencies around the globe paid close attention to where their ads were appearing. It wasn’t a moral stance however; brands had learned that ads placed near George Floyd or protest-related content, monetized at 57%* lower than other news content. The investment simply wasn’t worth it and words/phrases such as Black Lives Matter, George Floyd, Minneapolis and Black people were put on industry blocklists. While blocklists surely began as a way for the industry to ensure it wasn’t placing insensitive ads, in 2020 brands are using them purely because of the bottom line; revenue.

For me, the brands that have stood out during BLM are the ones that are more thoughtful in how they can help, long-term. Praise was given to Emily Weiss of Glossier for starting a grant for black-owned beauty businesses. Another stand-out show of support came from Caroline Hirons, a brand in her own right.

Hirons is known as the queen of skincare amongst the UK press — and she knows that is a very white press. She took a few days to get her ‘ducks in a row’, early on when BLM was being heavily supported, ensuring her donations were able to have Gift Aid applied (more of the cash actually going to the organisation), before announcing that she would be giving 100 percent of the 2020 proceeds from her best-selling Double Cleanse with Pixi to Black Lives Matter. Pixi duly matched her donation.

But for every positive there were several embarrassing examples of how notto do it. I don’t have the time or energy to give a comprehensive list of just how many brands got it so wrong during the days that followed #blackouttuesday for instance.

I’m not about forcing anyone to do anything, because if you don’t care, why would I want your help? For me the blame lays with brands who have the means to send out the right messages on the daily via social and in the media. It wasn’t just about calling out RMS Beauty on their Instagram for hiring such an insensitive social media manager. It was more about checking out the feeds of Maybelline, Chanel Beauty, etc, etc, and seeing if they had ever shown diversity in their campaigns. The results were lacklustre to say the least, but, if there was one truly classic example of what not to do, the medal would go to Marcia Kilgore (founder of Beauty Pie, Fit Flop, Bliss). I’ve been a diehard fan of Kilgore and her work ethic for years and I’ve lost count of how many interviews I’ve listened to of Kilgore sharing her business journey.

But throughout BLM I’ve seen some shockers coming from (seemingly) Kilgore’s own hand. I’ve been sent screenshots of comments on Instagram (later deleted) including one that shows Kilgore using the shrugs emoji. One of Beauty Pie’s diehard (white) fans just didn’t get why Beauty Pie was receiving negative feedback after not standing up soon enough or strongly enough for BLM. Kilgore replied to her fan with the shrug — she might as well have said: ‘gee, we just can’t seem to please these people.’

The Influencer Whether you love influencer culture or not, it’s clear that, for now, it’s here to stay. Mostly dominated by (white) women, with some being worth over £4million here in the UK, whatever their chosen area of specialisation, there seems to be a very cookie-cutter approach as to what and who’s adored and accepted. Look at wellness, look at fashion, and of course, beauty, and you’ll find that the popular accounts are usually owned by very blonde, very slim women. Life is just one long Instagram Story compiled of working out in Lululemon, wearing makeup from an expensive brand that’s never looked past 10 shades, sipping an iced green tea and getting your wedding paid for by your clever agency rep who’s reached out to countless companies that are guaranteed to find you so palatable and on-brand.

Now, I am not coming for these women; these women can exist alongside the women that I choose to follow — the women that can and do in fact influence me and how I purchase, whether they get paid or not. And there’s the rub. Brands have been making tons of excess profits from women of colour who just love that brand — essentially unpaid micro influencers.

As a self-confessed beauty addict, I know the allure of the ‘next big thing’. I know how it is when you feel, or felt, that that brand actually understood you. When that new shiny purchase arrives from the likes of Glossier, you’re like, ‘hey friend’, and off you go, sharing your unboxing for your fellow beauty enthusiasts to swoon over in the comments.

Like I said, many true beauty influencers are micro influencers, doing their thing purely for the love, and not a pay check, but that’s in sharp contrast to those who are actually paid to do so. These paid influencers put in the work, styling their stories to appeal to their audience and also the audience of the brand that’s paying them.

One such influencer, someone I’ve been following a while as I enjoyed her fresh aesthetic, is also a PR. To be fair to her, I’d become so used to seeing her bounce across fields of tulips and daisies, that I wasn’t expecting anything from her when it came to ‘real life’. However, I did happen to see her Instagram Stories late one night, where she ‘appeared’ to be crying about BLM. I say appeared because honestly, I’ve seen better performances at my nephew’s nativity play. I even recorded the crying just to check I wasn’t being too dismissive.

The next day I saw that she’d finally posted an image she’d found elsewhere (i.e. not spent time creating) and given information on how to donate and research. It all seemed very rushed and frankly, I imagine that zero attention was given to the words. I wondered if she’d been pressured to post, and apparently she had been, after being tagged in a post that prompted people to call out influencers and brands who weren’t stepping up.

She dutifully posted a black square when it was ‘expected’ of her on #blackouttuesday — which she has since deleted.

On top of that, behind the scenes she was contacting various bloggers — I can’t confirm race ratios. She sent DMs that did not address the individual, did not ask the person how they were doing at this truly tiring and stressful time. Instead she asked if they were supporting black-owned brands (she asked this of a mixed-race woman who identified as black and had been posting tons of information on her Stories…) Clueless, lazy — or worse?

She mentions in the DM that one of her clients is a black-owned business and asks if the blogger might be interested in talking about it. The following day I kept wondering, ‘okay, if you’re so supportive, why not post about this black-owned brand on your own feed?’ Or, how about you offer your services to black-owned businesses at a reduced rate? Not because you should, but because, after all, you are performing as if you care.

**Dominique, a black, London-based PR shared her thoughts on how her frequent social media support of a beauty brand (self-created and not paid for, purely because she wanted to), soon started to feel as if she was being treated as a token when she was shown as the only black face in the company’s newsletter. She also tells me of a black influencer in the UK who had been promised payment for several pieces of promo work and yet had gone unpaid and ignored. It wasn’t until her loyal followers bombarded the brand’s social media platforms that the brand paid her, in full, with no argument, or apology.

“It’s so intrinsic, and so embedded,” says Dominique. “Whether it’s content creation or Instagram — which is the first port of call for every business — it’s also the tech, it’s the algorithms used. It’s the influencers, it’s the appropriation, it’s the fact that black influencers aren’t on PR lists, and aren’t being paid the same rates.”

Dominique also talks of the pressure of ‘black guilt’ that black influencers and creators can feel: “You kind of hope and root for the brands that you spend your money on, that you will see a change. And then also, you kind of assimilate in your feed to try and see if that’s gonna help you build a following. I’ve done it. Black people have learned to compartmentalise to survive and it comes down to assimilating and trying not to broadcast your blackness.”

The PR I think, in some ways, the power of the beauty industry PRs often goes unnoticed. These are people who are in the business of carving out a niche for a brand, making it the ‘next big thing’; they advise clients on everything, from tone of voice to the right faces to use in an ad campaign to which influencers to send product to, and which influencers to offer lucrative ambassadorships to.

As most UK PR firms are owned by white men and women, it’s easy to see why inclusivity might not even enter their heads. Why would it? Let’s not forget, for decades the ideal beauty has been that of a very Eurocentric look. PR firms, alongside the rest of the industry, play their part in affirming this beauty standard — it isn’t their job to actually change it. But with more and more voices calling for change, and in the era of cancel culture, PRs are likely to be forced into taking a more active role.

For example, the labeling of BLM being a political rather than human issue by the head of CrossFit was clearly a PR nightmare of huge proportions, and no-one in the multi-billion dollar beauty industry wants that to happen to them. As a recent article on the Business of Fashion stated; too often public relations execs go along with what their client wants, and if ever they do try to steer the client in another direction they are often left unsupported or removed from the account completely.

The Magazines As someone who’s been a hair and beauty editor and writer for 15 years, I’ve seen a lot of trends come and go. But one trend that remains the same is that of the ‘spot the black journo in the room’. While things may be slightly more progressive in the US, here in the UK I can say that I have never seen more than three black or non-white journalists at a press event at the same time. And don’t get me started on the staff within the publications themselves.

I remember when former British Vogue editor-in-chief Alexandra Shulman shared an image of her team in celebration of her last issue in 2017 — with not one black or brown face. I had long stopped my subscription to British Vogue, but when her replacement, Edward Enninful arrived, the man who had inspired me for years during his time at i-D magazine, I bought each issue with renewed excitement; oh how things would change!

But Enninful is one black man. And when Enninful himself is racially profiled while entering the doors of Conde Nast, you know that the problem goes way deeper. Add to that the fact that Vogue is still going to have to bow to its advertisers — the brands that keep it in print. It’s not us with our £2 ‘special price’ purchases that are keeping Vogue and others like it alive.

Elsewhere on Instagram, former Glamour editor Jo Elvin was bemoaning the fact that it wasn’t always the editor’s fault that there were no black models on the cover. Elvin said that black models often declined being on the cover (am guessing maybe it was because it was a pretty crap magazine back then?) because they ‘thought it would hurt their chances of getting covers with the high-end mags’.

And what is wrong with that? It’s far tougher for a black woman to get a Vogue cover, so if that’s that model’s goal, what’s it to Elvin and her crew? Perhaps they could seek out an unknown, rather than relying on the top three black faces over and over? Thankfully, Elvin was prompted to elaborate on her flippant comments, by none other than the aforementioned Caroline Hirons. Hirons ended by telling Elvin that the numbers don’t add up, and that bias is ‘systemic in Conde.’

I remember once going for a meeting with an online brand I avidly read. Naturally I was excited and flattered to be told: ‘you look so [insert brand name here]!’ as if I had just earned a special badge. Aside from the flattery, it really meant a lot to me and I was genuinely excited at the opportunity to write and shoot for them. I left the building buzzing, but over the coming weeks, my numerous pitches seemed to fall on deaf ears. ‘Hmm, she’s probably really, really, busy,’ I told myself.

Weeks later I noticed a new name on their writer roster and wondered if the fact that she was also mixed race was something to do with it; perhaps two was one too many? I think this is something we see and fear in many industries, but especially within fashion and beauty. While a non-black editor might enjoy being seen as the progressive one, he or she might also be nervous of ‘opening the gates’ and only employing non-white people! I’ve heard this from several black and brown people in the industry also. Once you get that role, you want to keep it both for career and financial reasons.

It’s clear that, across the board, work needs to be done, and we also need the work that is supposedly being done, to continue. It makes me nervous to see brands jumping on the Diversity Officer job role, while only offering six-month contracts. Does this mean that they hope BLM will just go away and people will just stop expecting their voices to be heard and their rights acknowledged? Are we all just so nostalgic over what normal used to be that we’d rather enter another year with blinders on?

It’s okay to admit that you’re completely unprepared for this fight. If you’ve never had to care about this fight, I get that. But whether you chose to use #blackouttuesday to gain some new fans, or you actually wanted to begin making lasting change, it’s clear, it’s going to take a lot more than a black square followed by vague epithets. Show the work; talk to your audience. Literally no-one can claim to be perfect right now, but if you want to build an anti-racist brand, take the steps, because we are all watching.

*Statistic taken from this NPR article: https://www.npr.org/2020/06/27/884213471/why-advertisers-wont-run-ads-on-black-lives-matter-content?t=1597134345822

** Name has been changed

Image: Photo by Hazel Olayres on Unsplash

This article also appears on Medium

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Sunflower ~ Bill Denbrough (Part 2)

A/n: WHEW!! Part two here we are! Aged up cause high school. Also, I had this started but I finished it for @slytthh because they were excited so I hope its to your liking hun :)

Word Count: 2240

Anon: Pidge

MASTERLIST

If I could, I'd change overnight. I'd turn into something you'd like. But I'm a sunflower, a little funny. If I were a rose, maybe you'd pick me?

Y/n couldn’t remember exactly how she’d become a Loser, but she supposed there was no going back now, huh?

Her hands planted against Sally Mueller’s chest, shoving the girl away from Y/n’s friends. “They won’t punch you, you annoying ass bitch,” Y/n seethed. “But I will not hesitate.” Sally - who was only too aware of how Y/n was constantly on the hunt for any reason to hit her, Greta, or Marcia - backed off.

“Whatever,” she grumbled. Sally looked over Y/n’s shoulder. “You won’t always have your little guard dog to protect you. Then I’m breaking those stupid buck teeth of yours, Tozier.” Y/n jerked the threateningly and Sally skittered away, causing Richie to bust up laughing.

Richie moved next to his friend, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Thanks for having my back as usual, Short Stack.”

“Just because you’ve grown to be eight feet tall doesn’t mean that in my normal human height I can’t still kick you in the balls.” Richie recoiled, his smile vanished as Y/n smirked, Eddie giggling in the background. Y/n’s smile faded. “But for real, Rich, you need to learn how to keep your mouth shut. You’re lucky I was nearby. AGAIN. One of these days those precious glasses of yours will be too broke to even tape together.” Her finger reached up, tapping the forever taped bridge of Richie’s glasses, which had been broken as long as any of the Losers could remember.

The dark haired boy sighed. “Just because they can’t handle me doesn’t mean I should stop delivering.” He winked and Y/n smiled, shaking her head at one of her best friends. What a moron. “Come on, Loser Number 7, we have to meet the others for lunch.” Richie put his arm around Eddie in a way that was so different from how he had put it around Y/n, pulling ahead of the girl to talk to his boyfriend while Y/n lagged behind to give them some space.

She watched her two best friends, smiling to herself. Her smile was a little sad, a little wistful. She saw how they went back and forth, arguing and insulting, and yet there was still so much love between them that Aphrodite’s powers couldn’t even begin to compare. There was no goddess of Love, just Richie and Eddie and the connection between them that Y/n was convinced could be broken by nothing. Not time or space or the world or the people in it. Nothing.

