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newmusickarl · 3 years ago

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Album & EP Recommendations

As there is a HUGE amount to cover this week, I’m trying something a bit different with some slightly snappier reviews and a genre inclusion so you can head straight for the recommendation that matches your musical preference. There’s at least one album from all the key genres this week too, so hopefully a little something for everyone. Without any further ado then, here’s what’s good:

Album of the Week: Comfort To Me by Amyl & The Sniffers (Punk/Rock)

My personal preference from this week is the rip-roaring sophomore album from Australia’s own Amyl & The Sniffers. Although I was already vaguely familiar with the band’s previous work, I was still not prepared for the full throttle, smashmouth, rifftastic contents of this utterly brilliant record. As a result, this one hit me like a lightning bolt, thanks to the furious energy of frontwoman Amy Taylor and the mind-melting guitar work throughout.

From the off, absolutely nothing is held back here, as Taylor’s punk vocals and razor-sharp lyrics hit you in the ear like haymakers. What’s most surprising though is how the shredding guitar riffs that are littered across this record manage to sound so astonishing and impressive, yet at the same time as if the band are not even trying at all. It’s completely hypnotising yet everything is made to sound so easy and natural thanks to the sheer rawness of the music.

This one also already plays out like a greatest hits record too, with Guided By Angels, Security, Hertz, Maggot and Capital five of the best pure punk rock tracks to emerge in the last five years. Concise, in-your-face and no moment spared, this is a rock record the kind of which rarely gets made anymore. Without a doubt, one of the best of the year for its genre.

Listen here

Hey What by Low (Experimental/Alternative)

They may be 13 albums and nearly 30 years into their career at this point, but American experimental rockers Low show no sign of slowing down at this point. Still relatively fresh off the back of their hugely acclaimed album Double Negative, which was widely seen as the Album of the Year in 2018, Low are back yet again with another sonic trip into the weird and wonderful.

Now I must admit although a lot of people adored Double Negative, I personally was always a bit indifferent towards it. I appreciated the sonic textures and the heartfelt moments, but it never completely resonated with me like I know it did for others – one that fell into the “easy to admire, hard to love” category. That is not the case with this new album however, as with Hey What they seem to have further refined what they started on that record, creating an album that’s just as impressive but possibly more accessible than its predecessor.

Opener White Horses picks up pretty much where they left off under a tidal wave of soaring vocals and stunning yet unsettling distortion. From there you’ll once again be checking your audio equipment hasn’t broken, as Low playfully mess around with musical conventions and gargantuan glitchy soundscapes to great effect. This also allows the slightly sparser tracks like All Night, Don’t Walk Away and particularly Days Like These, to emerge out of this masterfully produced cacophony as some of the most haunting and stirring moments.

They may not have won me over with the last one, but they certainly have now – an outstanding album that leaves a lasting impression.

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Star-crossed by Kacey Musgraves (Country/Pop)

Golden Hour was another hit with the critics in 2018 that, much like the Low album, didn’t quite capture me. But again, just like Low, I prefer this latest work from country-turned-pop singer, Kacey Musgraves. With Star-crossed, Musgraves aims to craft her own Shakespearean tragedy, with all the theatre and the drama that goes with it.

The title track opener perfectly sets the stage as the gentle plucking of the acoustic guitar is suddenly surrounded by soaring, multi-layered instrumentation. It is all hugely cinematic and from there on in, Musgraves weaves her tale of heartbreak with plenty of catchy hooks, polished production and solid, heartfelt songwriting. However, the best moments are arguably when Musgraves keeps it raw, such as on camera roll where she takes something as simple as finding old photos of a lost lover on a phone and relaying back to the listener the pain that moment can bring.

In a year that’s already seen some brilliant pop albums, Musgraves stakes her claim with a well-crafted record built on a tried and tested concept. It’s a successful outing with more than enough great tunes and interesting instrumentation (see the jazz flute on there is a light in particular) to keep you interested from beginning to end.

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Enjoy The View by We Were Promised Jetpacks (Alternative)

Scottish indie rockers We Were Promised Jetpacks also released their stunning fifth album this week. This one pulls at the heartstrings from the get-go as the gentle waltz of reflective opener that’s Not Me Anymore immediately locks you into the record and refuses to loosen its grip until the very last note. There’s plenty of spine-tingling moments throughout too, such as the melancholic riffs of All That Glittered, the haunting sparseness of What I Know Now and the uplifting melody of I Wish You Well.

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Back In Love City by The Vaccines (Indie)

A band well adept at writing killer hooks at this point, indie rockers The Vaccines have also returned with their fun fifth album this week. Not too much to say about this one other than if you are a fan of their previous efforts the chances are you’ll adore this one too, as their music continues to deliver big riffs and anthemic choruses aplenty, but with more refinement and polished craftmanship at this veteran stage in their career. Highlights include the ultra-catchy title-track and the galloping, Western-stylings of Paranormal Romance, which comes across a bit like their own version of Muse’s Knights of Cydonia.

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Mother by Cleo Sol (R&B/Soul)

Fresh off her high-profile collaborations with Little Simz and Sault, singer-songwriter Cleo Sol has once again stepped out on her own, this time exploring themes of motherhood. Gracious, compassionate and quite moving, it’s a stirring soul record where Cleo’s soft yet powerful vocals take centre stage against a backdrop of minimal instrumentation. If you need something peaceful and easy listening, you won’t go wrong with this one as Don’t Let Me Fall, Promises and We Need You offer up the most beautiful moments here.

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The Melodic Blue by Baby Keem (Hip Hop/Rap)

There is a lot of pressure that comes with being Kendrick Lamar’s cousin, however you wouldn’t know it listening to Baby Keem’s assured debut album. Although it is admittedly quite hit and miss (first two tracks trademark usa and pink panties ironically leave a lot to be desired), there are enough high points here to make this record worth your time. The collaborations with Kendrick (range brothers and family ties) both strike a chord while the Don Toliver (cocoa) and Travis Scott (durag activity) featuring tracks also dazzle. That said Keem is arguably at his best when he’s riding solo, such as on the heartfelt issues and the Kanye West Love Lockdown sampling, scars.

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I’ve Been Trying To Tell You by Saint Etienne (Ambient/Electronic)

Crafted over lockdown, this tenth studio album from the London trio is a gloriously understated dive into modern British history, 1997-2001 to be precise. By using evocative imagery and samples from the turn of the millennium, where R&B and bubblegum pop dominated the musical landscape, they have forged quite a dreamy ambient record. Wonderfully creative and a fairly chill listen, it’s a fascinating reflection on a time when the world seemed a lot less complex than it does today.

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The Blacklist by Metallica (Metal/Various)

And lastly on the albums front this week, I have been promoting the various Metallica covers released as part of the The Blacklist project for several weeks now, but now finally the full album has been revealed along with all the covers yet to be shared as individual releases.

At 53 songs long, the tribute to Metallica’s classic Black Album is certainly not one to run through in a single sitting, however there is plenty of fun covers here to dip into and explore. In case you haven’t seen, amongst those offering their own versions of these classic tracks are: Miley Cyrus & Elton John, Phoebe Bridgers, Dermot Kennedy, Weezer, Biffy Clyro, St. Vincent, Rina Sawayama, Sam Fender, Flatbush Zombies, Portugal The Man, IDLES, Cherry Glazerr and many, many more.

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Tracks of the Week

Beautiful James by Placebo

I’m also over the moon to say Placebo finally released their new single this week, their first since 2016’s Jesus’ Son. Beautiful James shows that Brian Molko and Stefan Olsdal haven’t missed a step in their five-year hiatus, with this one centred on a typically instant chorus and some neon-soaked synths. A big welcome back to one of my all-time favourites!

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I Don’t Live Here Anymore by The War On Drugs

Although the first single from their forthcoming new album may have been more understated than normal, on this title track Adam Granduciel & Co. return to the soaring stadium-sized rock for which they are known. Undoubtedly one of their finest tracks to date, you’ll want to stick this one on repeat just so you can keep getting lost in those wonderfully atmospheric guitar riffs.

Listen here

Arcadia by Lana Del Rey

And finally, Lana continues the build towards her second album of 2021, Blue Banisters, with this latest single seeing her on typically vintage form as the song sounds as if it was pulled from another time. With distant horns and a gentle piano, it’s as stunning as any of her best recent work.

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keepingupwiththekamados · 4 years ago

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The wind pillar's day off 🌟

Part 1 > Part 2

Giyuu was not lying when he said Sanemi should be bed-bound. He fell victim to a paralytic demon art on his last mission and it's only thanks to his breathing techniques and Shinobu's early intervention that he's managed to avoid permanent damage.

That doesn't mean he emerged unscathed. He's little more than a cripple now. Fine, he can walk a fair distance; but he can't run. He doesn't have the strength to train, but he can summon a quick burst of energy every once in a while.

Not that it matters.

Naturally, Shinobu instructed him to stay in his estate till he recovers. Naturally, Sanemi was pissed.

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" he remembers asking.

"I don't know. Read a book?" came her offhanded suggestion.

The Updated Encyclopedia of Native Plants glares back at him.

He shuts the cover of the tome with a heavy thunk, and absently impresses his palm upon the embossed title. Genya's been trying to persuade him to read it for a month now - so he can stop accidentally killing their plants, he suspects - and now was as good a time as any to get it done.

It wasn't so bad once he got started, he has to admit. There are whole chapters dedicated to each and every plant native to Japan; its origins, its variants, its medicinal properties, and of course, how to grow them. He can see why Genya is so passionate about this stuff.

Still, Sanemi has his limits. He's exhausted. Two hours had flown by since he started - two hours, and he's barely a quarter way through the tome.

Two hours...

... without interruption?

He fiddles with the thread of the spine as he mulls it over. Oddly enough, he hasn't seen neither hide nor hair of the demons since Giyuu dropped them off.

Suppose he shouldn't be surprised. They seem to be wary of Sanemi - and rightfully so. He stabbed them a couple times after all. Or maybe it was thrice. Or maybe… well, the details are irrelevent. He should be happy that they've finally culminated the self preservation skills to stay out of his way.

There is just one problem.

He's bored.

He didn't expect them to actually listen. He thought they would set out for revenge, because they are evil, spiteful little creatures. He would prefer it if they do violate his rules, actually; to force his hand, to put them in their place. It would be a nice break from this week-long monotony.

Perhaps he should investigate. Not because he's concerned or anything. In fact, he's the opposite of concerned: he's suspicious. What if they're plotting something? They could be waiting for the moment he falls asleep - the moment he slips his guard even just a little - and then they'll strike.

Hah. We'll see about that.

The flame of the oil lamp is extinguished with a quiet hiss. He pads out the library, his feet as light as a draft. It's more out of habit than anything. In reality, there's no point in being subtle - the red demon can probably smell him from a mile away, like the demented sniffer dog he is.

The black demon, however...

A shadow whips around the corner.

He follows.

The demon is quick, but he is quicker. It's only Nezuko. Sanemi cannot tell where she came from, nor where she's headed, but he'll know soon enough. He watches as she swishes down the length of the engawa - leaving a trail of dotted red in her wake.

Sanemi's instincts flare at the sight. It's blood, it must be! The demon must have commited some act of terror while he was holed up in the library. Damnit, he should've kept a closer eye on them! Now he has no choice but to decapi--

Ah, nevermind, it's just adzuki beans.

Sanemi pinches one off the floor with a frown. She'd stolen it from his courtyard. A little weird, sure, but not exactly a sin.

Further on, he reaches the end of his path: the kitchen. The first thing he notices from the other side of the door is the sweet smell of his crushed adzuki beans. They're cooking? What the hell? They don't get hungry, there's no reason for them to mess about in his kitchen. Unless they're trying to piss him off on purpose. He jerks the door open, and opens his mouth, ready to shout-

Except they don't even acknowledge his entry. Their backs are turned to him; huddled together, and bent over something that's hidden from view, and Nezuko giggles, and Tanjirou whispers shush. A ring of stray adzuki beans surround them, and to the side, a pot is sat upon the irori, clumps of rice spilling over the lip.

Sanemi is at a loss.

"Oi... what do you think you're doing?"

Tanjirou's face pops up. He's practically glowing with excitement as he jumps to his feet, and he trots over, Nezuko in tow, the sleeve of his haori masking whatever it is he's holding. It is a nerve-wracking moment. He places himself before the wind pillar. Takes a deep breath. Looks up, eyes twinkling innocence. And he raises the plate above his head.

"Dada!"

A single ohagi.

It is a rudimentary thing. Something tells him that this is one of many attempts that came from the past two hours. But he doesn't understand. Why him?

"Are you making fun of me? Is that it?"

"Mm?"

Tanjirou rocks on his heels, insistent. No, he really is trying to offer up this sad creation. Sanemi eyes it warily. As pathetic as it looks, it does smell rather nice. And he may have forgotten to eat today. And it is his favourite food...

So he snatches the plate. His glare floats from demon to demon as he tries to parse their intentions. Even still his cynicism refuses to let up. This could be a prank, or a poison attempt, or...

... maybe they're just trying to be nice?

In which case.

"Come with me," Sanemi grunts, and he leaves the kitchen.

#obligatory ohagi ft a big fuck you to canon #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi #nezuko #tanjirou #au #twpdo #pipwrites

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bigsnzstanacct · 5 years ago

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Hayfever Story (sneezing + nose blowing)

I... don’t know what you all will think of this one. This is part one of two, though I’m not entirely certain how part two should go. This one is mostly setup but there’s plenty of sneezing at the top. Honestly it is almost all sneeze talk or description. The sneezer is described as male, but the narrator’s gender is left ambiguous: imagine whatever excites you the most.

This is unedited, obviously, but I may go through and take another pass at it at some point.

—-

I could hear him down the block.

“AAAHHHHCCHHH-HHOOOOOOO!!” The bellow was dimmed somewhat by distance and the walls between us, but I still heard it, clear as day. He’d be winding up for another one now, frozen in place, captive to his big, protruding proboscis. The handkerchief clutched in two hands, spread wide as his head tipped back and back and back until his shoulder got into it, his wide nostrils flaring absurdly as he gasped... and gasped... and gasped... until...

“EEEEEEAAAYYYYYATTCCHHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Even louder this time! He would have delivered it right into the handkerchief, so that he could transition, seamlessly, fluidly, almost... professionally into the window rattling roar of his great lawnmower honk of a nose blow, sonorous as a trombone, surely so because of the unusual architecture of his cavernous nostrils, which provided plenty of room for the great crashing blow to echo and resound and build in noise. The first great two-nostril honk taken care of, he’d press one nostril shut and blow his trumpet blast out the other, then switch sides, in a sort of aftershock to the first great blow. I could barely even hear them through the walls. But I knew after that would come the last big blow. First, an enormous lung-swelling long smooth inward gasp of air, his shoulders rising, rib cage expanding to let in more and more and more air. Then, a silent moment of preparation, practically like a prayer, his eyes scrunching shut, face flying into the waiting hankie and then...

The real foghorn, a nasal blast that dwarfed his sneeze in volume. His “big blows” as we called them existed less to expel moisture or whatever else might be lurking in his nasal passages, and more to cleanse the terrible itch with the sheer sound of it, as though by making his whole sinuses vibrate with the sonorous force of the blow, he could chase that twinging tickle into every nook and cranny of his nose, and in doing so scratch the itch into submission.

He’d be walking again now. Would there be another sneeze before he arrived at the door, would he in fact reach the door even as the ragweed and grass pollen and all the terrible floral irritations of spring reignited that desperate desire in him, left the poor exhausted man with no choice but to unleash another:

“HEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHSSHHH-OOOOOOOOO!!!” This was an angry sneeze. The sneeze of a man exhausted by his nose and a nose exhausted by the itch. It was the sort of sneeze he released only when he at last forgot about the noise and disruption his nose could cause—did cause, all throughout hayfever season—and could think only of finally relieving the terrible itch. I swung the door open, and was greeted by the sight, no longer in my imagination but in the flesh, of his reddened, dripping nose, his tired, sagging eyes—oh it was so obvious he was in the grips of an absolutely miserable allergy attack, and I could only reach out to him, press him into a tight embrace, even as, over my shoulder, he spread it out—oh, not a handkerchief at all, but one of those big red bandanas he used when his poor nose wore him out, when even his hankies seemed too small and too fragile to stand up to the ferocity of his allergic response. I barely noticed before he crushed his nose into his hand and, uncontrollably, right next to my ear blasted out a honk that I swear nearly made my go deaf.

Of course, if that were going to happen, it would have long since happened by now.

“Oh hodey...” he said, sniffing, as he straightened up. “Hodey I’b so sorry bud by dose...”

“Shhh, shhh,” I cooed at him, guiding him into the living room and down onto the sofa. “It’s fine, darling, I understand. Your hayfever...”

“Id’s terrible!” He announced, as though every centimeter of his face was not making the announcement for him, from the downturn of his lips to his constantly working, practically buzzing nose. “Wud sec godda blow...”

He said this with banal literalness—he was going to blow his nose. And yet I couldn’t help but think that “gonna blow” seemed accurate for any and everything pertaining to his nose, which resembled nothing so much as his personal Vesuvius, a volcano always on the edge of an eruption.

He held forth with a blow that put the others to shame, or perhaps that was just me being able to appreciate it properly now, neither muffled by walls nor so all-consumingly close that its relative volume was masked. De-stuffed a bit by the blow, he continued: “I had to sneeze so badly all day, darling, you wouldn’t believe it. I hate hayfever!” He said it with conviction, so much so that I couldn’t help but hate it too, even if his hayfever, this particular specimen, also thrilled me. “I don’t know how I got any work done, always having to duck into the bathroom to... t-tuhhh... huuuhhh.... HUUUUUHHHH... HUUUUUAAAAASSSHHHOOOOOOOOO!!!”

“To do that?”

“Mm.” He replied, congested again. Our flow of conversation ebbed for the moment, making way for his great trumpeting blows, always the same pattern: a great two nostril honk, a series of cleansing blows of each nostril individually, alternately, and then a final great tickle-chasing honk. Although this time even that pattern didn’t seem to be enough. “Cad you ged me adother h-hadker... hadker... hehhHH... AAAASSSSHHHOOOOOOOOOO!!”

He didn’t have to tell me twice, though as I heard the thumping on our ceiling from our neighbor above, already fed up with his nasal exuberance, I couldn’t help but hope, for the sake of peace in our little block of apartments if nothing else, that the next cleansing blow managed to clear out some of that infernal pollen and ease his allergies some.

Although, as he heard him snuffling and sniffing, surely hunting for any dry spot left on the great bandana, I didn’t hold out much hope.

—

He’d really had a terrible hayfever day, though it did calm at least somewhat after he’d been home for a while, with our humidifier and air filters all around. He explained that he’d had to sneeze all day at work, constantly ducking into the toilets to let one loose, fighting not to blast one of his rather disruptive and distinctive sneezes in the open office. He’d sworn he wouldn’t be known primarily by his nose, not at this workplace, unlike many of his others. Even then, he hadn’t felt like he could blow his nose, not fully, not properly, even in the toilets. On the bus home, he’d fought not to explode but his hayfever was just unbearable and before he knew it he was belting out sneeze after sneeze, so loud in the enclosed space he was afraid he’d startle the driver or something. The other passengers glaring daggers at him didn’t help. So he’d walked a good deal of the way home, which only succeeded in allowing his big nose to suck up even more allergens, to drive him even crazier with the urge to blow them all out.

By that evening, his nose had largely calmed down, its outbursts coming once or twice an hour rather than every few minutes. I gave him the tea that always helped, wiped his face with a warm cloth, did my best to soothe the allergic beast inside him, the little demon of nasal irritation that took up residence in his nose—a spacious abode—that tormented him and took over him body til his whole body used all its force to exorcize the demon in a blasting sneeze or trumpeting blow. There was something nice about it, the feeling that it was we two in a battle against his hayfever. Sure, it was him on the front lines, cajoling and managing and denying and satiating his itchy nose and its allergic demands. But I was there too, supporting and assisting and fetching bandanas and grabbing things out of his hands when a sudden blinding urge to sneeze robbed him of every other thought. I liked helping him in that way. It was plain to see those great galumphing sneezes took it out of the poor man. And though he always seemed pleased, satisfied after a good strong session of blowing, that too must have required energy. He’d tried to teach me on more than one occasion, when I caught bad colds, how to blow my nose as thoroughly and authoritatively as he did. I’d gotten quite a bit better—no longer the sniffer and snuffler I was when we met—but still, I could never quite manage the sheer ferocity of his nose blowing, let alone the power, let alone the volume. He was in another category for that.

Of course, that presented its problems. And there was another area in which I could help, in which it was I instead of him on the front lines of battle: the neighbors.

Now we’d been lucky enough to escape complaints in many if not most of the places we lived, though surely his nasal exertions were audible through the walls. And to his credit, most of the year, with the exception of lazy afternoons where gave his nose free reign and let his great bellowing sneezes rip as they pleased, he kept his nose to.... well not quite a polite acceptable volume, but at least a dull roar during quieter hours. But this was our second hayfever season in this apartment. And when hayfever season strikes that nose of his, all bets are off. I thought we’d come to blows with at least two of our neighbors by the end of the season, but although we narrowly avoided that, we did have to speak to the apartment management about noise complaints. They couldn’t, of course, kick us out of our apartment over hayfever. But to keep the peace, we agreed to try our very best to keep the noise down late at night, even during hayfever season. His nose had free reign until ten pm. It would be cruel to expect anything else. But his hayfever was too severe to let him sleep sometimes. I’d been awakened, more times than I could count, with a great bellowing sneeze, a desperate, whispered apology and then a trumpeting nose blow. Half-asleep, it never occurred to him to tamp down the violence... all he could think of was chasing away the terrible itch.

So, in those moments where he awoke at night, itchy and sneezy and desperate, it fell to me. Then I took the front lines in the battle against his allergies, or at least the battle to avoid coming to blows with Mr and Mrs Cadwallader upstairs.

I suspected, from the moment I heard him coming down the way to our apartment, that tonight would end up being just such a night. So I’d taken the bandana he normally hid under his pillow and hid it under mine. If he were about to sneeze, even in half-asleep stupor, he’d reach for that, and so it was that I was awakened at 2am, not by his nose, but by his mouth:

“—Quickly!! I n-need to snehhh... sneeze!”

#snz fic #sneeze story #male allergies

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aliypop · 5 years ago

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From Now On

Wordcount: 2,080

A/N: This went completely different than I had it mind, but this is a mega fix it fic with a rollercoaster of emotions, also Ben and Hux need love and yeah!

Summary: When fixing the Falcon Yela solo finds a familiar force onboard leading her towards the happier things in life.

Warning: Angst

"What do you think you're doing.." Yela asked hearing the thoughts of her enemy her head was under the control pannel fixing it, "This is a hunk of junk," she mumbled to herself, the figure that had been sitting there watching her leaned under to help,

"Get away from me," she raised her hand to push him away from her, Kylo was slightly tossed across the Falcon, while her saber flew into her hand ready to fight him again if she had to, his mask covered his face as he backed away from her, the two were still on Starkiller base, and from the looks of it he was already wounded,

"You have to trust me!"