As the trio approached the Loser’s usual lunch table, Y/n spotted something that turned her wistfulness into pure pain. Bill. He was talking to Stan, who was surely talking about Mike after their anniversary date the previous night. Bill was leaning over, elbows on the table, laughing and smiling as Stan spoke. Y/n imagined for a split second - for maybe the millionth time - sidling up next to Bill, resting her head on his shoulder as he had his arm around her, his lips finding hers or maybe just resting a few second against her hair line. Quiet love like Stan and Mike had. Or maybe tickle wars and giggling races and declared challenges where we both smirked at each other daringly as sexual tension rose and finally exploded like with Richie and Eddie.

Y/n sat next to Stan, pushing the thoughts out of her mind. She would like to think that she had gotten over Bill these last few years, simply wishing for ANY romance where Bill was the easiest target since all her other friends were either taken or unable to settle on just one person for any long amount of time, like Ben. She would like to think that she didn’t really wish for kisses from Bill but from anyone. The reality was, she had fallen into a sort of quiet observational love that was very grown up but would remain forever unrequited in the state it was in. Half and incomplete because she wouldn’t give Bill even a chance to return it.

High school ended soon and Y/n had simply reserved herself to never telling Bill how she felt. She was sure this would go away eventually. She would find someone, she just knew it. Or she would be alone. She had her friends and her sister, how could she need anything else? She had a really good thing going on with Bill just being friends and she didn’t want to ruin it.

For the most part, Y/n acted on that notion. That she just wanted to be friends. The Losers were all pretty sure she didn’t like Bill. But some did have their doubts. Sometimes, when one of them was upset, the way Y/n drifted towards Bill and hung onto him was different than how she confided or comforted the other Losers. As if his presence and smell and warmth was different air that healed her soul. Like just being around him was comfort enough without either of them saying anything. It was the way that Stan reached for Mike’s hand or Richie pulled Eddie close.

Sometimes as well, Y/n would get quiet, just listening as her friends talked and smiling or nodding or laughing. Listening and not talking, when suddenly her eyes would drift to Bill because she’d zoned out or because he was talking or even because he was sitting there silently and she was checking on him. Her eyes would rest on him and her face wold soften and her eyes would kind of glaze over, as if she was looking at him and seeing something else in the lines of his face and the curves of his lips. Seeing someone else. A future or an alternative reality where they were different people doing different things. She was daydreaming.

She never did any of these things with the other Losers. There were the most microscopic, short lived nuances that the Losers saw and... wondered. But there just wasn’t enough to really considered it. Surely Y/n just thought about Bill as a friend?

But maybe she didn’t.

This way, Y/n kept her secret from all of her friends without changing much about how she dealt with him or the thoughts and feelings that went on inside of her where no one could see. She had trained herself to be calm and quiet and reserved only about her love of Bill, hiding it behind a wall of small smiles and dreamy glances that were only a split second long. And she really had resolved to live just like that.

Eddie Kaspbrack had not.

But I know you don't have a clue this sunflower's waiting for you- Waiting for you.

Eddie watched Y/n closely, unabashedly staring her down. She didn't even notice. The more Eddie paid attention to it, the more he realized that more times than Y/n liked to admit - even to herself - the only person in the room who could really hold her attention for long and without break was Bill. Ben was hard for her to keep up with and the two had been drifting apart for a while. Everyone else was mostly engaged with their boyfriend, leaving a pang of pain in Y/n's chest as she longed for something that she saw in the couples but could not have herself. Only Bill was safe to look at, talk to.

Except he wasn't. Not really.

He had been watching very closely and he was sure. He was so sure that he was angry. He was angry at Bill for being so oblivious; for Y/n being so good at hiding her feelings. He was mad that his very best friend couldn't be as happy as he was with the person she wanted to be happy with. Eddie knew as well that Y/n could make Bill so happy. She was so caring and just such a good, kind, thoughtful soul. God knew that Bill needed someone who would treat him as well as he deserved to be treated. He'd lost the only family that had been good to him when he was young and the loneliness had taken an obvious toll on him over the years.

It would be near evil to just tell Bill how Y/n felt, though. And Y/n could just deny it, and then he would have ruined his friendship with her. Of the people in this world, Y/n was second on the list of people he couldn't stand to lose- Richie being number one.

One by one, Eddie got the other Losers into his scheme to get Y/n and Bill together. Richie wasn't hard to convince; he liked to get involved with Eddie's schemes like humans liked to breathe air. Mike and Ben were a little harder, since they didn't want to pry where Y/n obviously didn't want them, but all Eddie had to do was remind them that Y/n was alone and so was Bill and they could make each other so happy- and, since Y/n had gotten Stan to admit his feelings for Mike, Mike kind of owed her... Stan was far harder to convince, recalling how much he'd hated being poked at and prodded and pushed together against his will and insisting that Y/n would hate it even more since she had a specific thing about both being controlled and about showing her feelings when she wasn't ready. With some help from Mike reminding how lucky they were that Y/n did all of that since they were so happy now (to finally convince him), Stan gave in with a last huffing, "If she stops being friends with us after this, it's your fault."

Eddie had laughed.

Now that everyone was in one it, Plan Apeshit (Richie's work) was a go.

-

First, they tried to force the two alone, thinking it would force them to have a conversation and that things would just naturally take off. Y/n had obviously been avoiding any one on one interactions with Bill, which drive the Losers to press it more. They thought they'd scored the day that Y/n and Bill cuddled on the couch without either asking or an awkwardness about it, but it quickly became clear that while Y/n was still painfully in love with Bill, basking in his proximity, Bill was oblivious of what the closeness meant and overall didn't notice her longing glances and heart eyes even when they were inches from his face.

Drawing that as a failure since all that had happened is a sense of further easiness and more pain as Y/n simply learned to swallow her feelings even more and be close to Bill without staring or being obvious or outwardly showing how much she was hurting. It seemed that all they were succeeding in doing was helping her get OVER her feelings...

After a whole month of Y/n’s ease and no sign of the yearning that had barely been present before, Plan Apeshit was deemed a failure.

Until the Night.

All the Losers were over at Richie’s, keeping quiet as they watched a movie and Richie’s mom made dinner simply because she had insisted. Mike and Y/n had offered to help but she had insisted that she didn’t mind and wanted them to have fun, so all eight of them chilled out while they watched movies. At first Y/n had been sitting on the floor, Mike on the couch next to Bill. But then after they’d offered their help to Mrs. Tozier and she’d assured them, they had returned with Mike mindlessly slipping into Y/n’s spot by Ben as they continued a conversation from earlier. Y/n shrugged and changed her route to take her to Bill’s side. The second she sat down, Bill put his arm around the back of her chair without looking from the TV and Y/n didn’t even pause before leaning against him, her head on his shoulder and their sides pressed together, Y/n’s feet pulled up on the couch. About halfway through the movie Y/n started bouncing her leg and Bill offered his hand. “Distraction?” He whispered too quiet for anyone to hear. Y/n smiled, a soft chuckle coming from her as she accepted Bill’s offer, the energy in her leg moving to her hands as she played with Bill’s finger, keeping herself as quiet and still as possible.

Bill relaxed even more under her soft, soothing touch as her finger tips drew softly up and down his fingers and around on his palms, curving at his wrist before going up and repeating the process again at his thumb.

No one even noticed until the end of the movie when Mrs. Tozier called dinner to be ready, asking Richie to set the table and get his friends situated. Everyone rose, Y/n and Bill lingering a half second long enough for Eddie to turn, see their position, grab Mike’s wrist (who also looked over, saw the situation, and swallowed a smile as his eyes widened) and then tense up as he tried not to scream in victory right then and there before Y/n and Bill were on their feet and walking with everyone else.

The two were more relaxed and calm but other than that, you’d never know that they’d been cuddling. Mike and Eddie looked at each other. “Okay,” Mike mumbled, nodding as he spoke. “I had doubts before, but okay.”

Eddie grinned.

[calleo-bricriu]

Guess what I’m still reading? Still reading out of spite but, still reading?

That awful book.

Right, let's get back to the worst book I've ever read and, to note, I am including every single malicious, aggressive, definitely is trying to kill you it's not your imagination Dark Arts book I have ever handled in my entire life, just so we're clear about how bad this story is.

Chapter 5 opens with Leigh, the clear projection of the doctor-author himself, waking up in a room he doesn't recognise and not thinking anything about that is weird, instead writing it off as to it being his "inherent love for the sea" guiding him there.

He then talks for most of the rest of the page about how he has no idea how long he's been there and maybe it was his 'second personality' that was in control which is the first mention we see of that ever having been an issue from him--unless that's just his way of saying, "Must've gone on a bender again."

Tries for awhile to figure out what day it is, apparently gives up, and decides to re-focus on winning...something...from his sister and that doing that would save his son who, as far as we know (as he's only been briefly mentioned), is perfectly fine and not in need of any sort of saving.

Several paragraphs of rambling about how sane and calm he is to the point that he’s sort of proven he’s neither.

Buys a newspaper, finds out he's been blackout drunk for ten solid days, finds out from some random guy on the hotel porch that he bought a yacht.

At this point, I'll remind you that previous chapters indicate he hasn't held a steady job in over a year (mostly due to being drunk and crying to the barman that he's such a misunderstood genius), is always weeks behind on bills, and hasn't paid rent in a few months but somehow dredged up money to buy a yacht while on a bender.

Isn't bothered by this, doesn't think it's indicative of a drinking problem and also it's not his fault because the yacht seller should have known he was drunk and not sold it to him or something.

This is, like, four entire pages in to chapter five and I'm already so tired.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement could read this book aloud in interrogations but even the Ministry might consider it torture.

Oh, Leigh’s problem isn't drinking, by the way; it's "psychic epilepsy" so it's definitely not his fault.

That's--not actually a real thing.

Anyway.

Dozen or so pages of him internally trying to figure out how the hell to get out of this, "I bought a yacht with money I have no idea how I got and possibly got by doing something very illegal" situation.

His wife is also apparently not bothered by this behaviour either, she's just happy to see him; I'd be the opposite because this has been shown to be a pattern of behaviour on his part but, well, she buys the "psychic epilepsy" excuse because she's terrified of being seen as a nag.

Nag him, good lord, do something that isn't completely enabling him to be this way.

Now the narrative is going on and on and on about "unreasonable women" who would pretty reasonably be upset if their husband couldn't hold a job, wouldn't even try to get one, wouldn't let her get one, couldn't pay the bills, and routinely did things like tell her he'd be home in a few hours then go on a 3-10 day bender and show back up without a word.

That's a reasonable set of behaviours to be at least a little annoyed about.

Leads into how it's hereditary, this psychic epilepsy thing, so absolutely not his fault.

He's a regularly paid published author now, by the way, and has been for some time despite this being the first time it's ever been mentioned in any capacity. The only two other careers we've seen from this guy are something to do with working in a laboratory in Germany and working at a hospital as a doctor before being almost immediately fired for a combination of the constant drinking and possibly just being sort of insufferable to be around at work.

Some guy named Rob walks in. No introductions apart from that, we're all just meant to know who the hell Rob is despite this being his first appearance.

Some guy named Charlie/Dr. Bell is also just randomly mentioned and is also in...the house sleeping. People think he's lazy but he's really just conservative, whatever that means.

Find out Mizpra was engaged to some guy named Moore who dumped her to go to Yale, which is evidently why she turned into a "masculine" bitch. Sure, why not?

Philosophy attempts again from Leigh the Misunderstood Genius (who definitely does not have a drinking problem and knows more than you about everything): "Love, Charlie, is  like medical treatment; if it is free, given lavishly and procured without sacrifice, it is thrown aside at pleasure, and the giver ridiculed and derided. Haud expertus loquor."

Okay, first of all, that's not what love OR medical treatment is like. Not even--remotely, especially medical treatment.

Second, stop trying to sound smart with the Latin; all you said was "not experience" there, Mr. Genius who is definitely not a direct projection of the quack doctor of an author.

Leigh used to pay stenographers to go to class for him and take notes so he could go and give theatrical performances to "insane patients". Lovely guy.

Just to remind you, we’re meant to be sympathising with Leigh in this story, not wanting to strangle him every time he opens his mouth to bore everyone for ten pages.

Leigh refuses a drink while they're all at dinner which is one of the few good choices he's made in 81 pages and a little over a year in terms of the story's time line but then ruins it all for answering a joke about it being because he's married with PAGES AND PAGES of him trying to be a fucking philosopher again and just boring the bollocks off of everyone both in the book and reading it. How the hell does this guy know what delirium tremens are yet still thinks his entire problem is caused by psychic epilepsy and not alcoholism?

Charlie asks about money for some reason, probably trying to change the topic and get this moron to stop pretending he knows what he's talking about in any capacity.

That triggers three pages of him doing the same thing, only about money this time. At least in this case, it's mentioned that Leigh "got carried away" so there's a glimmer of self awareness. Probably the only one we'll ever see.

They agree to play golf tomorrow and Leigh and Obera just--get up and leave, despite dinner having not even been delivered to the table yet. Nobody seems to notice.

Chapter 5 is now over.

Chapter 6 time skips an entire year and starts with Mrs. Newcomber and Mizpra sitting outside and it's mentioned it's been a year since Leigh tried to see her so--about a year passed between chapters five and six.

Mother dearest is described as a "pliant tool" that Mizpra somehow convinced to go to Colorado Springs to open up a school, and that's where we are now.

Colorado.

Mizpra gets to pick the ladies who get to go to the school and just seems to do so on a whim, which has made her and it wildly unpopular; fair reaction, no explanation given as to why she acts like that just that she did it "without giving any satisfactory reason."

Colorado has lots of "clever physicians" (but not enough, probably because Leigh isn't there. Yet.) but Colorado is populated by people who just hate doctors. Despite that, they keep moving there.

Then, it skips to Mizpra reading mail and one letter, "announced the  marriage of the plastic Zora to an untutored, scheming Yankee lawyer."

Okay.

First question: Who the HELL is Zora?

Second question: This isn't really a question, I'm just reasonably certain that lawyers, even lawyers in 1901, had to have some level of formal schooling. Then again, so did doctors and here we are with this guy who apparently just slept through every single year of med school he went to.

Someone named Marcia wrote as well and Mizpra doesn't like her either because she "insisted on standing for her rights" and was married to an "unknown quantity." No idea who Marcia is or how she knows Mizpra, it's not been explained yet but has been introduced in a way we’re supposed to know already.

Dr. Bell we finally fucking find out was a friend of her father's and that's why he knows both her and Leigh.

Could have explained that back in chapter five when the character was introduced but, hey, I'm no doctor, what do I know about constructing a coherent story?

Dr. Bell wrote to yell at Mizpra about her being mean to Leigh and his son. Not to Obera, to whom she has been directly mean multiple times so far, just to Leigh and his still unnamed son. The kid's like two years old now and we still haven't been told his name he's that irrelevant to the plot.

Somehow this trips her to decide she needs to just completely ruin Leigh's life because he's an obstacle to her 'designs and ambition' but it's never been explained what those are. It also doesn't explain what she's planning to do just that "she must place him in such a position as to make him helpless in his struggle for his rights. With these thoughts, horrible, fiendish, partly laid schemes arose".

They are never explained.

Maybe she's going to open another school that's just for boys and purposely and repeatedly deny his 2 year old son entrance, I have no idea at this point.

While she's distracted coming up with vague plans, her mother interrupts and says what amounts to, "I'm blind but even I can see you're an old maid."

Harsh.

Her response is to go on about how disgusting marriage is and "what poor, weak, helpless creatures women are! Such a degrading, vile, humiliating acceptance of the loss of personal freedom."

...okay. I guess that's one way of telling your mum to fuck off and that it's not that you CAN'T get married it's that you don't WANT to.

She calls some woman named Jane in to ask her if she...washed the horse yet.

The reply is "yes, mum" which is evidently how Jane pronounces ma'am. She tells Mizpra that she'd be better off hiring a man because mares respond better to men which is not at all how horses work.

Then, we have this exchange:

"No, Jane; what a man can do a woman can do better."

"You do be joking, Miss. How about the babies?"

"There are two many of them now. You should be a woman, Jane."

I was following Mizpra there up until the, "You should be a woman, Jane" bit when Jane has already been described as a woman several times in two paragraphs.

Jane tells her she is a woman and wants to get married and start a family some day, which makes Mizpra angry and somehow the author seems like this is a good time to mention her muscular frame because--that's not a thing women are allowed to have, and to emphasise that Mizpra is not a ‘good woman’, we just occasionally remind everyone how masculine she is.

I know we're meant to dislike Mizpra but, at this point, she's the most sympathetic character here, having to put up with all this nonsense and having the only reasons we're told she's 'bad' is because she has all these masculine traits (from previous chapters, broad shoulders, a deep voice, a square jaw, an 'unwomanly' figure, narrow hips, the author stopped just short of saying, "Yeah, she's basically a man in a dress that tells everyone she's my sister.")

This is page 88 of 403.

Anyway, Mizpra storms off because Jane's, "I want to get married some day" got her that mad, sits down at her desk, and starts reading which is also framed as a bad thing because Good Women don't use their brains for that, what's the matter with you?

Starts talking to herself about how her mom called her an old maid which, I mean, if she's single, not married, and implied to be over 40 that's--sort of what old maid meant. She says, to nobody in particular because she’s the only one in the room, "Well, I think I can show my sisters that I can throw off that appellation and still rule man!"

Now she needs a secretary and a lawyer to always be with her 24/7 and we finally find out that Zora and Marcia are her sisters.

That could have been mentioned much earlier in the story.

What is up with the naming conventions in this family anyway? Every other sibling gets a normal name and the others get names like Zora and Mizpra?

So, what we know now is that Mizpra:

A) Thinks her sister Zora is dumb as hell.

B) Thinks Marcia is whoring around and the way it's written comes off as envious not, "How shameful!" Nothing is stopping you from doing it too, Mizpra.

C) Thinks Leigh is a "clever fool" with a "spewing brat" and a "little, weak, dependent" all of which are entirely fair.

She goes off to arrange visiting Leigh, hoping the trip back East screws with their mother's health enough that she'll gain full power of attorney which is part of whatever evil devious plot she's got going.

Gets up to go to the mirror and get dressed, laments that she "had lost all youthful appearance of womanhood, though still young in years" gets mad at her reflection and throws everything on the vanity at the mirror then goes with, "No, I'll use my intellect, my power over him, not the feminine baubles of Eve."

Over who? Your brother? Please tell me you weren’t considering trying to be sexy for your brother.

She is then described as "short of hair and short of sex" on account simply because her hair is short. Again, the whole, "Hey, hey, have there been enough clues given to tell you that she's just straight up ugly like a man in a dress??" thing.

Even with the, "Hopefully this trip basically almost kills my mother so I can take all of her stuff and cut my brother out of the will" thing she's still the most sympathetic character so far.

Mrs. Newcomber's only real skill aside from being blind and insulting one of her daughters is droning on and on and on about the religious of ancient Egypt.

Then it goes into something that's--nice, actually, though probably wasn't considered a good thing at the time--about how more women should focus on getting an education so they're not stuck being a housewife if that's not what they want to do but, since it's 1901 that's not a thing and it wraps up with how they only think that because "neither knew they the emotions dormant in a woman's breast."

Which are, apparently, to be an uneducated housewife and mother because that’s what the men like.

We’ll just forget the fact that Mrs. Newcomber was married and has had at least four children that have made it to adulthood. That’s not important now. The important thing is she’s being an icky teacher and learning things now. How fucking unladylike.

Mizpra then goes outside, says hello to someone,  like that's it, "Hello, Burke!" and it's framed as a "clumsy attempt at coquetry". What? She--she literally just said hello to someone she knew! That's not how flirting works.

Burke, who is a pale, sickly young man, had evidently told her however long ago the other day was that he loved her and he thought she was mad at him about that.

She tells him she's not mad and explains she was in Denver and his response is to ask her why she's playing with him, she says she's not, he tells her she's being cruel (somehow? maybe because she keeps calling him a silly boy, which is, frankly, rude as hell), and we find out that Burke--as if the name and physical description weren't enough to indicate this--is kind of a social outcast because he's awkward and weird and more than a little bit dim.

But, he overheard some gossip about her and now she's literally shaking him down to make him tell her. Basically, The Men Folk don't like her ideas about women having an education, the public hates it too, and if it were the Middle Ages they'd just burn her at the stake.

Again, Mizpra comes off as the most sympathetic character in the story so far.

Oh, and she apparently doesn't like corsets and made some doctor's daughter, who is a student at her school, remove it at the front of the classroom then kept her standing there while showing all of the other girls the creases a corset puts into the skin which is admittedly entirely inappropriate for a dress code violation.

That's not the problem though, the problem is that Mizpra’s hands were "so cold and rough" that she fainted, and the implied manly hands and fainting are the part everyone is upset about.

Her reasoning for it was that the doctor's daughter, "is suffering from the feminine folly of imitating the male sex in all animal life on the globe--that is, the garnishing of the body to attract the opposite sex."

Again, not how that works; in most species, it's the male that gets all flashy and showy to attract a much drabber female's attention. I do sometimes listen to Lazarus ( @pocketsfullofspiders )  when he's talking about his work.

At the end of all that Burke...asks Mizpra to marry him at specifically 8pm that evening? What?

Okay.

Her response is to ask him if he knows how to use a typewriter. I actually kind of like her at this point, apart from the whole half undressing a teenager in front of the entire class thing.

Anyway, she agrees, because he knows how to use a typewriter so I think she just hired him as her secretary and he agreed to it because I guess his payment is getting to marry her at 8 that evening.

She leaves to go do the getting a marriage license thing and just talks to herself the whole way about how gross Burke is and, ew, he kissed her chin because she didn't get out of the way fast enough, what a fucking creep.

That's going to be a great marriage.

She chose her dressmaker based on the fact that that particular dressmaker's shop offers free cocktails to customers. Fair enough if you're getting fitted for a wedding dress to get married to someone you can't stand.

The reverend that's going to marry them is someone she's got under her thumb; she basically paid to clean up his reputation because he'd ruined it due to just sort of being a drunk, kind of like her brother. Takes him outside and first says she needs to ruin her brother's life.

With alcohol. "[...] and any other scheme you can concoct."

Leigh's weaknesses are, of course, alcohol and evidently women.

She'll pay him a salary to do this and also essentially said if he spends i ton gambling she'll track him down and break every bone in his body.

I'm still not really disliking her.

She then calls him a wind bag and a hypocrite, which he takes as a set of compliments.

He's also mad she's getting married but corrects himself and says it's a miracle; she tells him it's to Burke Wood, and gets, "He can't live six months; and married he won't live six weeks."

HAHAHA! Wives are terrible, am I right?

Her response to that is he definitely will because she's going to take good care of him and 'treat him humanely' which I feel like is the bare minimum required for a marriage, treating someone humanely.

His take on that is, "She is a eunuch in heart and mind! She possesses the soul of a sewer."

And Mizpra becomes an even more sympathetic character.

Some family she knows passed by in a carriage didn't see her so didn't wave to her and now she's also spitefully planning to ruin their lives over being blanked. Settle down, Mizpra.

Goes home, tells mom she thinks they should go see Leigh, mom rightfully points out that Mizpra has spent like two entire years repeatedly explaining why they shouldn't ever do that for any reason and that turns into a debate that the mother eventually loses and is convinced to sign over power of attorney to Mizpra.

She then explains she's getting married that evening then going to Denver the next day and her mother's only concerns about this are of her not--"taking care of Burke on your wedding night". Good priorities.

For some reason she goes off on how she has a fucking job and isn't getting married to turn herself into "a mere setting hen, a female destitute of all ideas save one--that of breeding" which is somehow shocking to her mother.

Mizpra isn't even going to tell Burke she's headed to Denver tomorrow morning until after they're married so he can't back out.

This honestly sounds like a lot of Pureblood marriages now.

Later on we find out that Burke has inexplicably been asking Mizpra to marry him for "some time" now so he's really bad at taking the hint.

So, those two are married now and he has no problems with her going to Denver on business and I'm not sure why the last half of the chapter was spent making it seem like that would be a Big Issue when his response was, more or less, "That's cool, I know how work is."

That's the end of chapter six and this is just so stupidly exhausting that I'm not even going to try to start chapter seven tonight.

Up to page 103 of 403 though!

[mst3kproject]

307: Daddy-O

I am nearly convinced that Alphabet Antics represents some kind of early MKULTRA experiment. There’s something about the juxtaposition of the chaotic imagery and the narrator’s soothing voice… like it’s trying to put me into a trance and a seizure at the same time.  I don’t yet feel any need to ask my neighbours if they’re communists but it might take a while to sink in.

On to the movie.  Our hero is Phil, who’s sort of a prototype of Buffalo Bill from Riding With Death in that he’s a singer, a trucker, and a racecar driver all in one.  As the film opens he’s just met a girl named Janet who’s even worse at both driving and social skills than he is – clearly they were made for each other.  Sure enough, they team up to investigate the death of Phil’s nerdy friend Sonny, and discover he was making deliveries for a drug ring.  Unusually for a movie like this, they do end up agreeing to call the cops, but only after they have committed several more crimes, and this waiting nearly gets them both killed.

I don’t like Daddy-O, but that’s not so much because of anything the movie does wrong as just because it’s not the kind of film I enjoy.  As MST3K features go, it’s actually not bad – not great, certainly, but solid enough.  The race scenes aren’t all that exciting, but we’re never at a loss for what’s going on.  The exposition can be clunky, but it tells us what we need to know.  The main character doesn’t make much of an impression, but we’re only gonna be spending seventy-three minutes with him and there’s enough going on that it doesn’t matter, and the movie never tries to do anything that’s beyond its meager budget.

The music, meanwhile, is pretty good.  I’m not gonna run out and buy the album (was there an album?) but the songs are quite catchy in a good way, and the score as a whole isn’t bad. I guess that makes sense, since the John Williams who wrote it was in fact that John Williams.  Like Vilmos Zsigmund shooting Mixed-Up Zombies or J. J. Abrams mixing sound for Nightbeast, everybody’s gotta start somewhere.  The music even approaches having some story relevance: the first song Phil sings is Rock Candy Baby, about a woman whose defining feature is her sweetness, and whom the narrator views as a possession (Rock Candy Baby, you’re mine).  Wait’ll I Get You Home suggests a less innocent relationship, in which both parties are a little more aggressive – he directs this towards Marcia, but we are meant to see that his tastes have changed as he grows to like the abrasive Janet.

Why he likes her I don’t know. I don’t know why any of us are supposed to like Janet (it’s so weird to think there was a time when that name could belong to a cute blonde in a sports car, rather than a woman who wants to speak to your manager).  She’s smug and rude the first time we meet her, lies in the knowledge that the road workers will take her side because boobies, and only changes her attitude towards Phil when she realizes he could make a pretty convincing case that she’s a murderer.  She’s supposed to be a ‘liberated woman’, doing what she wants and keeping the company that pleases her, but Phil disapproves of this and so does the movie.