"This is a set up.." she thought to herself, but there was something different about him this time, he didn't feel like Kylo but more like,

PEW

"We've got company.." Yela said seeing the Knights of Ren outside,

"Did you think dad gave you his only blaster.," he said shooting at them with his back turned towards her, taking his mask off as he looked at her, he looked like Ben, but she was still skeptical of him, his eyes seemed tired all of him did really but from the blood on his face made her worried even more,

"When you were 6, you wanted to be a Jedi like uncle Luke.." he said hoping she'd look at him, "Everyone knows that Kylo," she rolled her eye's, her lightsaber in her hand, a glow of green across her face she then saw a blue hue coming from beside her,

" Where did you get it!" both Yela and Kyo said looking at each other with a glare, the knights getting closer, Yela was already closed in by a few and so was Kylo, blocking a strike from one of the knights with her lightsaber she felt the rush of what she had been missing, the thing that made her family the way they were a good fight, twirling her saber around she plunged it into another knight using the force to knock down the others, looking over she saw that Kylo was in danger one wrong move and he might have been dead,

PEW!

Yela laid there breathing hard, her eyes fluttered, eventually closing as her chest began falling slowly and rising,

"You're just an annoying Moof milker!"

"Am not!"

" If you two wake up your uncle Rylan I'll never hear the end of it.." Luke said looking at his niece and nephew, Yela had been secretly training with her brother Ben on Tatooine when she was supposed to be on Naboo with her grandmother Celfra learning the principles of politics,

"Now get back to meditating you two," he smiled walking off, "And remember it's all about the balance of things, or is nature.. is that what Yoda said?" he began mumbling to himself,

"You're supposed to keep your eyes closed idiot," Ben shouted,

"What's going on out there?"

Racing towards the infirmary was Alana, Leia, and Han, laying on one of the many beds were Yela and next to her was "Ben," Han looked at him, "is it really you," he asked as all 3 of his parents began to walk towards him with caution, Ben was nervous already standing there awkwardly as he used to when he was a little boy,

"Yeah, it's me.."

Alana ran to him as she hugged him tightly, "I knew you'd come they didn't, but I did," she joked, her somewhat youthful features vibrant on her face, still gentle as he remembered her to be, Leia, on the other hand, couldn't believe that her beautiful baby boy had returned to her and neither could Han,

"Mom... Ma.." he blushed hugging them back,

"Where am I.," Yela asked waking up seeing her parents hugging Kylo, " He's danger-"

"You annoying Moof Milker.." Ben laughed roughing up her hair,

"It's true.." she hugged him tightly, " I got my brother back!" she then punched him hard, "What was that for?!" he asked her, "Force chocking me! you nerf herder who farlked every-"

"Language... " Han glared at her,

PEW! ... PEW! ... PEW!

"Ben! " Yela shouted Chewie by her side as AL-1 beeped by the two were in a smuggle bust except it wasn't exactly a material they were smuggling "Hux... we're going to find you.." Yela thought hearing Ben snickering,

"Get out of my thoughts .. droid sniffer.," raising a fist at him,

"You like Armitage, does Ma know about this.. " he began picking her brain the two now running from bounty hunters, "No, and mom doesn't know about it either or dad.." she huffed shooting at them again,

"RAARRA!"

"We know!"

PEW!

Hux sat in the cell alone with his thoughts like he usually did when no one was around, there wasn't Kylo though he was probably dead by now, and he didn't want to think it but so was Yela probably, he was already worried about her since the days they met and even when he would report to her office he could never forget how sweaty his palms would be, how he'd stutter around her, how weak he became when he heard her say his name,

"Aren't you a little short for a Mandalorian. " Hux rolled his eyes,

Yela took her helmet off brown curls everywhere, "What is with us solos and feisty people," she asked, "Us?" Hux questioned as to the other Mandalorian who removed his helmet, under it was Ben, who glared at the general,

"Hux.."

"Ren.."

"Can we just go!" Yela shouted guiding them out the exit, looking at Hux she could tell he was a bit confused by everything, but right now he was going with it,

"You know Yela, he's smaller than I remember.." Ben smirked as Hux glared at him, "I know what you're thinking I wouldn't try it.." Chewie who was once again by their side ran towards the Falcon as they made it just in time,

"So this is the hunk of junk you wanted to shoot out the sky.."

"Chewie set the cords back home, Ben, Hux don't kill each other.," she smirked, "Ans as for me.." she put the ship into hyperspeed, "It's time to sit back and relax.."

"How come you get to be the pilot.." "How come you get to be such an -"

"ARRRHH" Chewie shouted as they both got quiet, Hux was in aw at the two, charmed by Yela but impressed by Ben it really did seem that he cared about something other than Rey or ruling an entire galaxy but instead his-

"Hey, " Ben pouted, "Yela made me talk to you so... " he rolled his eyes, "spill it.." giving the old general a death glare, the Solo glare.

"What are you talking about.." He began to blush his thoughts stuck on his paragon of hope, beauty, and stubbornness,

"You've liked my sister since the day you met her.. and as her brother, I don't like you... as your old .. leader I don't condone it."

"Doesn't matter, " Hux smirked,

"You want to ask her out don't you... "

"No!"

Ben smirked at him know the answer,

"Yes,"

"WHRAAH," Chewie said as Yela sighed, just like her father Chewie was her best friend, she told him everything from secrets to things that not even he wanted to know about, but he gave good advice,

"I know ma, mom, dad, and probably uncle Luke are gonna be upset, but it's not the first time.." she sighed,

"ARRRH"

"They have no room to judge when ma and dad met they went straight to the Falcon, and when he met mom who was a princess, and not the general who keeps me up at night they later had Ben, but I .." getting off track from her topic,

"Wraggh.." Chewie said nudging her.

"I may or may not like him, we've kissed a few times, but!" she paused as AL-1 even looked at her,

landing back on base Ben ran towards his parents as he left Yela and Hux alone, "Ma, Mom.. do you need any help," he asked hiding behind the two,

"What did you do.." Leia said looking up at her son,

"Are you bleeding!" Alana looked at the grazed skin on his arm, "Mandalorians... the skin peeled very delicately .. Amban rifle, " she looked up at him, You're good ma, really good, " he began getting nervous hearing Yela get closer,

"And you see dad I-"

"Yela, " Both Leia and Alana said, Han, glared at him,

"Do you see this.. or am I getting old.." Han began laughing like a maniac, "A prince I'd be okay with, a smuggler sure, but a first-order general!"

"Han darling breath... let us do the yelling .." Alana kissed his cheek,

"What were you thinking or are you thinking," Leia pulled her by the ears like a disappointed mother she was, Hux stood there slightly scared of the General she seemed very upset as it was,

"I was thinking about hope the thing you guys fought for," she pulled Hux to her side,

"And yes I know that he was apart of the first order, but as an Amidala, I know there's good him I just know.. just like there was good in grandpa Anakin," she sighed,

"You sound as if you love him," Alana said, her thoughts were loud and clear,

"You loved dad the first time you met him, and when Celfra said no what did you do.." Yela asked waiting on her mother to answer, "What did you do mom,"

"Yela you're 19 and he's 24, it's not going to work!" Alana said walking away from her,

"You were 19 and dad was 22.. and It worked out fine, you loved him and then.."

"Don't you finish that sentence ," Ben who was hiding behind Chewie now got a bit scared for what Yela was about to say, it had to be bad if Leia didn't want her to finish it, "Let her speak," Han said wanting to know what his daughter had to say,

"You stopped loving each other, Mom and you argued all the time while ma, you tried to keep things peaceful.. tied between two lovers..." she pointed at Alana and then at Leia, "You tried to keep me in Naboo, and Ben with uncle Luke when I just wanted .." Hux held her as he kissed her head, he felt bad that she had it rough as a child, but he knew wasn't alone on that feeling,

"What was it that you wanted sweetheart," Han asked as he pulled both Leia and Alana close to him kissing both of their foreheads, the two both smiling up at him giggling.

"That.." Yela smiled as she looked at Hux, "Armitage .. I -" Hux kissed her as he wrapped his arm around her waist, the other in her dark curls, pulling away Yela had a grin bigger than her fathers on her face,

"Reminds me of how we used to be, " Leia said looking between Han and Alana, she missed having them both around but being that she was on senate and Han didn't want to be tied down to one place as well as Yela taking her mother's rightful place as a Dutchess things were heavy between the 3.

"We're not too old to start again..." Alana said, "of course Han and I never stopped, " she smirked kissing him on the lips,

"That is disgusting .." Ben stuck his tongue out then pretended to gag,

"Mhmm.." Yela cleared her throat, " Mom, ma, Dad, Ben.." she asked getting their attention, "I love Hux very much and I'm gonna date him and fark it maybe I'll marry him!" she looked at Hux his eyes wide, "Marriage?" he turned darker than the old first-order patches he used to have on his uniforms,

"You heard me, Armitage," she laughed, "the future is unlimited and Hux if you'll have me."

"General Organa.. you're highness Solo... " Hux said still scared of the two,

"Welcome to our crazy family.." Alana said

"I still don't like him.." Han mumbled under his breath,

#star wars #fanfiction #new stuff #leia organa #Alana Mabecorge #Yela mabecorge solo #han solo #han and chewie #ben solo #oc x canon #general hux #hux deserved better

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triggeringthehealing · 6 years ago

Text

Lightning Strikes

Derek/Stiles || AO3

Summary: It’s only supposed to be a camping trip to help Derek’s and Scott’s packs bond. Stiles is prepared for a whole list of possible crises. Except one -- he didn’t check the weather forecast. Rating: PG Word Count: ~5k Tags/Warnings: fluff, mentions of Hale house fire, pack bonding, camping, Spark Stiles, Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, everyone is alive

Written for the @multifandomwritingchallenge for the theme ‘nature’ - prompts: mountain, moon, lightning, sky.

Stiles isn't sure whose idea it was to go camping. None of them ever went, not even when they were kids. Between Melissa's unpredictable schedule and John's long hours, neither Stiles nor Scott ever had a chance to experience things like this, because there just wasn't enough time. They didn't do organized camps either, not with their parents' budgets being as tight as they were.

Allison apparently has some experience with setting up tents—Stiles doesn't bother asking, since bringing up hunter training tends to be a mood killer all around—and Malia knows her way around wildlife and plants that are safe to eat, even if only for coyotes. They're lucky that Jordan is tagging along because his past army training means that they now have a fire going and their tents are actually likely to survive the night. The only other people who seem likely to survive in the wilderness are Boyd and Derek since Erica's seizures meant she could never participate in outdoorsy activities and Isaac's only been in one camp when he was about six, not that he remembers any survival techniques from back then. Lydia and Jackson's camps had none of the actual camping, obviously, and they're both not all that happy about this trip. Danny's surgery kept him away from the outdoors just long enough that he was too old for camps by the time he was healthy again.

"Look, the lantern is better in the tent," Stiles hears Jordan explain. "We've got enough light out here with the fire, we all have flashlights for any necessary getting around. The lantern is bright enough to attract… all sorts of things."

"Fair," Lydia answers, though she's not all that enthusiastic about it. "I still don't understand why we had to climb a mountain for this. We could've easily bonded as packs somewhere more comfortable."

"Except this is the one way to avoid running into trouble," Allison says, earning herself several eye-rolls. "And these guys can shift and chase squirrels."

There's a growl from somewhere behind Stiles. He doesn't bother checking who it's coming from. The possibilities are as many as there are werewolves around. Instead, he ducks into the tent that he's left his backpack in and comes back out with a sweater. The werewolves might not need to keep warm, but he's getting chilly in rather unpleasant ways. They do have the fire set up, but he's yet to figure out how to keep more than one side of his body warm,

"Here's hoping there's nothing trying to claim the forest tonight," he mutters, keeping his voice low.

Not low enough to avoid being overheard by the pack members with enhanced hearing, all of whom throw him a glare that he translates as "if you just jinxed us, I'll kill you" or something similarly cheerful.

"It's not supposed to be raining, is it?" Erica asks with her eyes turned to the darkening sky above their heads and past the crowns of the trees surrounded their little camp.

Stiles sighs. It would be just their luck to get a random unexpected rainstorm tonight, right when they're communing with nature and bonding. Hard to do either if you're stuck inside a tent and can't talk to anyone other than the poor souls trapped in there with you.

"Not here, no," Derek says, following her gaze. "The valley on the other side is meant to get hit by the rain though."