The way Phil behaves towards Janet isn’t particularly admirable, either.  He talks down to her and manhandles her, and declares several times that if she were a man he’d punch her.  I hope nobody in my audience is the type of clown who’d ask ‘if women are equal does that mean men are allowed to hit them?’ but in case somebody is: I don’t think people should hit each other at all, outside of in self-defense or sports that require it.  Since neither of these apply to Phil and Janet then no, he should not hit her, no matter how obnoxious she’s being, and this would be true if she were a man, too.

Why are we supposed to root for these two to hook up?  None of their interactions are romantic and their arguments, rather than building sexual tension, just make it look like they can’t stand each other.  The ‘rivals to lovers’ trope was already old when Shakespeare did it, but Much Ado About Nothing makes it clear from the beginning that Beatrice and Benedick are actually rather fond of each other and enjoy their insult contests.  When our first interaction between our romantic leads has one party threatening to deck the other, that doesn’t work.

Another character I don’t quite get is Daddy-O’s criminal mastermind, Mr. Sidney Chillas.  Between his way of talking and his love of steam baths and manicures, I have a feeling he might be a gay stereotype of some sort, but I don’t know enough about the 50’s mindset to say.  He seems to think very highly of himself, particularly his intellect, and yet his reasons for hiring Phil don’t make much sense.  If he were half as smart as he claimed to be he would have turned this man away as soon as he learned that Phil had been taking an interest in Sonny’s death – or at least watched him far more closely, as he implied to his lackeys he would.

Is this the joke, that Chillas thinks he’s smart and he’s not? If so, it should be a repeated source of humour, rather than just a single doozy of a stupid mistake.  Or is he actually supposed to be a brilliant strategist and businessman?  Because if that’s the case, then I don’t buy it.

Chillas’ questionable intelligence is linked to another thing in the plot that doesn’t work – it seems to be a complete coincidence that he decides he wants to hire Phil.  When I sat down to watch the movie again, I remembered it as Phil deliberately seeking employment with Chillas in order to find out what happened to Sonny.  I think this is supposed to be part of the reason, but it’s mostly implied, and it’s Chillas who approaches Phil in the club to talk employment with him.  At this point he should have already seen that Phil was hanging out with Sonny the night the latter was murdered.  Or if Chillas sought out Phil specifically to keep an eye on him (or indeed, both), that would work, too, but Chillas specifically says he does not find Phil suspicious.  The movie has already had a big coincidence when Sonny just happens to die along the route where Phil and Janet were racing.  It’s not allowed a second one.

Other than that, though, the movie works pretty well.  Events follow one another in a fairly logical sequence, and the clue that Sonny left exists for a reason other than being A Clue. Daddy-O really isn’t trying to teach us anything, but that’s okay.  All a movie really has to do is tell an engaging story, although ones that don’t have a psychological theme often end up feeling, as this one does, a bit unsatisfying.  The only thing it really emphasizes and returns to is that women are bad drivers.

Janet’s driving and her bad manners are the focus of what I guess is her character arc – at the beginning she’s driving like a madwoman and nearly causing accidents just to entertain herself, at the end she’s using her skills to deliver Chillas’ lackeys to the police.  At the beginning she’s rude and abrasive to Phil, by the end she’s fallen in love with him.  We’re not given any better a reason why she likes him than for him to like her. He’s been a jerk to her, too.

Phil’s arc is supposed to be falling in love with Janet, and that’s pretty much it.  He doesn’t learn anything much about himself or the world in the process.  It seems like he ought to confront the fact that his best friend, Sonny, didn’t trust him with the truth – shouldn’t there be some angst about that, or the fact that Sonny didn’t ask Phil for help paying for his mother’s treatment rather than turning to a life of crime?  Between that and the fact that Janet turns out to be a lot nicer once you get to know her, the movie could have been about how you can never be sure you know somebody, but they didn’t bother.

The friendship between Phil and Sonny was particularly poorly-handled. Phil says, some people have brothers, I had Sonny, but this is the epitome of telling rather than showing.  When we see the two interact, Sonny refuses to talk about what’s bothering, gives Phil a locker key, and vanishes.  We know nothing about Sonny other than that he apparently wasn’t too bright (he hid the drugs in his locker at a gym owned by a guy he must know works for Chillas), and so we find it hard to get involved in Phil’s quest to find out what happened to him.  We believe far more in Phil’s driving skills because we saw those in the opening sequence. It’s disappointing that the later scenes mostly just show him at a steering wheel in front of a projection screen, but because we’ve already seen him on the road, we can believe in it.

The problems in Daddy-O are pretty easy to pick out, and could have been fixed with just one more script rewrite – none of them would have required more money or even better actors, and they would have made the whole story much more satisfying and meaningful.  The movie as it is works well enough for a crummy B-picture, but just a little more work could have made it an A.  It was also supposed to be career musician Dick Contino’s big break into film, but he ended up being in only four movies between 1958 and 1960 before deciding it just wasn’t worth it.  Since one of the other three was Girls Town, that means no less than half his entire filmography was featured on MST3K!

[walpurga-nacht-academy]

Djinn’s Bride! ~A Celebration of Love~

Part 9

[Walpurga Nacht Academy]

[Djinn’s Lamp]

Djinn: Woken up from my centuries long nap, I am summoned by a mage of great power back to the realm of the mortals. As a djinn of incredible power and looks, it is no wonder that I am so sought after. To create life from nothing, to bring my Master uncountable riches, even making dancing elephants and camels - that is just scratching the top of the list of my accomplishments. And yet, how dissatisfied I feel with it all. When the call of the lamp pulls me away, I can’t help but think ‘Ah, what menial job will I be made to do again?’ It’s really a drag.

BUT! Instead of the king that I expect to see, or the cunning vizier, I am faced with eight beauties. And what’s more - they all want to marry me?! How did a poor, handsome djinn like me end up in this situation?! Well, if you want to find out-

Marcia: Ha? What the hell are you doing now?

Djinn: Haaaa, and I was just on the last line too. Gotta start from the top, I guess. Don’t interrupt me again, girlie. Ahem. Woken up from my centuries-

Marcia: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!! I’m serious right now! What the hell is this super lame monologue? It gives me the shivers just hearing about it! Seriously, just when you couldn’t get any creepier too… Oops, didn’t mean to say that aloud~

Djinn: To think you would be so out of touch with things… Alright, listen up, girlie, what I’m doing right now is a recap! I’m reminding our lovely audience of what just happened in the previous episodes so they get caught up to speed. So, to get back~ on~ track~! Woken up from my cen-

Marcia: Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Wait just a sec! Audience? Recap? Episodes? This isn’t a TV show, you know?! And why’d you make yourself sound way cooler than you are! Don’t think I’ve forgotten your betrayal just that easily! Ugh, I was supposed to get rich in a flash and yet… My heart is still wounded! Women don’t forget slights that easily!!

Djinn: Hm, you’re really not getting the appeal are you… Gonna have to deduct points for that… Hm…

Rosa: Heeeeeeey! Stupid, greedy Marcia!! Stop being useless and pay for your mistakes! Repent! 

Marcia: Grrrr! You sure like to weigh in a lot for a moron, dumb, idiotic, moronic Rosalia!

Rosa: HEY, YOU SAID MORON TWICE!! I HEARD YOU!!

Marcia: Bleh!

Djinn: Hm, kinda childish too… I’d have preferred a more mature style…

Marcia: Geh! You’re taking that into account too?! Haaa, you’re sure taking this seriously…

Djinn: Obviously! This is my future we’re talking about after all. On that note…

[RUMBLE]

Marcia: THE FLOOR IS MOVING AGAIN, UGH!! AND IT’S A PLATFORM TOO??

Djinn: Now!

Marcia: !!!

Djinn: IT’S TIME TO STAAAAAART!

Marcia: …

Djinn: … Hm?

Marcia: Eh?

Djinn: Well?

Marcia: Huh?!

Djinn: Your introduction! In~ tro~ duc~ tion~! It’s essential to getting the fans to root for you, girlie! That’s how you make it through the show~

Marcia: … No, I still haven’t got an idea what you’re talking about… But if it’s about making a pitch, I’m your girl! Ahem! 

[Hey, hey, hey~ Marcia Pyroeis reporting for duty! I’m a third year with a bright future in store, I promise ya! Getting along well with both my juniors and seniors and always knowing how to get out of a pinch! That’s me!]

Hehe, so whatcha think, hm? A keeper right?

Djinn: Hm~ It’s got energy. It’s got charm. I LIKE IT! FULL POINTS!

Marcia: YAHOO! Now, then how about you come closer and-

Djinn: Not so fast!

Marcia: Huh?! What now?! You said “FULL POINTS” didn’t you?! So why-

Djinn: Hm, that’s true. But you can’t think that would be enough! Love at first sight is just a fantasy, you know?! That’s why, we gotta check compatibility too!

Marcia: Co-Compatibility? Ugh, this got a lot more annoying all of a sudden… Do we have to, haha? After all, I’m already heads over heels for you! Anything more and I just might lose my mind~

Rosa: Woah, that scummy power of hers comes in handy at moments like this!

Blanche: It’s… definitely something impressive…

Djinn: Woah, woah, woah, for real?! Hm, I shouldn’t really be doing this, but I guess you’ll be getting a few extra points there, girlie!

Diana: He’s easy to fool.

Marcia: Really~? You’re way too kind~ Now then, now then, how about we-

Djinn: Not so fast! 

Marcia: ???

Djinn: You definitely have a lot of the right qualities. BUT!! I’m not an easy sort of djinn, you know?! I just don’t give my heart out to anybody! That’s why before we tie the knot you must first undergo a SURPRISE SCENARIO!

Marcia: EH?! SURPRISE- EH?! EEEEEH?!

Rosa: HE CAME UP WITH SOMETHING RIDICULOUS AGAIN!

Djinn: To properly test a couple’s compatibility, you can’t just stop at first impressions! There needs to be understanding and cooperation. That’s~ why~ THE SURPRISE SCENARIO WILL TELL US ALL WE NEED TO KNOW! IT’S FOOLPROOF!

Marcia: Crap, and I thought I had this in the bag… Ugh, this is so annoying… But, if it’s just some stupid question, I’m sure I can breeze through it… Alright! Let’s give it a shot! I’ll show you I’m the best suited for this role, dear~!

Agatha: ……. gross….

Djinn: Ooooh! That’s it, girlie! That’s the spirit I’m looking for! That sort of energy - IT’S FANTASTIC! 

Marcia: Hehehe, it’s definitely gonna be my victory, you moron…

Djinn: Ahem. This is your scenario: Adil and Farah have been dating for 5 years now after meeting at a company party, where he accidentally spilled some punch on her dress and was chastised thoroughly for it. Because it was an outfit from a well-recognized brand, Farah demanded that Adil take care of the dry-cleaning himself. Unfortunately coming from a low standing family he could not afford the fee for it, so he decided to make a deal with a corrupt bank manager to get the money in exchange for smuggling a few precious magical gems into the embassy which will be used to blow up the building once the ambassador and the king of the country are inside. Though he’s reluctant to agree he remembers the sick mother who’s at home, and realizes that he cannot burden her with this issue since she has also just started attending college to get her degree as a bread researcher. In order to get access to the basement of the building, Adil calls up some old acquaintance from his time in the magical police who helps him secure an invitation thanks to his cousin who is actually the Prince of a foreign land. They pass Adil off as the royal confectioner, a role he is able to perform thanks to his previous career as a successful movie star actor. On the day of the heist they are able to sneak into the basement, but on their way out they bump into Farah who turns out to also be the Chief of Security for the king that’s coming to visit. In the ensuing scuffle Adil is suddenly reminded that Farah is in fact his long, lost childhood friend that he hasn’t seen since the hurricane hit their town and almost razed everybody to the ground. They embrace tearfully and realize that they have feelings for each other~

Romantic, right~?

Marcia: WHAT’S THE HELL KIND OF SCENARIO IS THIS?!

Djinn: Hm? What do you mean? It’s obviously a romcom!

Marcia: ‘OBVIOUSLY’?! HOW IS ANY OF OBVIOUS?! MY BRAIN IS JUST HURTING FROM TRYING TO WRAP MY HEAD AROUND IT!!

Djinn: Hey, hey, that’s super rude! It’s a great premise with a cool hook! Anybody would be able to relate to them! Especially Adil! Isn’t he just super cool?

Marcia: Haaaaaaaaa?! What the hell is cool about him?! Rather just what the hell is his deal?!

Djinn: Eh? His deal? Is there something you dislike about him?

Marcia: Dislike?! There are a ton of things I dislike about him! Like, what the hell is up with his thinking process?! He’s gonna make some shady deal with a corrupt banker for some dry-cleaning fee?! Isn’t that way too extreme?! He could have just used a cleaning spell!!

Djinn: ….

Marcia: Or rather!! You’re telling me that somebody who’s been in the magical police and was a famous actor didn’t put some money aside for emergencies?! What kind of negligence is that, huh?! And how old is this guy to have held so many jobs and still be on the bottom rung of a company, huh?! It makes no sense!!

Djinn: …

Marcia: This whole situation is just senseless!! Ain’t he complicating things too much with his insane logic?! I don’t get it!! I don’t get him at all!! Who even came up with this type of story?!

Djinn: … Me…

Marcia: … Huh?

Djinn: It was me. I am the author of “Super Lovey Dovey Secret Agents Who Are Also Childhood Friends, But On Opposite Sides of the Battle Raging On Between Their Two Companies, So They Must Make sure Their Supervisors Don’t Find Out About It”.

Marcia: Crap!

Rosa: IT’S EVEN GOT A RIDICULOUS NAME!

Djinn: You know, I always fancied myself a bit of a screenwriter. This was supposed to be my magnus opus… My masterpiece… The story that would mark my debut in the literary world… and yet…

Marcia: Just joking~!

Djinn: Hm? 

Marcia: Hahaha, you took all that seriously! It was a joke! All just a joke, I swear! You’ve completely misinterpreted my words~

Rosa: SHE’S ACTUALLY MAKING A MOVE TO TRY AND SALVAGE ALL THIS?! SERIOUSLY?! IS SHE FOR REAL?! 

Djinn: … Is that so? 

Rosa: EEEEEH?! HE’S BUYING IT TOO?

Marcia: Yeah, yeah~ That story!! It was, uh, super cool! 

Djinn:... Really?

Marcia: Of course! It was, um, sooooooo dynamic! A lot of things happened and… Adil was such a cool character! Yeah! Yeah! Really, uh, carried the story and all that! 

Djinn: …

Marcia: You have such a gift for this!! Seriously! I’m in awe of your talent!! Hahahaha…

Djinn: … I see.

Marcia: Hm? Se-See what exactly?

Djinn: It’s been made clear to me just what sort of compatibility we have.

Marcia: Th-That soon?! Hey, you barely even gave me a chance to work my char- I mean! Don’t you think that it’s still too early to tell, hm~? We should get to know each other a little better before that~ Hey, hey~!

Djinn: Hm, no, rather I think that it’s [TIME UP]!

Marcia: EEEEEEEEH?!

[CLICK]

Rosa: SHE GOT CAUGHT IN THE HOURGLASS TOO!!

Cass: Mi-Mi-Mi-Miss Pyroeis!!

Diana: …

Blanche: This is…

Vita: How unfortunate~

Djinn: And done~ Now, let’s see who’s next, hm~?

Rosa: WAIT JUST A MOMENT!

Djinn: Hm? What is it, fluffy hair? Do you wanna volunteer?

Rosa: E-Eh?! No, no, no, no, no! No way! Absolutely no way!

Djinn: Mm, maybe it’s for the best. Flat types like you are kinda…

Rosa: HEY!

Blanche: Excuse me.

Djinn: Oh, you too, bunny girl? Man, I sure am popular~! Having so many girls after me~

Blanche: … A-Ah. In truth, there was something that I was curious about…

Djinn: Sure, sure~ Go straight ahead~ If it’s from my future cute wife then any request is A-OK with me!

Rosa: Then-

Djinn: Ah, except asking to drop out of the wedding, of course! 

Rosa: Ugh!

Blanche: No, it’s rather… Just what are your specifications for a ‘wife’?

Djinn: Specifications?

Blanche: Yes. I understand why Himalia-senpai was locked up, but even though Marcia was… well, even though she acted the way she did, was just that the reason you locked her up?

Djinn: ‘Just that’?! You don’t get it, bunny girl!

Blanche: Hm?

Djinn: It’s all about compatibility! Com~ pa~ ti~ bi~ li~ ty~! If we’re not a good match then getting married is a no go for me! I don’t wanna get stuck in a loveless relationship and suffer at the hands of somebody cruel~ My heart is too fragile for that!

Blanche: I-I see… then, just what exactly did you find displeasing about Marcia and Himalia-senpai specifically?

Rosa: Ha?! Blanche?! Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking of going through with it?! After all the time you protested?!

Diana: No. It’s not that.

Rosa: Huh?

Diana: If we want to strike, it’s best to be forewarned. 

Rosa: Eh?

Cass: Um, it, me-means that we should ga-gather as much information a-as possible, Miss Mo-Morgainne…

Blanche: I think it would be beneficial for both of us to understand your preferences a little better, don’t you agree?

Djinn: Hm~ You’re making some sense there, bunny girl. I guess I have nothing to lose from coming forward about this… Alright then! Now listen carefully! I’ll explain to you why compatibility matters!

You see, more than anything… I think violent women are super scary!

Blanche: Huh?

Djinn: Seriously~ When I saw that Amazon pick up that marble table like it was nothing at all, I got super freaked out! That thing was at least around 400 kg, you know? 

Rosa: THA-THAT HEAVY?! WHAT IS HIMALIA-SENPAI?! A MONSTER?! A GODDESS?! 

Djinn: Aaah, just seeing it come flying at me made me so nervous… And I’m made of smoke too! No, no, a violent type just won’t work!

Blanche: I… I suppose that’s understandable… Then Marcia?

Djinn: Hm? The tomboy? Hmmm, well, I have to admit I like the type who’s full of energy. Seeing a girl smile while giving her best really brings out that healing quality~ But…

Blanche: But?

Djinn: WOMEN WHO ARE TWO-FACED ARE NOT CUTE AT ALL!

Blanche: !!!

Djinn: Seriously! Changing her mind like that just because she found out that I was the author! There’s no way I could be able to stand a woman like that!

Blanche: I see, that is-

Djinn: If she started lying from the first and kept at it, that would have been another issue! At least my feelings would have been spared like that! But being told so rudely that my work is bad… NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT THE SORT OF WIFE I WANT!

Blanche: …

Rosa: Hey, isn’t it kinda all about him again?

Marcia: Blegh! Like I could even pretend to like that sort of badly written thing in the first place! There are limits of what you can ask from people, you know?! You moron! Idiot! Lame!

Rosa: Hey, are you seriously still goi- EEEEEEH?!

Marcia: Pffft, the expression you’re making now is even more stupid than usual, Rosalia! Guess it’s nice when you have no brains and a pretty face, huh?

Rosa: GRRRRR! BEING LOCKED UP IN A HOURGLASS IS NOT PUNISHMENT ENOUGH FOR YOU!! YOU OGRE!!

Marcia: Haaaa, you’re still barking? Hahaha, now that's a funny sight, you kno- HUH?! WAIT! HUH?! YOU CAN HEAR ME?!

Rosa: I CAN HEAR YOU! I CAN HEAR JUST FINE! I CAN HEAR YOU GOING ON ABOUT HOW STUPID I AM, YOU JER-

Blanche: This is… 

Djinn: Hm? Ah, so you’ve noticed, didn’t you? 

Rosa: Noticed? Noticed what?

Diana: June’s is soundproof.

Rosa: Soundproof… Huh? You me-mean the hourglass?! Eh?! I-Is that even possible?!

Agatha: Stupid… amoeba… doesn’t… even… know… her… own… dorm… subjects… heheheheh

Rosa: HAAAAAA-

Blanche: Is this related to the complaint about her being violent…?

Djinn: Hm? Well, it’s rather… she’s just kinda annoyingly loud, you know? Loud women are also a no-go for me! I like my peace and quiet~

Blanche: I see…

Rosa: Eh? Hey, is it just me or is this guy’s list of preferences all over the place? 

Diana: Mm.

Cass: It’s, um, ra-rather confusing…

Rosa: Right?! He says he wants somebody energetic then he turns around and goes [I like my peace and quiet~]. It’s completely contradictory!

Blanche: It’s… not ideal… But we must try to figure out a way to escape from here still. Or else…

Rosa: Gulp.

back | next

[changingourdestiny]

Beyond Light Finale: Darknebula

Summary:

Rae has found herself separated from her fireteam and alone against Eramis. To finally put an end to the Kell of House Salvation, Rae finds herself calling upon a new power. But not the one she was expecting...

Previous Part: Here

Epilogue: Here

Rae could hear the muffled yells of Marcia and Tif as they banged against the forcefield behind her while Eramis approached her. “I know what you and your fellow pawns were up to. Did you really think I’d just let your stasis-wielding friends to help you?” Eramis chuckled, “How pathetic. The machine-spawn beloved by all; a hero among them, shaking like a pitiful worm.”

Rae glanced down at the auto rifle in her hands. Sure enough, her hands were shaking. ‘Why?’ Rae thought, ‘Ghaul, Xol, Panoptes; I’ve fought on my own before. So why am I so scared?’

“I can sense your fear.” Eramis continued, “You’re terrified of this power. The Darkness was not meant for you!” Eramis sent a wave of stasis spikes surging towards Rae who just managed to dodge them by gliding into the air but was knocked down by a blast from Eramis’s gun, “You do not understand this power!” Another wall of spikes came towards Rae as she got to her feet. But in a moment of quick thinking, she blasted it into a cloud of powder with her rocket launcher. Suddenly, Eramis emerged from the cloud and, before Rae could react, backhanded the Warlock, sending her flying back-first into a wall. “I will destroy you, your once Great Machine, and everyone you care for!” Eramis growled as she slowly approached Rae, who struggled to get to her feet, “Your chains are showing. All that power, wasted serving false gods. Allow me to help you break free.” Rae, getting increasingly frustrated, dashed at Eramis, preparing to summon her Dawnblade, when suddenly she froze in place. Eramis had used stasis to freeze her feet to the floor. Rae struggled to break free as the stasis began to climb up her body. “Ghost!” Rae exclaimed, straining against the effects as Ghost appeared beside her. “This is…I…I can’t- I’m sorry-” Ghost was cut off as Eramis blasted him with stasis, freezing him instantly as he fell to the ground. “No!” Rae eyes went wide in terror. She went to grab for her splinter, but it was snatched out of her hands by Eramis who crushed it with ease, “Look what I’ve one for you. No more Light. No more Dark.”

The stasis kept climbing up Rae, slowly freezing her in place. She felt her breathing become uneven as she started to become desperate and a million thoughts began to race through her head.

‘No, no, no! This can’t happen! I have to stop this! I have to save everyone! I have to-!’

“What about what YOU want?”

Rae heard Marcia’s voice echo through her head followed by Elsie’s words.

“Look within. Focus your power.”

‘I want…’

Rae felt her breath even out as it felt like time slowed around her.

‘I want…this all to end already. I want to be able to do things without having to worry about what other people think! I want to do things my way.’

Rae found herself glancing down at the frozen Ghost and then Eramis.

‘I want to make her pay for what she did. I want to make her feel pain tenfold. I don’t want to kill her. I want to rip her apart. Marcia was right…’

Rae felt a surge of energy swell up within her, but it was different to what she first felt with the shard. Eramis noticed a strange blue and black glow around her, “How interesting…”

The feeling became stronger and stronger until it felt like it was going to explode.

 ‘…I HAVE been holding back!’

 The stasis surrounding her exploded outwards, causing Eramis to stumble backwards in surprise. The explosion allowed Ghost to break out of his stasis prison, gliding back up as he shook off a few leftover crystals. He turned to Rae, about to ask if she was alright, but gasped in a mix of surprise and fear at what he saw. Rae’s helmet lay shattered on the floor. A pair of icy, skeletal dragon wings with cracks of Darkness emerged from Rae’s back, and a pair of icicle-esque horns emerged from her head. Her eyes were completely black aside from blue slitted pupils as Darkness dripped from them. “The only thing we have to break here…” Rae growled, “Is you.”

“Come then pawn. Show me what freedom has given you.” Eramis replied. Rae held out her arm as Paragon’s Fang appeared in her hand. Except it had changed. The plum and gold hilt was now blue and black, and the plum gem had dark cracks in it. The golden glow that once surrounded the blade now was a pitch-black colour. Rae let out an ear-shattering roar as she soared towards Eramis, skeletal wings spread wide. Eramis summoned a wall of stasis to block her but Rae crashed through it with ease and right into Eramis, sending the kell flying over the table and across the room. ‘This…’ Eramis thought to herself, ‘This is stasis but…it’s different. What the hell is she?’

Eramis didn’t have much time to think as Rae lunged for her again, attempting to slice at her with her falchion which Eramis blocked with her gun. As the two pushed against each other, Eramis managed to get a good look at Rae. Her teeth were bared and the fear and panic that once filled her eyes were replaced with rage. “I will tear the Darkness out from inside you.” Eramis growled. “I’ll tear you apart!!” Rae roared as she pushed Eramis back with a hearty shove. She held her falchion up high as shards of stasis appeared in the air around her. Eramis’s eyes went wide as Rae swung the blade down and the shards went flying towards her. Eramis managed to dodge some of them but got hit by the last few with one of them knocking the gun out of her hand. Rae could sense Eramis becoming desperate as the kell cursed under her breath in Eliksni before turning to the Warlock, “You are not special. The Darkness is MINE!” Eramis began sending out wave after wave of large stasis spikes, “This power was meant for me and the Eliksni! Not scum like you!”

“You’re lower than scum!” Rae yelled back as she swerved between them with relative ease before soaring upwards slicing through the air with her falchion, sending slices of stasis shooting straight down at Eramis. The kell could feel her movements slowing as Rae’s stasis began to have an effect on her.

“Who’s terrifed now?”

Eramis looked up and her eyes went wide upon seeing stasis crystals surrounding Rae’s falchion, forming a larger, icy blade as Rae glared down at her, “Who’s pitiful now?!”

Rae raised the blade and went shooting down towards the ground, slamming it against the ground which caused a huge wave of spikes go surging at Eramis, hitting her dead on and causing her to tumble across the floor. Rae slowly walked towards Eramis, her hate-filled glare transfixed on the kell as she struggled to get up.