"Don't tell me your super sniffer is telling you that," Stiles quips.

"No, see, there's this little thing called a weather forecast…"

"Oh my god, can you two stop with the flirting or foreplay or whatever your bickering is," Jackson interjects, huffing.

"You're just jealous because Ethan isn't around and Danny said no sex without him here," Scott tells Jackson, a shit-eating grin on his face. "You'll have to grin and bear it."

There are some chuckles but then everyone turns quiet again. It's eerie, the silence of the space, despite so many people around. Like breaking it would summon something untoward, which Stiles really doesn't want to contemplate. After all, this is a peaceful bonding trip, one that's meant to bring together Derek's and Scott's pack so they can live in relative harmony. Stiles wonders how long into the night they can get to before someone inevitably attacks someone else, regardless of who is right.

They have been on mostly good terms over the past few years, but it's always a precarious balance to keep. At first it was only him in the space between the packs, trying to maintain that balance as an Emissary in training—that alone was a surprise to him, but apparently having a magical spark, or being one, he's not entirely sure how it works yet, is enough to be an Emissary for a werewolf pack—which only worked because Scott was prone to listen if he thought he'd lose Stiles entirely.

Derek had no such qualms or considerations, but he did appreciate the in with the Sheriff's Department that came with Stiles's presence. And he'd started to work with John on cases that had traces of the supernatural. All in all, the set up they had going in Beacon Hills worked.

Even with Isaac frequently spending time with Scott and with Kira drawn to Malia of all people. And Stiles being on the edge of both Derek's and Scott's packs, belonging to both and neither at the same time. The truth was that he didn't want to choose, not now, not ever, if he had any say in it. He just hoped—not that he had an expectation of anything—that if it ever came to revealing the reason why he was so torn between the two Alphas, Scott would understand.

This camping trip might just make everything come to a head, Stiles thinks as he watches everyone move around and put finishing touches on their circle of tents in the clearing.

"Hey Stiles, we need to get the sleeping bags sorted, you remember which one goes where right?" Scott calls out and Stiles grins when he sees him standing in front of one of the tents with a pile of sleeping bags by his feet, looking confused.

"Well, no, but I took notes," Stiles says and walks over, tugging his phone out of the pocket.

There's no coverage here, they're too far out in the woods, but his notes app loads quickly and with it the list of pack members and their respective sleeping bag descriptions. Stiles gives Scott instructions and the pile gets smaller fast and then vanishes altogether, leaving him standing in the circle and looking at the campfire in the middle.

"Right, mountain ash," he mutters as everyone starts settling onto the big stones around the fire.

They'd agreed that he'd begin a mountain ash circle for protection but not close it unless there's an emergency. He's the only one who can, still, despite Danny and Allison also being human. Danny suggested that they keep the circle closed and have one of them open it to let the werewolves and coyote and kitsune out if needed, but Stiles figured this was better. He knew that some of them didn't like the feeling of being contained in such a small space—big as the clearing was.

So he walks the edges of the clearing with mountain ash in hand and stops only a foot from where he started. It's enough that he can get to it and close it quickly, but the wolves can get out easily before he does. He already knows that they won't disturb the line if they step over it, it takes a spark to move the ash these days as his abilities grow stronger.

They don't have any plans for this first evening besides making some s’mores and hanging out by the fire. The full moon is still two nights away and they're in no rush since they're staying for the whole week. The hike to the clearing did take a toll on all of them though, so one by one everyone starts disappearing into the tents soon after. Stiles checks the mountain ash line one more time before he crawls into his tent—he's alone in it and for the purposes of this trip, he's Switzerland, the neutral zone. No man's land. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but when there's nothing but silence to keep him company, he's wondering if it was a good one. Then tiredness gets the best of him and he falls asleep, mind still full of worry.

He feels a little more settled the next morning, after a surprisingly good night of sleep—the air feels fresh and clean, like the rainstorm that did indeed hit the valley on the other side of the mountain spread the fresh scent all the way to them. But the rest of the group isn't as calm, at least not the shifters. As little as Kira and Malia are affected by the moon itself, they do feel the restlessness from the wolves and channel it in ways they don't really like to talk about.

It makes for an interesting morning with a few scuffles and a lot more glaring as they all wander down to the stream that's close to the camp they set up. The shifters calm a little once they're in the woods, but Stiles is the one who gets restless then, feeling the energy of the trees. It's not as strong as the Nemeton, but his spark still picks it up and makes him full of energy, like he should be running—not that there's anything to run to or from right now. He only calms down again when Derek sits down next to him and they both stare at the running water, not saying a word until everyone else has headed back to the camp.

"It's the Preserve," Derek says. "Mom always said that it had a mind of its own."

Stiles hums in acknowledgment.

"I thought it was the Nemeton, for a while," Derek continues quietly. "But then we fixed that and it didn't stop. It's like the forest itself feels us and makes itself known."

"Got any old Hale wisdom about that one?" Stiles asks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Derek shake his head.

"I tried looking into it. Asked Peter," he adds with a sharpness to his voice like he's taken a bite out of a lemon. "He knows nothing either. It's probably because this land was ours for so long."

"Think your wolfy DNA seeped into the shrubbery?"

Derek turns to him with a glare that he doesn't seem to really mean if the twitch in the corner of his mouth is anything to go by. Stiles smirks at him, unable to resist the temptation of a joke.

"I mean, you guys rub yourselves on everything when you're all..." he makes pretend claws with his hands. "It wouldn't surprise me if you'd left traces of yourselves all over this place."

"For all I know, you might be right," Derek tells him and shrugs. "Or it's just because the forest is so big and there are too many things that happened here."

"I can feel it," Stiles says. "I didn't before, but now that I'm getting more attuned to the whole spark thing, it's like it draws me in."

Derek looks at him with an expression that makes Stiles think of panic. It's more subtle though, not like when he is on the verge of a panic attack. It's closer to worry and he's not sure what he's supposed to do with that. He's never seen Derek concerned like this about anyone, his own pack and family included.

"Don't let it—" Derek cuts himself off.

Stiles has a flash of a memory hitting him right in the face, the ice bath and the Nemeton and the sacrifice.... he shudders when he blinks himself back into reality.

"Yeah no, not going anywhere near sacrifices ever again," he says quickly. "Once was enough for several lifetimes. Worth it," he says, doing his best to ignore Derek's glare, "but not my best day."

"You mean you being a little dark kitsune shit was not something that came naturally?" Derek asks, sounding a lot lighter.

"Not the dark part," Stiles says.

"Don't go growing tails now either. Don't think you could get away with that in college."

"Eh, might be a nice little party trick. Kind of like you guys with the glowing eyes and all. Did you ever flash them at people when they were drunk?"

Derek grunts out a "no" but it's anything but convincing.

"Halloween has to be fun with that. Scott's claiming he's not taking advantage of the shift, but I think Kira messed with lightbulbs a few times, now that she can control them properly."

To Stiles's surprise, Derek is quiet and when Stiles looks at him properly, he notices the blush on his cheeks.

"Wait, you do, don't you? Get the fangs out, flash your eyes...." Stiles chuckles. "Oh man, the kids have to love that."

"No idea. They're usually too busy running away and screaming," Derek says.

The satisfied grin on his face is a sight to behold. Stiles does just that—he commits the image to memory. It doesn't happen a lot, Derek being relaxed and sharing these kinds of details. He's changed, they all have, but these little snippets of the Derek that he must have been before the fire, before the absolute disaster that some of the past few years were, they're still rare. Stiles cherishes them all the more when it's just them. He feels like he's being let in on a secret when he gets to see Derek smiling, relaxed, willing to just be a person rather than the Alpha.

"With great power," Stiles mutters to himself, then pointedly stares at the water again when Derek raises a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

"So, full moon tomorrow night," he says instead of reacting to Derek's unspoken query. "Please tell me we’re not going to do things like trust falls or other weird bonding things?"

"No. Just us, talking, catching food...."

"Wait, what?"

"Well, not you. Or Lydia. Maybe Danny. But mostly the wolves. We'll head out today and hunt down some food," Derek says with a completely blank expression.

"Like, rabbits? Or a deer?"

"Malia would love that," Derek deadpans. "But no, you idiot. We'll run down to town for some takeout."

Stiles lets out a relieved sigh.

"I'm all for you honing your hunting instincts and all, but I don't think anyone would know what to do with a whole deer. Or how to make it edible to humans," he says. "I'm sure you don't mind your steaks on the rare side, but I prefer mine well done, thank you."

"And I'm pretty sure we can't go hunting for curly fries anyway," Derek tells him. "Not the right season for potatoes."

"Oh ha ha," Stiles says, starting to get off the stone he was sitting on. "Come on, let's get back to the hungry horde before they start eating each other. I think the deer might be a better option than that."

Derek nods and gets up too, then walks by Stiles's side all the way to the camp, where the rest of the packs has settled around the campfire that someone managed to get going and boiled water for coffee. Stiles ignores Scott's curious glance, then Lydia's knowing smirk, and he focuses on the mug that Allison hands him instead.

"Wow, this is a business venture in the making," he says. "If one of you settles in San Francisco in the future, I bet you could make a living selling campfire coffee to hipsters."

"Beats a job in Starbucks," Jackson grumbles.

"Hey, someone's gotta do that," Kira protests. "After all, those are people who make half of you marginally more tolerable in the mornings."

"Not everyone is a morning person," Stiles tells her. "These guys are the things that go bump in the night, after all. Can't expect them to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.... oh wait," he stops with a smirk, then ducks when Scott and Isaac both throw crumpled up paper in his direction.

"None of you shift fully," Derek chimes in. "No bushy tails for you. I'd hope."

Stiles can't help but chuckle when he sees at least Scott and Jackson fail at being sneaky about throwing a glance at their own behinds, a mildly worried expression on their faces.

"So anyway, what's the plan for tonight?" He looks around at everyone in the clearing as he asks. "It's not running after squirrels night yet, are we doing anything specific?"

"Just taking a bit of time off, away from everything," Derek replies. "I'll go run the territory borders, make sure everything is fine."

"Alone?" Stiles frowns.

Something is telling him that it's not a good idea for any of them to be alone in the Preserve, not this close to the full moon. Or ever, really, but especially at this time of the month, it feels like asking for trouble.

"I'll go with," Scott offers, surprising everyone. "I've never done the full circle, you can show me that to look out for."

It's a bit of an olive branch, an opening to what they really came here for—to get the packs together and make them work as a team. Derek obviously sees that and nods.

"Afternoon," he says. "We don't need to rush."

After that, everyone relaxes again and they all focus on breakfast. By the time Derek tells Scott it's time to go, everyone has managed to find a spot of their own and there's chatter and laughter, some quiet conversations going on in the corners. Stiles can't help but look on as Derek and Scott vanish into the woods though. He walks the circle of ash, checking that it's still in place the way he set it up the day before, makes sure he has the rest of it in his pocket, ready to use at a moment's notice.

He's not worried that either of the Alphas will attack the other, but it's like something is out there, waiting to take on all of them.

As the afternoon slowly moves towards the evening, the clouds above them start thickening—another storm approaching, like the one on the other side of the hills the night before. It's another thing that makes Stiles uneasy, especially since he's not sure if it will hit them this time.

The sky is still bright enough when the first bolt of lightning strikes, thunder following some time after, telling him that it wasn't anywhere near. Then there's another one, a little closer.

And then...

Scott dashes into the clearing first, right as the first drops of rain start falling down, the cool water sizzling as it hits the campfire in the center. Derek follows him seconds later and both of them look like they're gearing up for something. What that is, Stiles doesn't know, but his anxiety spikes immediately after he gets a good look at their faces.

"What is it?" Allison asks hurriedly when she walks up to Scott and looks at his face. "I'm gonna.—"

"No, it's fine," Scott tells her, putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her from rushing into the tent.

Stiles figures her plan is to grab whatever weapon she chose to bring this time.

"It's nothing," Derek says. "Well, nothing bad at least."

There are several faces around the clearing that make it obvious that he's not convincing.

"The storm," Scott starts, then pauses to look up at the clouds. "It's closer than we thought it would be and with the lightning...."

His voice trails off and he glances at Derek.

"Forest fire," Stiles says glumly.

He doesn't need to look at the others to know that they all look alarmed.

"We're good here, for the most part. But if it expands, it would be hard to get out," Derek says, glancing around the clearing like he's trying to figure out if there's enough distance between the trees and the tents.

There's another crack in the sky and then the rumble of thunder almost immediately after. Stiles turns towards it quickly and huffs when it becomes obvious that he won't see smoke unless a fire is too close. Then he realizes what effect being surrounded by fire could have on Derek.

"Oh shit," he says and heads for his tent.

He doesn't pay much attention to anyone who's calling his name. There are more important things to be done.

"Where is the... oh come on," he mutters as he rummages through the bag he carefully packed, then the one he hastily threw together that has clothes and other supposed necessities. "Ah!"

When he crawls out of the tent, he sees that the others are glancing up at the sky in between throwing their things into the bags they brought with them.

"You guys can go if you want to, but I can make sure we can stay," he says, loudly enough to be heard by the humans as well.

He looks up and sees no sign of smoke, but he's not convinced that if there is one, it's going to pass them completely. Or that there won't be a fire at all, because he's lived in California his whole life and he knows it doesn't take much.

"The downside would be that we couldn't leave until it's all gone. Which might be a while," he adds, glancing at Derek and Scott. "But since the full moon isn't until tomorrow, it should be okay."

"You can't hold back fire with mountain ash, Stiles," Derek says in a sharp tone.

"I wasn't going to," Stiles tells him. "But remember how Deaton was teaching me about barriers and protective magic?"

"The stuff about mountain ash and the invisible walls?"

It's Scott who's asking, his forehead scrunched in a frown.

"Yeah, but kind of a little better and holding things out rather than keeping them in," Stiles explains. "I've been learning how to raise barriers against pretty much everything. Fire included."

Derek stares at him incredulously and he's the only one Stiles bothers looking at. It's not because he's afraid or worried about the reactions from everyone else. It's because the only reaction that does matter is Derek's. After all, Stiles looked into fire protection because of Derek, because of his history and the effect out of control fires could have on him.

If anyone does ask, Stiles's rehearsed answer is that considering the past, he would be wrong to not prepare himself for all the possibilities. It's an explanation that he knows will be met with understanding nods and will just be chalked down to his tendency to dive into all possible research of anything he comes across.

When Derek doesn't show any kind of a reaction, Stiles shakes his head and then marches over to the edge of the clearing. He carefully walks the line of mountain ash while he's reciting the incantation that he's got memorized, watching his every step and making sure that he doesn't disturb anything he shouldn't be disturbing. When he gets back to the start of the line he doesn't stop a foot away. The barrier closes with a ping that he's sure only he can feel.

"That doesn't feel like a mountain ash circle," Scott says almost immediately.

"It's not," Stiles tells him. "It doesn't hold you in, it just keeps out anything I want to keep out."

"So like, attackers—"

Stiles glances and Isaac, who's frowning and looking around the clearing.

"No, that would still require me closing the ash circle. This keeps out specific things, like fire and smoke," Stiles explains. "If there was a flood, I could keep water out too, but it would be more difficult. Water is a whole different amount of energy."

He looks around the clearing and at everyone. They've all stopped packing and he squirms a little under their gazes. Then, finally, he finds Derek. He's standing behind Boyd and unlike everyone else, his eyes are not on Stiles but on the forest. Then, like he can feel Stiles's gaze, he turns to face him and Stiles barely holds in a gasp that forms in his throat when he sees the expression in Derek's face.

"You did this," Derek says quietly.

The air feels like it's frozen around them. Stiles doesn't look away from Derek when he opens his mouth and talks to the rest of the packs.

"You guys can still go," he says. "Like I said, it doesn't hold you in."

Then, like someone snapped a whip and magically teleported them somewhere else, they all scamper into their tents, leaving only Derek and Stiles in the center of the clearing.

"You.... this is a very specific spell," Derek says, barely loud enough for Stiles to hear. "I know it. Mom knew it. I always wondered..."

As his voice fades out, Stiles cringes. He takes a step forward and doesn't miss the way Derek flinches at the movement.

"Deaton told me it was because he wasn't in the house," Stiles explains, feeling the ache that Derek must be feeling. "It doesn't work from outside."

Derek nods, but it's a small, aborted movement.

"I'm sorry," Stiles says, taking a step back. "We can still go. There might not even be a fire tonight. I just... I wanted to... I know how much you..."

He stops himself. The words that were about to come out of his mouth would have given away the reason why he looked up and learned spells that protect this place and any other place from the elements. Specifically from the one element, from a fire.

"You.... this wasn't just a general precaution, was it?" Derek asks and this time it's him who steps closer.

Stiles shakes his head. If there's something he doesn't want to do right now, it's to lie to Derek. Not now, not ever.

"Why?"

There's a beat, then another one. Stiles takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, but no words come out. Not the ones he wants to say, not the ones he's deliberately holding back, not words that would give Derek an answer without giving away Stiles's secrets.

"You didn't just do this because you wanted to learn whatever protective spells you can," Derek says, a statement and not a question.

Stiles shakes his head again.

"This was about fire. About me."

Stiles nods.

"Why?"

"You know why," Stiles finally manages to say, the words heavy on his tongue. "You know why it mattered."

"Tell me," Derek whispers.

He's suddenly right in front of Stiles, having crossed the space between them faster than Stiles's mind could process.

"I can't," Stiles mutters. "There's no going back if I say it."

"Tell me," Derek pleads.

He lifts his hand to Stiles's cheek, fingers hovering close enough to Stiles’s skin that the heat of Derek's palm radiates against it. Stiles jerkily nods his head and Derek rests his hand on his cheek, then puts his other hand on Stiles's side.

"I love you," Stiles says, the words rushing out with a breath. "I looked into everything I could to make sure that I knew all the ways that I could to prevent not only hunters but also things that could bring back memories."

"Idiot," Derek mumbles, then he leans in.

He pauses before their lips touch, waits for a beat, then closes the distance when Stiles nods again.

"Oh finally," someone says from one of the tents, loud enough that even Stiles can hear it.

They don't stop kissing, not until Derek pulls away and groans, his cheeks coloring in reaction to whatever it is that he heard.

"Your idiot?" Stiles asks when they lean their foreheads together, Derek's palm a steadying weight on his cheek.

"My Emissary?"

Stiles's eyes widen, his mouth opens and then closes. Then, instead of answering, he kisses Derek again, muttering an affirmation between their lips.

"So hey, you two wanna take it somewhere inside?"

It's sometime later—Stiles realizes he's lost track of time—when the question comes from behind Stiles, Scott's voice filled with amusement.

"I mean, I'm sure Erica is all up for getting a show, but if clothes are being lost..."

"Oh shut up," Stiles mutters, feeling his cheeks burn.

He's pleasantly surprised that Scott isn't angry or disappointed, that he's not asking about the whole Emissary thing. It doesn't seem important right now and Stiles knows that he'll try to figure out a way to make it work, to not have to choose an Alpha or a pack to belong to. But in the end, if he can't, if he needs to choose, he knows what choice he'll be making.

"Hey, the storm seems to be over," Kira says then, breaking the momentary tension. "No more lightning."

"No fire," Derek whispers against Stiles's lips.

"Never."

Stiles says it with finality, with a determination that he can feel in his bones.

"Not on my watch," he adds, then chuckles when Derek kisses him again.

"Get a room!"

it's more than just one person shouting those words and Stiles blushes again. This time though, instead of staying rooted on the spot, he reluctantly pulls away from Derek after a quick kiss, then he links their fingers as Derek's hand falls away from Stiles's cheek.

"Come on, I have a tent all to myself," he says with a grin.

"Not anymore, you don't," Derek counters.

They both ignore the groans and cheers that follow them into the tent. Stiles grins when they're in and he pulls the zipper closed.

"Did you know that there are spells to soundproof a place?" Stiles asks.

Derek shakes his head, a smile on his face, then he tugs Stiles onto the sleeping bag and kisses him again.

#sterek fic #sterek #eternalsterek #multifandomwc #multifandomwritingchallenge

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galwednesday · 6 years ago

Text

So back in the summer 2016, I wrote 18k of an immediately post-CA:TWS Shrinkyclinks AU with the working title The Lion and the Mouse, then got distracted and mostly abandoned it. When I was writing Bait and Switch, I stole the concept of how Steve and Bucky met from this WIP, not thinking much about it because I wrote Bait and Switch quickly and didn’t expect to go anywhere with it. Except then people asked for more, and specifically the story of how they met, with Steve saving Bucky from an attempted mugging. Which I, uh, stole. From myself.

I’m doing some writing file clean-out today and when I looked at The Lion and the Mouse I discovered the first 4,000 words are almost entirely complete, up to and including the part where Steve and Bucky meet, so I’m posting it here. This isn’t in the same universe as Bait and Switch, but it’s what I was thinking of when I was writing their character dynamics, and I thought it might interest people who had asked for Bait and Switch’s thwarted-mugging scene.

“Have we met?” Iron Man asked. “Because I gotta say, there’s something familiar about you. But that awesome cyborg arm, which, by the way, you should stop trying to punch me with, I would definitely have remembered, so--” Iron Man failed to dodge the Asset’s grab and was thrown upside-down into the wall of the helicarrier. He stuck there for a moment before falling face-first onto the floor. “Maybe not.”

The Asset scaled the closest ladder in under three seconds. Iron Man was a distraction, not the primary target.

The Asset climbed onto the catwalk and ran towards the Widow. She was ignoring the fight behind her, too busy tampering with something on the control panel.

Targeting system, a dispassionate voice in the Asset’s head supplied. The Asset disregarded the thought as irrelevant. It couldn’t help deducing information based on passive observation, but it had never been encouraged to know more than it was told.

It threw a knife at the Widow’s back. She moved impossibly quickly, turning so the knife passed harmlessly to one side, but that brought her nearly within the Asset’s reach. The Asset lunged forward--

Iron Man lurched over the edge of the catwalk and slammed into the Asset’s side, knocking them both down to the lowest level of the helicarrier, the glass underbelly. The ground drifted past deceptively slowly beneath them. The helicarrier was riding low enough that the Asset could see river water quaking from the repulsor engines’ vibrations.

(continues beyond the cut)

“We’re not done, terminator.” Iron Man tried to pin the Asset’s left wrist, but the Asset had already torn off one of his gauntlets and his one-handed grip wasn’t strong enough. The Asset locked its thighs around Iron Man’s waist and threw its body into a twist. Iron Man rolled with the spin and fired his remaining hand repulsor to gain extra momentum, trying to break free of the Asset’s grip.

The repulsor blast must have hit an already damaged support pillar. One moment the Asset was rolling Iron Man onto the floor like a beetle onto its back, and the next the Asset was stunned and gasping, lying face-up and pinned by a metal beam across its abdomen and chest. The beam was too heavy to lift. The Asset was trapped.

“And the Soldier’s finally down. Jesus.” Iron Man pulled his booted foot free of the fallen beam and staggered upright. “Romanoff, you good?”

“Swap made.” The Widow’s voice was light. “We have seven minutes until the fireworks start.”

“Great.” Iron Man shook his foot, the boot repulsor flickering on and off like a dying lightbulb. “I’m down to one and a half repulsors, so if I’m piggybacking you out of here it’s going to get pretty bumpy.”

Their earpieces crackled, a woman’s voice talking about a helicopter en route. The Asset didn’t bother to listen.

Mission failure. Fear washed through the Asset, cryo-cold. Mission failures were unacceptable. It must not fail the mission.