“It will not end this way.” Eramis grunted as she got to her feet, “It can’t!” All of a sudden, Eramis felt a strange sensation in one of her arms. She glanced down and saw that her entire body was being frozen. “What?” Eramis gasped in horror. She briefly glanced at Rae who just glared at her with an unwavering, hateful expression. She desperately reached out for the Pyramid in the distance. “Nooo…!” her desperate cry for help was cut off as the last of the stasis consumed her, leaving her as a solid ice sculpture still reaching out for the distant Pyramid. Rae let out a sigh of relief as the falchion, horns and wings shattered into tiny particles and her eyes reverted to normal. She heard the sound of something deactivate behind her followed by the sound of running footsteps. She turned around to see Cayde and the rest of her Fireteam running towards her but stopping a few feet away. Cayde glanced between Rae and the frozen-solid Eramis before his concerned expression turned to one of relief. Rae let out a weak chuckle in response.

 The last thing she heard was Cayde calling out to her as everything went black.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “…ugh…”

Rae groaned as she tried to block out the throbbing pain in her head. As she tried to sit up, she noticed she was in what seemed like a sleeping bag. She glanced around and realised she was in Elsie’s campsite. She saw Marcia with her back to her, looking over a tablet while Cayde stood leaning back on one of the crates. He looked up upon hearing the rustling of the sleeping bag and his eyes widened seeing Rae had woken up. “Rae!” Cayde ran over to Rae, grabbing Marcia’s attention in the process. Rae stumbled a bit trying to stand but was helped up by Cayde. “You okay?” He asked. “World’s…worst…brain freeze…” she muttered with a smile. “Hey, the bad jokes are my thing!” Cayde chuckled, “Glad to see you’re alright, Sunrae.”

“Eramis…” Rae began, “Is she…?”

“She’s currently an ice sculpture in Riis-Reborn.” Marcia smirked, “Drifter’s tempted to bring her aboard the Derelict as a decorative piece.”

“Please don’t.”

“Ah, don’t worry. Eris is keeping an eye on him.”

Rae let out a sigh of relief as Marcia continued, “Speaking of Eramis. I know I said stop holding back, but I did NOT expect…whatever that was!”

“So that really did happen…” Rae muttered.

“Yep. Saw the whole thing from behind that forcefield Eramis put up to separate us. It wasn’t a corrupted form like Darklight, but it wasn’t exactly Starlight either. I’ve no idea what it was. Been tryin’ to figure it out ever since we brought you back here.”

Rae looked around the tent, “Where are the others?”

“Outside.” Cayde replied, “They’re having a celebratory-”

*SPLAT!*

A pile of snow hit the tent door followed by Tif’s distant voice yelling, “Missed me!”

“Snowball fight.” Cayde finished with a chuckle. “I better go let them know I’m alright. They seem SO distraught.” Rae rolled her eyes jokingly as she, Cayde and Marcia left the tent.

“She’s up!”

“Welcome back, kid!”

“Fire!”

Rae was pelted in the face by multiple snowballs. The snow slowly slid off her face to reveal a very unimpressed expression as Cayde burst out laughing, leaning on Rae for support, as Marcia chuckled at the sight. A few feet away from the door was Blaze, Adam, Tif and Drifter. “What did you think of our welcome back gift?” Blaze grinned. Rae smirked and went to make a snowball when she noticed Elsie motioning for her to come over to her. “When I get back, it’s on!” Rae warned as she jogged over to Elsie. “How are you feeling?” Elsie asked. “Better.” Rae replied with a shrug, “Still have a bit of a headache, but I’m not dead.”

“Always a plus.” Elsie gave a small chuckle before turning serious once more, “But you see now. Darkness resides within, beckoning you, as it has many others. Across lifetimes…timelines. Beyond ours lies another world. One pervaded by Darkness. Where Guardians abandoned their Light at the call of temptation. In that world…you and your friends were no exceptions.”

Rae seemed to be taken aback by that as she briefly glanced back at the others who had gone back to their snowball fight with Eris remaining at the fire and Drifter occasionally joining in by tossing a snowball here and there. “But here, in this world,” Elsie continued, “Light and Dark swell within you, side by side, giving you strength. Remember that when you step onto the Ziggurat once more. You’re there for one reason and one reason alone: to fully harness the Darkness within you.”

Rae glance down at her hand, remembering the surge of energy that rushed through her when she faced Eramis; how her fear gave way to anger; how she attacked Eramis without holding back or giving anything a second thought, or even a first thought for that matter. “I’ll admit,” Rae began, “When I first tried Stasis, I was…terrified. It was alien and didn’t feel right. But when I took on that form while fighting Eramis – when I stopped thinking and just let loose – it felt…right.” Rae turned back to Elsie, “I’m done being scared. I’m done holding back. From now on,” Rae smirked, “I do things my way.”

Elsie nodded before handing her Eramis’s splinter, “It’s time now. They’re expecting you.”

 Rae walked up the steps of the Ziggurat, alone this time. Oddly enough, the whispers didn’t seem to faze her anymore as she approached the final shard. She held her splinter up to the shard. However, instead of the expected surge of energy, Rae found herself teleported to a very familiar room. “This is the inside of the Pyramid…” she muttered before walking up the steps at the end of the room. “Hey, Rae?” Ghost began, “I just want you to know…I’m here with you. Through Light or Dark…we’re partners. Always.”

“Thanks, Little Light.” Rae smiled, “I’ll never leave your side either. I promise.”

Rae approached the top where she saw a statue, similar to the one she saw towering the artifact she found on the moon. Taking a deep breath she walked up to the statue and stared up at it, “If you can hear me, I want you that no matter what happens, I’ll never give in to you. I fight for the Light, for my friends, for me. And that will never change.” Rae held the splinter up high as she felt stasis energy begin to surge through her and in a flash, she was back on the Ziggurat with an icy staff in her hands and energy coursing through her.

 Blaze went to throw another snowball but jumped backwards as an orb of stasis went shooting past her. She spun around to see Rae twirling her staff before dismissing it.

“Aw yeah! Rae’s joined the stasis gang!” Marcia cheered.

“Yay, Rae!” Tif added.

“How do you feel?” Adam asked.

“Pretty good.” Rae smiled.

“Nicely done, snitch.” Drifter gave Rae a thumbs up, when she noticed he had a black eye. “Uhh…why do you have.”

“Threw a snowball. Hit Moondust by accident. You can figure out the rest.”

“While it wasn’t my intent to hit Germaine’s eye,” Eris began, “I can’t say it wasn’t well deserved.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait.” Cayde interrupted before turning to Drifter, “Your name…is Germaine?!”

Cayde burst into laughter as Drifter just glared at him before turning to Marcia, “Now you know why I don’t like him.”

“You’re the one who thought Germaine was a good cover name.” Marcia shrugged.

Blaze walked up to Rae while Cayde tried to calm down from his laughing fit.

“Well this is gonna be an interesting report to give Zavala, huh?” Blaze sighed.

“Yup. I don’t know how he’ll react to Guardians using Darkness.” Rae replied, “But I’ve faith that we’ll use this to our advantage rather than be corrupted by it. Plus I still need to figure out what Darknebula actually is.”

“Darknebula?”

“It’s what I’ve named it. For now anyway.”

“I like it! Sounds cool!”

“Well,” Adam began as he walked up to the group, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go back to the nice warm Tower.”

“Yeah. I need to get back to base and help Misraaks deal with the newcomers.” Tif added.

“Well, let’s not stay here any longer freezing our butts off.” Rae smiled.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Epilogue Coming Soon…

[littleredroseonthevalley]

Wildest Dreams

Summary: A New Year’s. A wedding reception. Two parties, set apart in time, spell a begining and an end in Emily’s life.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: Hello, everyone! I wanted to do a Nathan piece for weeks now, especially after The Big Reveal on TJ. My first attempt was ‘An Opera on Separation’, but Zig ended up worming his way there and it turned out to be less about Nathan and more about Emily getting over Nathan and ending up on the arms of Ziggy-Pop himself.

Then, last Thursday, I heard ‘Wildest Dreams’ by Taylor Swift while trying to come up for a new number for my dance crew and it really inspired me!

Oh, and a fair warning, this is NOT a part of ‘An Opera on Separation’ universe. This is a completely separate one-shot. Perhaps I ought to take a page from my fellow authors and change the MC’s name, but I tend to prefer the default name for reasons.

And I used the ‘An Opera on Separation’ taglist. Sue me.

Emily was leaning against a wall and wishing she was dead.

Who the Hell decides to break with someone just outside a Starbucks? On the day before Christmas Eve, no less?

Emily’s ex does.

She sighed once more. Her holidays were miserable over it, as her family expected her to bring her significant other to the feast. Showing up alone was right depressive.

Returning to work on the 26th hadn’t been any easier, as somehow the entire office building where she worked as a secretary ended up figuring out about her shameful break-up before lunch hour. That certainly thwarted her hopes of having at least half a day of peace.

Consequentially, all her colleagues insisted terribly for her to attend the building’s New Year’s Eve party, as a way to ‘get back on the horse’, so to speak.

She pushed back as hard as she could, but she ended up caving. She supposed she could hang around until ten or so, have some cheap liquor and leave to spend midnight the way God intended.

Drunk and alone on her bed.

What the young woman did not count on was the fact that the hours between eight and ten would be Chinese torture in form of a company gathering.

Everyone around her seemed to be drunk on the sad excuse for champagne the company had provided, and the friskier were coupling up in bizarre pairings, like Crystal, the sour receptionist, and Dan, the Porno King from accounting.

Those scenes of moral decadence only served to further Emily’s depression. Despite attending a prestigious university and having academic honours, she was stuck at the same dead-end job as the woman who seemingly collected chocolate wrappings on her desk drawer.

Corporate America was a soul-sucking monster and that girl was out of soul to give.

Feeling claustrophobic, the woman unlatched herself from her spot on the wall and walked over to the balcony for some air. The place was thankfully devoid of people, except for a blond guy who was smoking and leaning against the railing.

She considered leaving, but the idea of returning to the crowd was enough for giving her a small anxiety attack. No, if she hung out on the opposite end as him, perhaps he wouldn’t notice, or would pick up the cue and leave her be.

And it worked for a while, she could sit down on the dirty floor and stretch her aching legs. The man finishes his cigarette and picks another one from his suit jacket and tries to light it, to no avail.

He sighed loudly and seemed to curse under his breath. He, then, turned to her and said, amicably: “Hi-ya.”

She looks over to him and takes a moment to realize he’s talking to her. Then, she responds with a lazy: “Hey.”

“Do you have some fire?” He asks, rather supplicant. “My lighter seems to have given up on me.”

“No, sorry. Non-smoker.” The woman answers, still wishing for the man to go away.

“Such is my luck. Perhaps it’s a sign that I smoked way too much today. It’s a nasty habit, but I never had it in me to stop.” He snorts, anxious. “What brings you to the smoking area?”

She looked at him, confused. “This is the smoking area?”

“Yep.” He popped the p and pointed to the ash dispensers around the balcony. “I’ll go ahead and say you wanted a break from all that inside.”

The young woman sported a small side smile over the comment. “Pretty much. And to stay out of Crystal line of sight. After she’s done with Dan, she’ll have nothing else to lose.”

“Dan still works here?” The blond asks, more to himself, surprised. “I was sure he’d be fired after all the data leaking.”

“You and me both, pal.” She says, while sipping her beverage. “ The virus got into the system through one of his porn movies, after all.”

“I think whom you really should look out for is Marcia from HR. I saw her pulling a busboy into a closet some half an hour ago. That woman is insatiable!” The guy bemoans, well-humored.

Emily raises a well-kept eyebrow, throws a smirk and says: “You speak out of experience?”

He laughs. “Jesus, no. It wasn’t over her lack of interest, though.”

“How conceited!” She accused, smiling. “I’m Emily, by the way.”

He also smiled, charmingly. “Nathan. Nice to meet you.”

“Nathan? Like the boss?” She asks, curious.

“You know the CEO?” He responds, surprised.

She nods. “Well, yeah, I’m one of his secretaries.”

“Ah, cool.” He shakes his fair head. “Life-long dream of being a secretary?”

The statement was ridiculous enough to drag a loud laughter out of the girl. “No way. I’m a writer. Well, I was a writer.”

“What happened?” He asks, taking a seat next to her.

“It happened no one wanted to pick up my manuscript. Then I tried to self-publish, but that fell through pretty quickly.” She sighed. “After that, I decided to cut my losses and had a friend wire me with this gig. So here I am.”

He grimaces. “I’m sorry for that. If it makes you feel better, I always wanted to be an anthropologist, but my dad thought going on field studies resembled too much a vagabond lifestyle and argued that corporate law would be much more my speed. And so, here I am, and guess what?”

“What?”

“Corporate law sucks.” They laugh.

“It does make me feel a little better.” She pokes.

“Well, I’m glad my misery is amusing to you.” The man smirks with his shiny pearly teeth.

“What brings you to this disgrace of a party?” Emily asks, blunt.

“It was a pretty good excuse not to attend my parents’ disgrace of a party.” He responds with a shrug. “You?”

“Some of the girls at the desk thought it’d be depressing for me to spend New Year’s alone, so they nagged me until I agreed to come.” She throws back an offending lock of hair.

He hummed. “That may be the reasoning of most of the people in here tonight.”

“Damn year ending on a Wednesday.” She huffs. “I suppose it’s fitting. A mediocre year ending on a mediocre day.”

“I’d drink to that.” The blond echoes.

“Cheers!” She raises her lonely red cup.

Emily was going all out for that party later tonight. She had only just left the hairdresser’s and was ready for putting on the dress, which hung at her closet door for over a week in anticipation for tonight.

The piece had been handpicked. She’d much prefer a Paco Rabane, but the evening required some demure, and so she went with a blue-and-gold, slit on the leg, Gucci ball gown and a matching clutch. The also blue high heels disguised her short stature and highlighted her lean legs.