The Asset braced its elbows against the floor. It set its boots flat against the glass below and pushed up with its hips, ignoring the screaming agony spiraling through its abdomen.

“Easy there, tough guy, you’re going to rupture something. Correction, JARVIS tells me you have ruptured several somethings, and now you’re making it worse. Hill, better send paramedics with the chopper if you want the Soldier to live long enough for interrogation.”

Interrogation sent another pulse of terror down the Asset’s spine. It could remain silent despite almost anything, had been given plenty of practice, but interrogation was never easy to endure.

“You know, you really do look familiar.” Iron Man’s head tilted and his faceplate popped up. He narrowed his eyes at the Asset’s face. “JARVIS, run facial recognition on our party crasher.”

The Asset automatically noted that Iron Man was now vulnerable to a throwing knife to the eye, but both its hands were occupied and killing Iron Man wouldn’t salvage the mission. Mission failure mission failure mission failure.

The Widow appeared over the edge of the gangplank. She took in the situation at a glance and gave Iron Man an exasperated look. “For God’s sake, Stark. Keep your faceplate down until the Soldier is disarmed.” For a moment the Asset saw that same face, with the same annoyed line between her eyebrows, but smaller and rounder. A little girl’s pout laid over eyes that were decades too old.

Malfunction, the Asset thought.

Iron Man didn’t seem to hear her. His head snapped back to face the Asset, his eyes widening. “What? JARVIS, repeat that.”

The whine of its arm’s servos increased in pitch as the Asset strained harder. Fire radiated out from its sternum as additional ribs fractured under the pressure. The beam didn’t move.

The panel of glass beneath the Asset did.

The panel separated from one side of its metal housing with a sharp crack. The Asset watched the gap grow wider by inches, slow but inexorable. The seam was going to fail, and the Asset was going to fall.

The Asset stopped pushing against the beam, letting its body go lax against the slowly shifting glass. There was no way to prevent it. And it was fitting, somehow, that the Asset should die by falling.

The Asset didn’t know why. The Asset knew a lot of things without knowing how it knew them.

Iron Man didn’t notice the panel sagging. His eyes, brown and heavy-browed and incomprehensibly familiar, stared at the Asset’s face.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

The glass gave way.

The Asset fell.

Before it hit the water, words formed somewhere in the whirling chaos behind the Asset’s eyes, shaping themselves in accordance with a long-forgotten accent.

Fuckin’ finally.

[[PROBABLY A CHAPTER BREAK]]

The Asset hadn’t expected to survive the fall. The shock of water closing over its head prompted its body to struggle automatically, kicking towards the light in search of oxygen. Once it was breathing and treading water, extraction training kicked in.

The Asset dragged itself to shore and wove a muddy trail through the parks and back alleys of the city, concealing its passage on autopilot. It tore a strip off its undershirt to tie over the bullet wound in its thigh. Pursuers might have sniffer dogs. The Asset must avoid leaving a blood trail.

Iron Man’s parting words played on repeat. Sergeant Barnes? There was something right-but-not-right about Iron Man’s face, about the Widow’s face, something known-but-not-known. Stark, she had called him. His face, his voice, that name, Sergeant Barnes? The Asset’s head buzzed with dissonance.

The Asset didn’t expect to survive the confrontation with its handlers. The Asset had already known it was scheduled for decommissioning. The technicians routinely forgot how acute its hearing was and discussed forbidden topics where the Asset couldn’t help but overhear; it never drew attention to this in case it was punished for listening. The Asset had known before it even reached the helicarrier that this was to be its final mission. Its failure just proved the handlers right. It had grown unstable, erratic, ineffective. The Asset was a tool that had outlived its usefulness.

The Asset reported in because that was how all the its missions ended, and it didn’t know to do anything different in case of mission failure, but it wouldn’t have surprised the Asset to be greeted with a bullet to the brain as soon as it walked into the bank.

Instead, the five technicians in the vault nearly pissed themselves when the Asset appeared, silent as ever even though it couldn’t stand fully upright. Most of the broken ribs were on its right side where the beam had struck. Its abdomen felt worse than the the ribs, or the gunshot wound in its left thigh, but the Asset could feel its body already working to repair the damage. Soft tissue damage healed quickly. It would survive these injuries, if it was allowed to.

“M-mission report,” one of the technicians stammered. That wasn’t proper procedure, handlers were the ones who debriefed the Asset, but there were no handlers present to report to.

The Asset gave its report anyway. Anticipation of punishment was worse than pain, and it didn’t want to wait. It was going to be decommissioned anyway. What was a protocol violation compared to the mission failure it was about to recount?

The Asset’s summary of events made the technicians draw together in a frightened huddle. Two of them kept glancing at the door, either hopeful or worried about who might come through next. Another, the quietest and calmest, snuck two quick looks at the bulletin board the Asset knew concealed a wall safe containing cash and emergency supplies. The other two appeared to be in a state of shock.

“Fuck,” one whispered when the Asset finished. “The news was right. Shit, oh shit.”

“Does that mean Pierce is really dead?”

“The STRIKE teams haven’t checked in. If they were on the helicarriers--”

“They must be dead, too. Or arrested.”

“Christ, look at all these files.” One technician was at a computer, her face frantic as she typed. “They released everything. Everything.”

“What about this address? Is this base burned?”

“Fuck, forget about the base, what about our addresses? Our names?”

“Stop trying to grab the keyboard, look on your own fucking computer!”

The technicians bickered while the Asset stood against the wall. Nobody had told it to do anything else.

The wait gave its ribs time to knit back together. The searing pain in its abdomen lessened, slowly fading into the deep ache of bruising instead of the acute fire of rupture. The Asset was extremely thirsty, but nobody had given it water. The gunshot wound in its thigh reopened as its body worked to expel the embedded bullet. Eventually the bullet dropped down its pant leg, resting on the top of its boot.

Its mind rattled. It hurt, conflicting thoughts grinding against each other, forbidden memories and whistling gaps. The chair would scrape the confusion away, but the chair--

The Asset didn’t like the chair.

The quietest technician wasn’t searching for information like the others. He was sitting at his desk, thinking, watching the other technicians. Watching the Asset. Sweat gathered at his temples and darkened his hair.

The Asset tracked his movements when the quiet technician pulled a pistol from a desk drawer.

The other technicians were facing away, arguing among themselves and distracted by their computers. Easy targets.

The armed technician killed the others. He was fast and fairly professional about it, needing no more than three bullets per target before they stayed down, but it was loud and messy all the same. The shots echoed in the enclosed space despite the vault’s sound-proofing, bleeding into one staccato cacophony.

The Asset watched silently as the technician swallowed hard and readjusted his grip on the pistol. He lowered it to his side.

“Asset,” the technician said. He pulled the bulletin board off the wall. “Open this safe.”

The Asset didn’t know the combination of the safe, but it was an older model and had never been built to stand up to a weapon like the Asset’s arm. One heave on the door handle pulled the entire safe from its wall housing. The movement reopened the Asset’s wounds, sending more acid through its abdomen and a rush of hot blood down its thigh, but the pain wasn’t mission relevant. It could be ignored.

The Asset threw the safe across the room. It smashed corner-first into the reinforced vault door and burst open, spilling its contents onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ! You crazy fucker.” The technician glared at the Asset. “There are grenades in there, fuck.”

The Asset felt a little indignant. The technician should have included this information in the mission briefing if he felt it was relevant. The watching part of the Asset, the part that eavesdropped on handlers and kept its conclusions to itself, thought that the technician was a poor substitute for a handler. He didn’t observe the proper protocols. Probably didn’t know the proper protocols.

Running scared, the watching part Asset thought. Pierce was dead. The STRIKE teams were dead or captured. Hydra’s files had been released to the world. Low-level Hydra agents would be running scared.

If there was one emotion the Asset could reliably recognize, one pattern of behavior it could predict, it was fear.

Who was authorized to command the Asset, with Pierce and Rumlow out of commission? Who was authorized to punish the Asset for mission failure? Who would issue corrections for disobedience?

The watching part of the Asset unfurled and stretched.

The technician glanced up from where he was kneeling by the safe, scooping bundled papers and bricks of cash into a paper bag. He jerked his chin at the Asset’s thigh, which was still oozing blood. “Can you fight with that?”

It was a stupid question. The Asset’s internal ruptures were far more limiting to mission performance than a mostly-healed flesh wound. But the technician had never ordered the Asset to report its full status, so he was unaware of the extent of the damage. Not a handler, the Asset reminded itself. Its pulse picked up with an emotion it couldn’t identify, something like the feeling of checking weapons before a firefight.

“Functional for moderate combat,” the Asset reported. It added, because the technician was clearly not going to think of it on his own, “Rehydration necessary.”

The technician took a coffee cup from one of the desks, filled it from the water cooler in the corner, and pressed it into the Asset’s hands. The Asset drained it quickly before it could be taken away. The water was cool and pleasantly tasteless, much better than the noxious river water it had swallowed earlier or the nutrient IVs it was usually given. Evidently there were advantages to not having a real handler.

The technician looked at the chair and frowned. The Asset’s grip on the coffee mug tightened, but the technician was a cryo specialist. He didn’t know how to use the chair, and he had just killed the technicians that did.

“Fuck it,” the technician muttered. He grabbed the bags of cash and weapons and jerked his head at the door. “Asset, move out.”

***

The technician waved the Asset into the passenger’s seat of one of the field vans, not the black one that rode heavy with armor plating, but the white one with “RUSTY’S PLUMBING - RESULTS GUARANTEED!” painted on its side in big, looping letters. He put the bags of cash and weapons into the back and tucked his pistol into a holster hidden under his blue windbreaker. He put on a headset and connected it to his phone before he started driving, pulling onto I-95 and heading north.

“Buckle your seat belt,” the technician ordered. The Asset complied. It was good to ride in the front of a vehicle, with a full range of vision for upcoming obstacles or threats. The trees lining the highway were pleasant to look at. The Asset occupied itself by memorizing the license plate of every car they passed.

The technician received a call after 22 minutes of driving.

“What?” the technician demanded. “No, I told you. Get the STRIKE teams out of lockup and meet me at the rendezvous in Trenton. Blow up the building if you have to, just stop them from getting transferred to somewhere more secure.” A pause, then the technician slammed his palm onto the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck your cover! Are you even listening to me? I cleaned out the base in D.C. I have the Asset. Shit, that’s enough to start a new cell right there. Your cover’s blown already. All our covers are blown, once they decode those files.” Another, longer pause. “Do whatever you have to do. Report in three hours.” The technician yanked off his headset and slumped back in his seat. “Fucking moron.”

The technician listened to the radio the entire drive, sometimes swearing or punching the dashboard as news anchors revealed a new piece of information. The Asset sat silently without giving any sign that it registered what was being said.

The radio gave names for Iron Man and the Black Widow: Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. The names were right-but-wrong just like the faces.

Sergeant Barnes. The news didn’t mention that name. The news didn’t mention the Asset at all, although it had a lot to say about Alexander Pierce and Nick Fury and SHIELD and Hydra and Natasha Romanov and Tony Stark. The Asset rolled the names through its mind, lost in thought. Tony Stark. Sergeant Barnes. Natasha Romanoff. Natasha, Natashenka, Nat…

The Asset couldn’t arrive at the correct name, but Nat recalled a child with red hair and a killer’s eyes. The Black Widow’s face in miniature.

Malfunction, the Asset thought automatically. It hadn’t been wiped in more than nine days, far longer than standard protocol. One of the technicians had complained to a handler about it and had been overruled. The Asset’s initial assassination of Fury, Nicholas J. had spawned unexpected, urgent follow-up missions as Hydra’s maneuvers were countered by SHIELD loyalists, and Rumlow had wanted the Asset to be field-ready at a moment’s notice.

Wipes kept mission-irrelevant memories at bay. The Asset was to report unauthorized memories to its handler at once, so the distractions could be properly removed.

The Asset had no handlers left to report to. The Asset said nothing. The watching part of the Asset approved. It wanted to wait and see what would happen.

The Asset was very good at waiting.

They stopped in Pennsylvania, just shy of the border with New Jersey. The technician left the Asset in the car while he pumped gas. Once the tank was full, the technician hovered by the car for a few moments, then opened the passenger-side door.

“Out,” the technician ordered. “We’re going inside. Stay behind me. Don’t say anything. Got it?”

“Confirm.” Standing up was a mix of pleasurable stretching of cramped muscles and painful pulling on wounds that hadn’t quite healed. The Asset’s abdomen felt hot and tender but essentially sound. Its thigh wound had closed and was forming scar tissue that would fade away within a week. The Asset could fight if it had to; it had pushed through injuries that were much worse.

The gas station was empty apart from a clerk at the desk who glanced up at the technician and the Asset, then went back to reading her magazine. The Asset shadowed the technician’s footsteps, taking a perverse pleasure in hiding in the technician’s blind spot, so the technician was constantly turning his head to catch sight of it. Malfunction, the Asset thought, just a little more smug than wary. The technician wasn’t a handler. The technician could hurt the Asset in the course of regular maintenance, when the Asset’s pain was incidental, but he didn’t have the authority to discipline it.

Whoever the technician was taking the Asset to might have that authority. Sobered by the thought, the Asset dropped back a few more paces. The radio had claimed that Alexander Pierce was dead, but there were others. There were always others.

[[TV playing in the corner shows driver’s license photos of suspected Hydra personnel that includes the technician; he sees the store clerk recognize him]]

“Shit,” the technician hissed, face twisting. He pulled his gun from the small of his back.

The clerk froze in place, her mouth opening in shock.

The Asset moved without knowing it was going to. Its flesh hand snatched the gun from the technician’s grip. The technician’s head snapped back as the Asset’s metal fist collided with its chin. The Asset heard the crack of bone.

The cashier screamed.

The technician was dead before he hit the floor.

The Asset separated the clip from the gun, set both of them on the floor, and left the gas station at a sprint.

[[disables tracker and whatever drug ampoules he can reach, manages to backtrack to Philly before collapsing to ride out the withdrawal]]

The Asset hadn’t expected to survive coming down from whatever drugs Hydra had used to keep it docile and compliant. At the worst stage of the withdrawal, when it was shaking, puking, and hallucinating in the basement of a condemned building, it had wished it was back in cryo, numb and frozen and not hurting. It would even have gone to the chair.

Two days later, it had crawled out of the basement, filthy and exhausted but more clear-headed than it could ever remember being.

The Asset was starting to feel a certain kinship with cockroaches.

The Asset spent more than a month just keeping low, moving only through shadows and sleeping once every three days, curling up on rooftops and in flophouses. Hydra didn’t find it. SHIELD didn’t find it. The Asset wasn’t sure there was any difference between the two, no matter what the radio had said, but either way, it wanted to avoid the interrogation Stark’s words had promised.

The Asset ruminated on Romanoff and Stark. It thought maybe Romanoff had been a fellow asset, and Stark had been a technician. Or maybe Stark was a stranger and Romanov an enemy. The Asset couldn’t decide, couldn’t seem to settle on a conclusion.

Neither of them had been a handler. The Asset was sure of that. Hydra had burned the memories of past missions out of its head, but they had made sure the Asset’s ability to recognize its betters was crystal fucking clear.

The Asset’s head ached constantly. Sometimes the pain was just a mild inconvenience, and sometimes it was incapacitating. It wasn’t clear whether to the Asset whether its brain was healing, or just turning to mush. The Asset had been eating mostly from trash cans. Its memories were incomplete at best, but it was certain people didn’t used to throw away so much food. Bruised fruit, stale bread, half-eaten hamburgers. Finding enough to sustain itself hadn’t been difficult.

The hand’s fingers did not open or close. The Asset had opened the forearm access panel and ripped out whatever it could reach, knowing that one of the components was a tracker and unable to distinguish which one. It had felt like fire burning up through the arm and into the shoulder, radiating agony down its back and up its neck into its skull, before the nervous system feedback had, mercifully, shorted out. The Asset could still raise the arm and rotate it at the elbow and shoulder, but the wrist and hand joints were locked in place.

It took weeks for the Asset to form anything approaching a plan. Taking care of basic needs like thirst and hunger were instinctual enough that the Asset could do them on autopilot, but it was out of the habit of thinking for itself.

[[Heads to Brooklyn like a homing pigeon; has vague memories of safety and belonging there. When he arrives, wanders disconsolately looking for where he used to live (without knowing that’s what he’s looking for), but can’t find it. The closest he can find is an alley, where he tries to sleep.]]

The Asset had been asleep with its head on the backpack. Tactical error. One of the boys must have pulled the backpack out by its straps. Now the backpack was four feet away, at the largest boy’s feet.

The three boys had frozen when the Asset swung upright, but as seconds passed while the Asset did nothing but stand rigidly still, they relaxed.

“Woah, easy there,” one of them said. He took a few steps away and looked at the mouth of the alley, either checking for pursuers or scouting an escape route.

“Relax, he’s just a fucking junkie,” the largest boy said quietly. Then, louder, “What’s in the backpack, man? You gonna share?”

The boy crouched beside the backpack, reaching for the zipper.

The Asset could kill him so easily, even with one malfunctioning hand. The steps were as clear as a roadmap: immobilize shoulder, grasp head, twist, drop. It would take less than a second.

The thought made its stomach churn. The Asset held itself rigid, every muscle locked in place, afraid that moving would lead to another body at its feet.

“Hey!” A new boy, his hair startlingly bright in the gloom of the alley, charged forward from the alley’s other end. He stepped in between the Asset and the threat and puffed up like an angry goose. His baggy coat and overstuffed backpack made him appear larger than his thin legs suggested he was. “Leave him alone!”

“Alex,” the third boy muttered, tugging on the largest boy’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Alex shrugged the hand off. He was half a foot taller than the boy standing challengingly in front of him. “We were just talking. What’s it to you?”

“You need to leave,” the blond boy said, voice hard. “You can’t just take people’s stuff.”

“Fuck you, I’ll go when I want to,” Alex retorted. “And I want to see what’s in the backpack first.”

Alex reached for the backpack’s zipper, but the blond boy slapped his hand away before he could touch it.

Enraged, Alex drew back his fist.

The Asset moved.

Alex’s punch landed full force on the Asset’s metal arm, sending a ringing vibration through its shoulder. Alex howled and pulled his hand back to his chest.

“You fucking--”

“Come on, Alex!” the second boy shouted. The third was already running. Alex let himself be pulled out of the alley, and within seconds the Asset was alone with the blond boy.

On closer inspection, the boy wasn’t a boy at all. He was short, no more than five and a half feet, but his voice was deep and his face had no trace of baby fat. The Asset estimated the man was in his mid-twenties.

“Sorry you had to deal with those guys,” the man said. He took a few steps back, leaving the Asset standing over its backpack. “I know one of them, he’s not so bad, but his cousin is a total dick. Are you all right? That sounded like a pretty hard punch." The man reached out and ran both hands up the Asset's left arm. The Asset didn't allow itself to flinch away.

The man’s hands squeezed gently, paused, squeezed more firmly. "Wow, that's--" His eyes went wide and his hands dropped away from the arm. He held them spread at chest height for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed your arm without asking. That was not okay, geez."

The Asset had no idea what was going on, but the man seemed upset, which made it nervous. Things didn’t go well when people around the Asset were upset.

It slowly picked up the backpack. When the man didn't do anything but watch, the Asset settled the backpack straps over its shoulders, feeling more secure.

The man reached his pocket and the Asset tensed. It calculated the hang of the jacket and the size of the pocket bulge automatically; not heavy enough for a gun, but a knife could be small and light, or a taser--

He pulled out a rectangle wrapped in blue foil. "Are you hungry? I have an energy bar. It's, uh." He flipped the bar over and squinted in the dim light. "Blueberry lemon flavored. You want any?"

The man half-unwrapped the bar and handed it to the Asset. The Asset took it and bit, tentatively. It was chalky and sweet. Blueberry lemon, it thought, memorizing the taste.

“Not bad, right?" the man said. "That was my last one, sorry. Are you still hungry?"

The Asset knew better than to admit to a weakness, but the man seemed to know anyway. He just kept talking.

"I know a church near here that has food, usually, and a place to sleep if you don't mind waking up with the bells. We could go there now, if you want."

The Asset thought about this. It had to sleep somewhere, and evidently the alley wasn’t safe. The blond man wasn't a threat. If the church was a trap, the Asset could run.

The Asset nodded, and the man smiled.

"Great! It's a little over a mile, are you okay to walk that? Oh!" He smacked his forehead, making the Asset startle. "I forgot to introduce myself, sorry. My name's Steve."

SO THAT’S WHAT I GOT. I have about 14,000 more words of this story written, so either I’ll finish it and post it as a complete fic or I’ll officially give up and post it somewhere as a morgue file.

#fic clean-out #The Lion and the Mouse #I've got a solid beginning and most of an end and a big pile of mush in the middle #it's kind of fascinating to see how I was writing two years ago #I made a bunch of little edits while I was reading through but I can still see the style differences

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almaasi · 7 years ago

Text

Here’s a handy post with ALL 15 of the Destiel fics I posted this year!! (Total word count for the year: 366,181.)

2017 has been a year of drama, demisexual Cas, and dogs. (Seriously, a LOT of dogs.) Wow, I did awesome - and I think my personal health journey is well-reflected in the topics, from depression recovery and weirdness in January to fluff and smut in the last months of the year.

I hope you enjoy reading these even more than I enjoyed writing them ♥

✦ Mostly In Silence · 4k · G · hurt-comfort + depression recovery

Dean returns home to the bunker, only to find Castiel is lost in a deep depression. Taking their cues from the night sky (perhaps holding hands, perhaps sharing their first kiss), Dean helps Castiel rediscover a small but shining sense of hope.

✦ Lucid Nightmare · 10k · T · basically weird meta about fanfic AUs

there’s fire in this city // sirens, ghosts, and earthquakes // one night, you protect me // and we run until dawn breaks //

Or:

A spooky, fluffy, mind-warping existential-themed half-fic half-poem, in which Dean saves siren!Cas from a real-life waking nightmare and drives him to Bobby’s house for safety. But as Cas reveals more about himself and his past, Dean comes to realise he has to let his new winged friend enter his mind and dreamwalk, or else Cas will die.

✦ A Place and a Feeling · 24k · NC-17 · fluffy drama + domesticity + smut

Human AU. Dean Winchester still hasn’t found the perfect little house in the suburbs he’s always dreamed of. On the off-chance that another meeting with his totally adorkable realtor could finally change everything, Dean keeps going back to Castiel’s agency. Like Cas always says, home is both a place and a feeling. But what if the place Dean’s looking for is Castiel’s house, and the feeling is Castiel himself? Sometimes the most unprofessional choices lead to the most enjoyable personal consequences. This is one of those times.

✦ Our Garden Home · 36k · G · cute overload fairy AU

Flower fairy Dean has caught a thief in his trap. As it turns out, it wasn’t a mouse stealing his food. It was Castiel: a hissy, bitey bat sprite with one wing and a forlorn, lonely heart. Dean offers a warm space in his nest, where Castiel can stay until Springtime comes around again. However, Castiel becomes more than just a guest. With a little effort, he helps make Dean’s nest a home.

✦ Night Exhibition · 27k · NC-17 · friends to lovers + smut (rimming!)

Welcome to the world’s most generic museum. In the café, you’ll find Dean, putting dinosaur cut-outs on his award-winning apple pies. In the gift shop, you’ll find his snarky yet devastatingly handsome friend Castiel, folding t-shirts for a living. But Castiel has a second job as a night watchman, patrolling the marble halls and protecting the museum exhibits after dark. One night, Dean asks to tag along. He could never resist a crisp blue uniform, and he’ll take any opportunity to have his friend show it off. It might take all night, one dance, and a playful sex act (or five) in a few unusual places around the museum before either of them realise… maybe Dean’s interest was never about the uniform. And maybe their friendship was already something else.