Finally, the jewellery. She was covered in diamonds, from his earrings, neck and hands, everything was adorned with pieces which sported the precious gem. Even her hair was held up with an encrusted pin.

She put on the luxurious outfit and sat down to do her makeup. Supposedly, she could have had it done at the beauty parlour, but she rarely liked the results when she let others do it for her. Not to mention, she was rather disgusted with the shared brushes and products.

No, she was a dextrous woman. She could do it herself.

First, the base on her cheeks, to disguise small acne scars, some sun damage and the insistent swelling from the past few days. Then, a smidge of blush, for a healthy colouring. Emily was way too pale for her own good.

Next, the eyes. Eyeliner and mascara would make her eyes pop against the white, and now unmarred, skin. Then the mandatory red lipstick, carefully applied to her full lips.

It was a night event, she could humour herself and splurge a little with the products and not look like a clown.

When she was finally done, she picked up the clutch and checked her money, phone and documents. Then, fetching the car keys, left for the party.

“Have these naval charts approved by Tuesday, and have my car picked up from the shop first thing in the morning.” The greying-haired man ordered with little as much as a look to the young woman standing by his desk.

“Yes, Mr. Sterling, sir.” She nods and writes down his commands at her planner.

“You may go now, Emily.” He dismisses, and the girl excuses herself.

Closing the door with care, she returns to her seat at the desk she shares with two other secretaries, Kate and Jess.

“I don’t know how you can deal with that dick and keep that stupid smile on your face.” Jess mentions with a sneer.

Emily shrugged. “I’m happy these days. It won’t be Mr. Sterling who’ll pop my bubble.”

Kate scoffs, her sixth sense for a good piece of gossip tingling hard. “Happy, right. Just the other day you’re lamenting on the corners because of what’s-their-name. When we’ll know the name of this ‘happiness’ of yours?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The other responds but couldn’t contain the smirk.

“Yeah, sure!” Kate shouts and points accusingly. “You totally smiled. Come on! Please, please, please!”

“No! Just drop it.” Emily said, good-naturedly.

“Kate, Emily’s entitled to her secrets.” Jess said, not as much to defend her as to get the other girl to sit quiet. Emily never could understand why, but Jess was never much of her fan.

“Fine.” She huffed in response. “Meanie.”

The three women finished their shift and parted ways at the company’s doorstep. Emily walked over to the subway station with a skip on her step. She did not lie when she said she was very happy to be brought down these days.

Life was much too good when you’re in love.

Reaching her modest one-bedroom apartment, she quickly changed her clothes and put herself to work. Her boyfriend would be stopping by later tonight, and would stay for dinner, so Emily had to whip out a first-class meal and clean up the place by nine.

Dating her boss’ son was something that the redhaired did not planned for, it just happened, and it certainly took some adapting. Their relationship had to be kept under wraps, lest Jess and the other employees think she’d receive preferential treatment.

But it was worth it. When Nathan said he was actually Nathan Sterling, III, it shocked her. She felt rather betrayed, as he kept that slight detail for over a month of going out, and the ‘no-telling rule’ was rather uncomfortable.

But Nathan was also a caring, loving boyfriend. He makes her feel like a princess every day he’s with her. He called or texted three times a day, just to check on her and talk about their day. He showered with gifts, ranging from the romantic, like flowers, to the lavish, like diamonds, to the thoughtful, like a first-edition of her favourite childhood book, ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’.

In the end, forfeiting bragging rights to Kate was a too small of a sacrifice. She loved Nathan, she wanted to be with him. Waiting until such time she could quit her miserable job for ‘coming out’ to her friends was absolutely worth it.

At exactly nine o’clock, a knock on the door jump-start Emily from the oven to skip over to the living room. She opens the door with a wide smile and says: “Hello!”

Nathan doesn’t say a thing, he prefers to let down the bags he’d been holding, picking up the woman by her waist and twirl her over the cramped living room, eliciting giggles from the redhead.

Reaching the middle of the room, he smiled broadly, kissed her nose and said: “Good evening, Emily. How you’re doing?”

“I’m fine. Better now.” She unwrapped herself from his arms. “Just sit down, I’ll finish dinner in a moment.”

“Great, I’m famished!” He says, boisterous. “By the way, I brought some wine.”

“I’ll grab the bottle opener.” She shouts from the kitchen.

Soon enough, Emily emerges with a carbonara, two glasses and a bottle opener and sets them on the table.

“And I brought another thing, as well.” The blond says, a wicked smile on his face.

The redhaired couldn’t help but smile over the man’s childish antics. “What is it?”

“Well, remember you said Tuesday you wanted to go out dancing?” He asks, but before she could answer, he continues. “I felt really guilty I couldn’t take you, BUT, I could bring an iPod and a sound box. So get ready, Em, ‘cause tonight we’re dancing on the hottest and most exclusive club in the city!”

Emily beamed at the surprise. She walks over to him and kisses him deeply, until them both are out of air. After they break apart, she says: “I love you.”

“I love you more.” He smirks and bends down to kiss her again.

She was up in the sky, and no-one would bring her down.

The party venue was a good two-hour drive from her place, across state lines. But it did not matter, Emily enjoyed driving on the highway, with the high speed cleansing her frustrations and the hustle-bustle of people driving across the land engaging her mind.

She enjoyed looking at the vehicles passing by, looking at the faraway license plates and conjecturing stories about its passengers, where they were going and from where they came.

The ferry that took her to Martha’s Vineyard was no less of an enjoyable experience, feeling the salty wind hitting her face and observing the great reddish-blue expanse of the ocean beyond the sound.

Once at the wealthy suburb, she drove to a small, wooded area near the country club. She decided to walk to the venue, her old, rusty and noisy Kia would certainly be too much of a difference from the imported, luxury cars that filled the valet service.

No, she was aiming a low profile that night, and that sky-blue old machine would not do.

The fifteen-minute walk from the gates to the main salon was harder than she expected, given the heels were less for movement and more for show. Her feet would remember this night tomorrow morning.

Emily reaches the ostentatious French doors at the club entrance and gives her invitation to the usher. The young man greets her with a smile and walks her over to her seat.

A server comes and offers her champagne, which she gracefully accepts a flute and made herself comfortable.

The party was about to start.

“Emily, please, say something.” Nathan pleaded, looking hurt at her while she just shrunk further within the couch. The woman was silently looking at the void for over fifteen minutes now.

“I think you should leave.” Emily complied, letting out the phrase in a hoarse voice.

He really wanted to fight, to scream, to stay and have her react. Even if it meant she would throw something pointy and hard at him.

But, in the end, the whole thing was breaking his heart as well and he was never one with high threshold for pain, so he complied to her wish and walked over to the door. Before stepping out, he turns back one last time and says: “Call me if you want to talk. Anytime.”

Emily did not respond. After Nathan shuts the door on his way out, she did not make a sound. She enjoyed the silence of the house, she noted the tiny steps of bugs in the kitchen, the dripping of raindrops on the windows and the leakage on the sink.

The first thought that hit her with some reasoning came who knows how later in the day, and it was a simple phrase.

Nathan’s engaged.

An arranged match, he said. Kassidy Marquez’s family controlled port infrastructure around the Gulf of Mexico, and it was a big move for a shipping company, as large as it was, still confined within the Northeastern Seaboard.

He came by that afternoon to tell her of his father’s decision, to have him wed the young girl. He confessed to know Kassidy from college, and to have casually dated her in the past, but assured Emily of his ‘undying love and devotion’.

Nathan also expressed his intentions to maintain a relationship between them, even on the event of his marriage.

She didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t think about it now. She was out of breath, like she was drowning in dry land.

She just wanted to draw the drapes and pretend she was dead.

“Oh my, Emily, you’re such a delight!” The older woman says, laughing of something the girl had said.

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Franklin.” The redhead smiled politely.

“What’s your relation to the couple, again?” The other wonders, remembering she had not been told.

“Oh, I’m a working colleague of the groom’s.” She responded. “Speaking of which, it seems they’re ready to have their first dance. Would you care to accompany me?”

“I’m much too old!” The woman complains, good-naturedly. “Go along! I’ll see them from over here.”

“Please, Mrs. Franklin, you’re much too youthful to call yourself old. But if you excuse me, I love this part of weddings.” Emily stood up and walks over to the dancefloor, blending in with the crowd watching the newlywed couple.

The bride was a looker, with her long black hair and tanned skin, a shine on her eyes like a blushing virgin, that freshness of going on to a new life. Her luxurious and pristine Vera Wang dress highlighted the posture of a young aristocrat and flew through the room like a curtain dancing on the wind.

But if we’re judging by appearance, the groom was the pretty one. He looked every bit like a fairy tale prince, with his tall and lean frame, white skin as if he had never met the sun in his life, and the blond hair combed backwards. The suit was midnight black, perfectly tailored overseas, and with sapphire cufflinks to give a finishing shine of upper crust.

They twirled through the room the whole fifteen minutes of Blue Danube in flawless grace, and without breaking a sweat. Soon after, they started the rounds through the guest tables, to receive the congratulations from the various guests.

A good hour later, when Nathan and Kassidy reach table 13, which contained the looser relatives on the Sterling family, they are greeted by the recently-widowed Great-Aunt Susett Franklin.

“Oh, my darlings!” She kisses each of their kisses, much to the displeasure of Kassidy. “Congratulations on the nuptials! It is such a wonderful adventure, and I hope yours to be filled with bliss and bounty.”

“Thank you, Aunt Susett.” Nathan says, politely. “How do you like the party? I hope you’re not feeling too alone out here.”

She laughs, dismissively. “Not at all! Emily has been keeping me in good company the entire party. Lovely girl, that one.”

Kassidy made a face. “Emily? I don’t remember an Emily at the guest list.”

“I don’t think you’ve met her, honey. She says she’s Nathan’s colleague, from work.” The older woman comments, in passing. “A shame you’ve come by just when she left to freshen up. She seemed so eager to congratulate you!”

A cold shiver shot through Nathan’s back. It couldn’t be, could it? After months of silence, she wouldn’t come to great lengths to attend the reception. However, he certainly did not know any other Emily, lest one who worked for him.

His ocean-blue eyes run through the venue, looking for that unmistakeable red hair.

And, then, he sees her.

She looked as beautiful as ever, with the dress and the accessories he had gifted her over the months of their relationship. But her eyes were different, they seemed dead and filled with tears.

She set her sights on him and seemed to pierce his soul with it and all he wanted to do was scream.

But it did not last long, as on the next second she turns around and leaves the party.

The blond muster some stupid excuse and dashes after her, not caring what anyone would think or say. He underestimates a seasoned woman on heels with a very good reason to run, as he couldn’t find her on the hallway by the salon, nor at the entrance hall to the country club.

Nathan would only be able to catch up under a willow, a short walk from the main gateway of the club. “Emily! Emily, wait!” He says, and reaches for her arm, pulling her close and forcing her to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“I came for the free booze. What do you think I was doing?!” The redhead shouts to his face. “I was torturing myself like the idiot I am.”

“You’re not an idiot.” He responded, severe. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d come to you.”

The woman scoffed, incredulous. “And drop your wedding?”

“I dropped it now, didn’t I?” He shoots her a side smirk, trying to dispel her hostility, to no avail.

“Don’t do that!” She shouts. “Don’t try to charm your way out of this. It won’t work.”

He sighed. “Okay. But I can honestly say I really missed you.”

“It. Won’t. Work.” She repeated.

The blue-eyed man shrugged. “It’s no trick, but believe what you want. Why you’re here?”

“I thought I needed to see it for myself.” She declared, her voice wavering. “Shock therapy, I guess. To force myself to let go.”

“You know you don’t have to if you don’t want it.” He looked pleadingly at the woman, who stood tense and straight like the willow next to them. “I love you. I want you. We can make this work if we really want to.”

“Look, Nathan, I get why you did what you did. I get that you left me for Kassidy, and that what we had wouldn’t have a future. But don’t ask me to be a part of your Boston Brahmin fantasy.” She shot him a look. “If you can’t be in it for the whole thing, at least let me find someone who is.”

The reality of things start to catch up to the young aristocrat. “So you’re just gonna leave? You’re abandoning me?”

“You left first, Nathan.” She coldly accuses. “You left me all those months ago when you said you’d be marrying Kassidy. And I’m not going down with the ship, I’m sorry.”

The blond start taking steps backwards, trying to focus his eyesight, blurred by the pain he felt on every muscle of his body.

Seizing the opportunity to leave, Emily looks back at him and says: “I really loved you, you know?”

“I know.” He manages to respond. “I love you, too.”

“I truly hope Kassidy makes you happy.” She said with a melancholic smile on her face.

“She won’t.” He responded, but the redhead had already left.

Emily ran the rest of the distance to her car, where she hastily took off every piece of jewellery and tried to clean off the make-up, ruined by the tears.

When she calmed herself minimally, she started the engine and drove away.

Taglist: @alicars; @boneandfur; @choicesfannatalie; @diamond-dreamland; @emerald-bijou; @kennaxval; @liamxs-world; @lizeboredom; @mfackenthal; @mrsdrakewalkerblog; @radiantrosemary; @topsyturvy-dream

[fairytaleendingss]

Rough All Over: Chapter 3

A Johnny Cade x OC fanfic

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: The Curtis gang lives on the rough side of town. Their lives consist of abusive parents, violent gangs and trouble around every corner but even through all the hardships, they can always call on each other. However, when a new girl shows up to town with a mysterious past, things start to take a turn. Will the boys manage to stick together, even when everything’s trying to tear them apart?

Warnings: Mediocre writing

(a/n: So this chapter is kind of just a buildup, I promise the story is about to get more interesting. Bare with me, lol. )

---

The bell rang, signalling the end of class and Ponyboy made his way out into the hallway. He spotted Johnny standing beside the lockers. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his denim jacket and he had his head down, staring at the floor as people walked past.

“Hey Johnnycakes!” Pony exclaimed, walking towards him.

“Oh, hey Ponyboy” he glanced up through his big brown eyes and gave Pony a small smile.

“Do you want to go out the back?” 

Johnny nodded and the boys made their way towards the back of the school. Most greasers tried to avoid the cafeteria since that's where the socs usually hung out, so after a few years of searching, Johnny and Ponyboy had found a spot out back where they wouldn’t be bothered by the other kids. 

Lighting a cigarette, the boys stood with their backs leaning against the wall. It wasn’t too cold that day but the wind had a slight chill to it, causing Johnny to dig his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. 

Pony glanced at his friend and could tell there was something on his mind. Johnny was staring thoughtfully out at the scenery around him, eyebrows slightly furrowed and a cancer stick hanging from his lip. Pony was just about to ask him what was wrong when Johnny turned to look at him, eyeing the younger boy carefully with a curious look on his face.

“Who’s that new girl who was hanging around with the socs this morning?”

Pony raised an eyebrow at Johnny but answered the question. 

“Her name is Dawn, I think. She’s the one that Soda was talking about on the weekend. They met at the gas station?” 

Johnny nodded and turned his head away from Pony, taking a puff of his weed. 

“She’s kinda cute” 

Pony’s head whipped around so fast that he thought he’d get whiplash. Johnny, had never shown interest in girls before! Pony was starting to think Johnny was too damaged to care about romance.

Johnny looked down, a deep blush dusting over his cheeks. 

“I...uh, i just mean that she...um...looks nice”

Pony smirked. “Yeah, yeah. I get what you meant”. 

---

The week went on as usual. The novelty of the new girl eventually wore off and people stopped speculating about why she was there, however Ponboy couldn’t help but notice Johnny’s prolonged glances when Dawn walked by them in the halls. 

It was a Thursday when Pony and Dawn finally had an interaction.

Ponyboy had an history paper due in a week and he decided to go to the school library to work on it. He knew that the gang would be at his place that evening and he knew he wouldn’t get anything done with the boys making a ruckus. 

The library was mostly quiet after school had ended and Ponyboy made his way to a table, pulling out his books. He was halfway through his paper when he heard a loud sigh come from the desk in the corner. 

Pony looked up in confusion. There wasn’t usually anyone else in the library after school had finished. He glanced around the room, noticing the girl with her head down on her desk, brown hair fanned out over her textbooks.

Pony approached her cautiously. He didn’t want to disturb her but she looked like she could use some help. Over her shoulder he recognised her work as the same extension maths work he’d been given a few weeks ago.

Pony reached out, gently tapping her shoulder. 

“Umm, excuse me…”

Dawn’s head shot up as she looked around at the boy standing next to her. 

“Oh sorry” Pony muttered “I didn’t mean to disturb you”.

“Don’t worry about it.” She sighed. “Can I help you?”

Pony glanced at the girl. She looked different close up. He could see that her dark hair had a slight wave to it and her eyes, although a piercing emerald colour, looked weary and tired. 

Pony rocked back and forth on his heels, not quite sure what to say. 

“I..um. I saw you struggling and I wondered if you needed some help.”

Her lips curled up into a small smile. “Thanks for the offer, I really appreciate it but I don’t think we’re in the same class”.

“That’s okay” Pony took a seat beside her. “I was given this work for extension”. 

She nodded her head. “Okay then. I could really use some help with this”. 

“My name is Ponyboy by the way” He muttered, sticking out a hand for her to shake. 

She shook his hand gently. “I’m Dawn, nice to meet you”.

“I know,” he added. “I think you’ve met my brother Sodapop” 

Ponyboy regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. That was a weird thing to say and he looked down at the ground, cursing himself in embarrassment. However, Dawn just smiled.

“I met Sodapop the other night. He’s a sweetheart”. 

---

Ponyboy spent the rest of the afternoon helping Dawn with her work. She struggled at first but with some encouragement, she understood the equations. Eventually it got late and the two decided it was time to leave.

As they stood out the front of the school, they both took a moment to glance up at the beautiful, orange sunset that danced across the horizon. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it” Dawn turned towards Ponyboy, her eyes shining with admiration.

Pony smiled at her “Yeah. Yeah it is”. 

She sighed, taking in a beautiful scene in front of her. “I never got to see a sunset like this before”. 

Pony just nodded in agreement. He’d always loved the sunsets in Tulsa. 

“Thanks for your help Ponyboy, I really appreciate it,” She said sincerely. 

He glanced at the girl, shooting her a smile. “It’s really no problem”. 

She looked down at the ground and he wondered what was running through her mind.

“No really. It’s very kind of you to help me with my work. No one else has before”.

Pony’s heart ached for the girl and he wasn’t quite sure why. He could tell there was something going on at home, something that lingered just below the surface.

He sighed. He liked Dawn, she was sweet and didn’t treat him like dirt because of his social class like most of the socs did. He wanted to do what he could to help her. 

She turned back towards him. “You know Ponyboy, if i’m being honest, I don’t quite feel like I belong here.” 

Pony was surprised to hear her say this and furrowed his brow in confusion. “But what about Cherry and Marcia? You seemed to get long with them.”

Dawn sighed, “Yeah, they’re nice and all but they’ve grown up on the west side. They’ve always had money. I don’t really know how to fit in with that.” 

They two stood in silence for a moment before Dawn glanced down at the watch on her wrist. “Oh shoot. I’d better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ponyboy” she turned, leaving a light kiss on his cheek before walking away down the road.

[two-are-the-trees]

10 Best Twilight Zone Episodes

So I really love The Twilight Zone. It was one of the very first things I ever ordered from Netflix as a child (back when you had to have Netflix DVD’s mailed to you) and my whole family would gather around to watch each episode we recieved. Over the years, I have seen my fair share of the show and I always end up introducing my friends to my favorite episodes, so I thought I’d do the same for y’all in case you haven’t had the chance to check them out yet. Obviously there are many many good episodes and it was really hard to narrow the list, so this is all just personal opinion. Let me know what your favorites are if you have different ones! 

10. Little Girl Lost: This one is a family favorite and it may seem a little odd because the acting is a little hokey, but it’s so enjoyable to watch. It has one of the more unique premises of all the show’s episodes: Two parents wake up in the night to the sound of their daughter crying, only to find that she is nowhere to be found. They can hear her clearly crying out for them, but they cannot see her and she cannot see them. They do what anyone would rationally do in this situation: call their neighbor, who happens to be a theoretical physicist (I know, it’s pretty ridiculous) and he manages to find a sort of passageway to another dimension in the daughter’s bedroom wall. The way that the episode brings such insane scientific concepts into such an innocent setting as a little girl’s bedroom is pretty cool and the way they actually depict the other dimension is really trippy. It’s a neat little look at the theoretical concepts that got people interested at the time. 

9. To Serve Man: I think the ending of this classic is pretty well known in popular culture, but for those who don’t know, it’s one of the best twist endings of all time. I won’t spoil anything here, I’ll just say that it’s a story about what would happen if aliens really did land on earth. What’s cool about this episode is that they really do handle the idea pretty seriously, with all the world’s countries coming together, attempting to keep the event as peaceful as possible, while still hiring military experts and code-breakers to keep an eye on the strange invaders. Through the whole episode, you aren’t really sure when to let your guard down and who you can really trust, making the ending all the more unexpected. 

8. The After Hours: I don’t know if this one is really that popular, but it’s one of my personal favorites, mainly because they take such a mundane activity and turn it into an intensely mysterious ordeal. A woman named Marcia is just trying to buy her mother a present at a department store when she meets a strange saleswoman on the 9th floor, only to find out later that there is no 9th floor. Frustrations are high in this episode as all of the characters are confident in themselves, leading to Marcia fiercely arguing that her experience really happened to her, while everyone else fiercely argues that it didn’t. No one knows what is going on and it gets more and more ominous until we get a genuinely creepy climax in the closed department store at night, when Marcia is all alone and thinking she hears voices. This one also has a great twist ending that I really didn’t see coming when I first saw it, and it has now become one of my favorites for how unique it is. 

7. Time Enough At Last: This was the first episode of The Twilight Zone I ever saw and I think it really apeals to us introverted book lovers. A mild-mannered man just wants to spend all his time reading, but no one in his life seems to allow him the pleasure. His wife, his job, his friends, all of these aspects of his life are just obstructions in his effort to have some peace and reading time. They really make you feel for him in this episode, making all the other people seem like insentitive jerks. When an unprecidented tragedy strikes, it turns out that our main character might have just the chance he’s always wanted to read all he can. The ending of this episode is one of the best examples of irony I can think of. It’s pretty famous too but I won’t ruin it here. Let’s just say that everyone I’ve ever shown this episode to has the exact same reaction at the end: Throwing their hands up in frustration and yelling “Aaaaaaw come on!” 

6. The Hitch-Hiker: Talk about creepy, this episode will have you on the edge of your seat the entire time. A woman is driving alone on a cross country road trip when she begins seeing the exact same hitch-hiker in different places. It seems that he is following her, showing up exactly where she goes and trying to flag down her car. The sight of him begins to fill her with dread and she becomes more paranoid and desperate to get away from him. You feel like you are unraveling with the main character as you watch, with her internal monologue growing more and more panicked. The dark, lonely scenery as she drives through undeveloped countryside doesn’t help either. It’s chilling and heart-pounding the whole way through. 

5. Nightmare at 20,000 Feet: This one is an absolute classic with many selling points, the first of which being that William Shatner is in it. But besides that, this episode has such a specific set up, and yet I think everyone can imagine the fear of this situation, especially those of us who don’t like flying. A man is finally returning home after being released from a mental hospital where he was treated for a nervous breakdown involving an airplane. Now he must face his fear and endure the flight home in order to prove to himself that he can. During the stormy flight, however, he starts to see some suspicious sights on the wing of the airplane, but anytime he tries to warn anyone, the mysterious monster that he claims to see vanishes. It’s the perfect setup of characters and situation and creates a sense of intense frustration and paranoia as even the viewers aren’t exactly sure if the main character is really seeing this monster or if he is experiencing another breakdown. It keeps you guessing to the very end and makes you consider maybe traveling by train next time. 

4. The Shelter: I love when The Twilight Zone gets involved with uncomfortable moral dilemmas and this one is a doosy. A neighborhood party is interrupted by news that a missile is heading straight for the area and that everyone should take cover. The main character and his family hide in their bomb shelter that the rest of the neighborhood previously mocked them for building. Soon, all the neighbors, who were just earlier enjoying their time together, come knocking on the shelter door demanding to be let in. The main character refuses, telling them that he only has enough supplies for his family. The neighbors outside become more desperate and more vicious, fighting with each other and showing the truly hateful sides of their personalities. What is wonderfully horrible about this episode is that we get to see all of the characters devolve from loving, kind people, to absolute monsters with terrible prejudices hidden just below the surface. All it took was a threat to their own survival for all relationships and well-meaning to disintegrate. It’s a great example of people showing their true character in trying times. 

3. Living Doll: Everyone loves a good creepy doll story and this one is the original. A girl brings home a new toy doll, called Talky Tina, only for her stepdad to discover that it may not be as innocent as the package advertises. The doll begins to say disturbing things to him, but whenever he tries to show his wife or stepdaughter, the doll goes back to its usual catch phrases. The stepdad begins going crazy trying to get rid of the doll, frightening his wife and daughter in the process. Besides just the delightful creepiness of the doll herself, which is a lot of fun, what makes this episode great is that it kind of twists around who the villain of the story really is, leaving you on an ending that is dark, sure, but also carries a surprisingly good message. It’s an episode you won’t forget, just like Talky Tina’s famous lines. 

2. The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street: Another one of those morally grey episodes that I love so much; this episode takes it a step further than The Shelter by upping the tension and upping the violence. A quiet street is disrupted when a mysterious object flies overhead and everyone begins to believe that aliens are the cause when electronics start behaving strangely. People start to suspect that the aliens must have sent down a scout ahead of time and that one of their very own neighbors is really an alien in disguise. It gets really dispicable as people start to reveal just how suspicious of their neighbors they have been all along, admitting to spying on each other, holding prejudices, and even going after children. The situation is tense and no one knows what to believe as the conflict escalates to riot levels. No one is safe and no one is innocent, leading to all the darkest parts of society revealing themselves. The ending, one of my favorites in all of Twilight Zone, truly sums it all up and really makes you think about what we’re made of. 

1. Will The Real Martian Please Stand Up: If the last episode had one of my favorite Twilight Zone endings, then this episode has my absolute favorite ending. Two officers are investigating reports of a UFO that crashed in a lake, only to discover a trail of footprints leading from the lake to a nearby diner. Inside, they find a group of travelers and their bus driver waiting out the storm outside. The officers block the entrance to the diner and decide to have a good old-fashioned martian hunt, not letting any of the travelers leave until they figure out which one of them is the alien in disguise. The characters are all unique and memorable, each of them suspicious in their own way. It feels very much like a classic detective story or a game of Clue, but with that extra creepy sci-fi edge. Everyone comes up with their own theories and suspicions, including the viewers watching, and the experience of watching the episode is fun, chilling, tense, and extremely mysterious. You really want to know how it’s all going to turn out. The ending is absolutely perfect and one that I think really throws a lot of people for a loop. It’s a classic mystery with a not-so-classic twist that encapsulates everything great about The Twilight Zone.