✦ What We Ache For · 93k · NC-17 · hurt-comfort + domesticity

Working as a prostitute (that’s ‘sex worker’ to the decent folks), Castiel has heard more than his fair share of odd requests. When he’s paid to spend a night with Dean Winchester (handsome, dork of all dorks, has a nice car… secretly a cop), the last thing Castiel expects to hear are the words “I wanna make love.” That’s the one thing he’s never done before – so Dean is going to show him how to do it. But then, barely a month after that night is over, Castiel finds himself in a difficult situation, and Dean is mistakenly summoned to help. They begin to share again: Dean’s apartment, the spare bed, their deepest secrets. Over time, with the support of Dean’s brother Sam, a mystery dog, and lots of cuddles, kisses, comfort, and tea, maybe Cas can finally be loved the way he deserves.

✦ Purple Horse in a Coffee Shop · 8k · G · fun & silly office romance

Nobody expects to see a purple horse at a Pride parade. So, naturally, Dean Winchester is surprised to meet his office co-worker and long-term crush, Castiel, riding atop a magnificent steed - and dressed in full wizard regalia, no less. Somehow, Cas thinks he (and his decked-out horse) are wearing grey. They visit a coffee shop with their friends and family, trying to get to the bottom of this mix-up - and apparently the purple horse is coming too.

“One medium black coffee with two sugars; one macchiato; three small soy lattes; one large decaf with a caramel shot - and ten apples, please.”

✦ Unconditional · 2k · T · hurt-comfort + meta about Dean & John Winchester

Over the years, Dean’s learned a lot about himself, and the way he loves those around him. Now Cas is back from the dead, and he came back human - and hurt. As Dean soothes Cas’ wounds in the front seat of the Impala, an ache in his heart drives him to find words to explain.

✦ The Wireless · 58k · NC-17 · solar punk + the most holy-shit thing I have ever written imo

Cas Novak hosts a popular radio show, entertaining hunters with his psychic powers. But, in a world where monster-hunting is commonplace, he harbours a powerful secret: he’s not human, but an angel, surviving in a society unsympathetic to his kind. For six years, Cas has read out news stories describing a particularly impressive man: Dean Winchester, distinguished hunter and accidental prophet of God. Not by chance, Cas meets Dean at a sunny autumn carnival, where Dean’s taken a job at a kissing booth. One kiss - perhaps two - and they’re already old friends, sharing fairground food, a carousel ride, another kiss on the ferris wheel… Finally, safe in the tent Dean shares with his brother, Castiel feels comfortable enough to reveal those unknown pieces of himself. But come morning, bigger events separate the trio: an ancient beast is waking up, and a fearful world desperately needs to be united. Now Castiel has a reason to confess his true nature, broadcasting live on Hunter Radio. Of course, Dean is listening. And it’s only a matter of time before he replies.

✦ Marshmalloween · 33k · T · lighthearted “teenagers vs. a haunted swamp” adventure

In an attempt to be the world’s coolest guardian, Dean takes his seventeen-year old brother Sam and all his friends to a ‘haunted’ swamp for Halloween night. Even if the ghost stories are a load of baloney, at least the alligators are real. Dean is unexpectedly reunited with his childhood friend (and crush) Castiel, kickstarting a fun night of Halloween antics - marshmallow toasting, bottle spinning, kiss exchanging, and spooky storytelling around the campfire. But when Sam and his dog both go missing, Dean realises the stories his mother once told him are all true. Monsters are real. And unless Dean, Cas, and all of Sam’s friends can figure out how to bring Sam back, he might be lost forever.

✦ Restaurant Revelations · 4k · G · fluffy relationship reveal

Dean and Cas have something important to tell Sam. They don their cheap rental tuxes, and Cas takes out dinner reservations at an exclusive restaurant just for the occasion. Sam is surprised enough when he and Cas make it through the door. But Dean shows up five minutes late, and the restaurant’s security protocols surely make it impossible for him to join them. The secret password is “fiancé”. And somehow Dean knows without being told.

✦ Stumble and Fall · 20k · G · dog adventures + cuddles

Dog AU. Ever since Dean was a puppy, training to be the world’s best sniffer dog, he hasn’t been able to sleep alone. His newest mission takes him well out of his comfort zone: he’s teamed up with a search-and-rescue mutt named Castiel (who, presumably, still has the vet’s thermometer stuck up his ass). But Dean was never built for snowy mountains – and only by snuggling up tight will he and Castiel share enough heat to make it through the night. Except, once Dean is home safe, he finds himself pining for his canine friend…

✦ Pretty Panties and the Pool Shark · 6k · G · kid fic

Castiel is beginning to understand how deceitful his fellow ten-year-olds can be. All the other boys in his swim class keep trying to convince him that there’s a live shark in the pool. And now Dean’s claiming that the panties in his bag belong to his sister, when Castiel knows for a fact that Dean doesn’t have a sister. Castiel is sick of being lied to. But, once Dean reveals a few truths, perhaps they can find a way to make sure the other kids’ teasing comes back to bite them - so to speak.

✦ Whoa There Cowboy · 5k · NC-17 · cowboy kink smut

If you’re gonna jerk off, watch something you find sexy, Dean said. There’s a dirty cowboy movie on TV, and that suits him perfectly. But he never expected that Cas would want to watch him.

✦ The Emporium of Christmas Enchantments · 28k · G · Christmas magic + cute overload

Every night when the clock strikes twelve, all the toys in the toymaker’s workshop come to life. Dean is a little wooden soldier, so easily distracted by the pretty dolls. However, in the nights leading up to Christmas, he feels drawn to a very different kind of toy: Castiel, a kindhearted cowboy displayed on the other side of the store. Dean and Castiel spend all their time together, spreading joy and festive cheer throughout their miniature community. But once the Christmas rush comes around, will fate allow them to stay together? (Perhaps… with a little sprinkling of Christmas magic, even the wishes of simple toys can come true.)

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Destiel fic rec #DeanCas #Elmie writes things #long post #post of postiness #Elmie makes things #2017

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droneseco · 4 years ago

Text

Bosma Aegis: Affordable and Secure Smart Lock

Aegis

9.70 / 10

Read More Reviews

Key Features

Auto Lock/Unlock

AES 128-Bit Encryption

Remote Unlock

Phone Unlock

Easy Installation

Door-breaking Detection

Fingerprint Unlock (Requires Bosma Sentry Doorbell)

Access Management

Bosma App

Amazon Alexa and Google Home Integration

Door Open/Close Detection

Specifications

Brand: Bosma

Connectivity: Wi-Fi/Bluetooth

Integrations: Amazon Alexa, Google Home

Compatible Locks: Most Deadbolts

Battery: 4 AA

Keypad: N/A

Pros

Installation is extremely easy

Alexa Integration works well

Door Open/Close Detection is Surprisingly Accurate

Added Security with ~80Db Break-In Alarm

Retain Current Keys

Cons

Chimes At Open/Close

Slightly Askew When Installed Properly

Jams If Door Not Completely Closed/Swollen

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It used to be that you only had a few choices when selecting great smart home products. However, the last few years have put several fantastic new companies on the map. One of those companies is Bosma. Until recently, its product line included smart doorbells, intrusion sensors, and smart lighting. Now, the company’s newest product, an interior-only smart door lock called the Aegis—yes, like Zeus’ famous shield—aims to provide both homeowners and renters with the convenience of a smart lock.

But can this new device secure its place among significant competitors like August and Wyze? We're answering that question, along with a few others in this full Bosma Aegis smart lock review.

To celebrate the launch on April 6th, for one day only you can get 50% off the usual purchase price on Amazon with our exclusive coupon code 50MakeUseOf.

Meet the Bosma Aegis

The best way to describe Aegis is to call it an upgrade to your current door lock. The thing that makes the Aegis different is that it will allow you to retain your keys. It does this by replacing only the inner portion of your existing deadbolt. This setup is similar to both the August Smart Lock and the Wyze Lock, which are Aegis’ two most prominent competitors.

For those familiar with the August Smart Lock, the design of the Aegis is eerily similar. It uses a similar mounting plate, a similar rotational design, a matching set of plastic inserts for the deadbolt’s cam bar, and even similar packaging. But this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. A broader selection of the same products often improves both quality and choice from a consumer perspective.

Additionally, Aegis offers built-in door detection, which can alert you if your door has been left open. Aegis does this without the use of stick-on magnets or additional sensors. For security, Aegis sends all data via AES 128-bit encryption. This extra level of protection keeps would-be data sniffers from potentially accessing information that could lead to a break-in.

The Aegis also supports both Amazon Alexa and Google Home. So, if you’re looking to control your smart lock with your voice, the possibility is there. Currently, the Aegis is for sale on Bosma’s website for $119 by itself and $249 if you bundle the lock with the Bosma Sentry video doorbell.

Who Is the Aegis For?

Because the Aegis doesn’t require permanent alteration of the door lock, this product is great for renters and homeowners alike. The device is also great for those with a mix of tech-savvy and non-techie folks living in their home.

If, for example, a family member would prefer to operate the Aegis lock using a standard key, they can. Meanwhile, those smart home users who would rather have the flexibility of an app can choose to forgo the keys altogether.

And, if you’d like to use biometrics with the Aegis, Bosma also manufactures the Sentry Video Doorbell that recognizes fingerprints to operate the smart lock without the need for a phone. We weren’t able to test the doorbell, but it looks promising.

However, if you’re looking for a smart lock that works with Apple HomeKit, the Aegis does not currently offer support. That may change in a future release, but for now, Aegis is limited to Amazon Alexa and Google Home.

Related: Smart Home Products to Install When Moving to a New Home

What’s in the Box?

Inside the Bosma Aegis’ upscale packaging, there is the lock itself, the Bosma Gateway, four AA batteries, a set of three adapters, a length of painter’s tape, and an instruction guide. While I don’t usually comment on an item’s presentation, I feel it is essential to acknowledge the aesthetic appeal of Aegis’s packaging. To me, it just looks like a classy product.

Assembly and Installation

The Aegis smart lock is effortless to install. I had this lock set up and configured in less than ten minutes. The installation is as simple as applying the strip of included painter’s tape over the deadbolt’s front portion, removing the supporting screws from the back of the deadbolt, and installing the mounting bracket. Choose the adapter that works best for the cam bar, slide the lock portion on, and slide down the wings to secure.

It’s a surprisingly simple installation, and this is great for those who aren’t super handy. When getting the lock together, the only trouble I had was that I didn’t realize the battery compartment’s cover was magnetic at first.

Initially, I thought that the tabs inside the body of the lock were what fastened the cover to the assembly, and I tried to press-fit the cover together. After struggling for a few moments, I rotated the cover, and it magnetically snapped into place. While this wasn’t much of an issue, I think that Bosma might want to add a note about magnetic cover attachment in its instructions for the unit.

Once installed, you must connect the Aegis to the included Gateway device. This process is simple and consists of plugging the device into a power outlet, holding down a button until the light on the Gateway blinks, and then activating the lock. Again, this was straightforward.

Bosma also offers an app that is necessary to calibrate the lock. This application walks the user through calibration, and Bosma has taken every step to ensure that this process is foolproof. Anyone should feel confident that they can install this lock without any trouble.

Related: How to Install A Smart Door Lock

Testing the Aegis

After installing the Aegis, I spent a week testing the smart lock to see how it performed under ideal and less-than-ideal situations. I first tried the app’s lock and unlock functions from different locations in my house. As long as the wireless network was up, the lock functioned perfectly every time. I even tried rapidly locking and unlocking the Aegis to see if I could confuse it and cause it to jam. I could not get this to happen even after about a half-hour of constant locking and unlocking.

Next up, I tried to see what would happen if I “broke into” my home while the Aegis was active. One of Aegis’ key features is its “door-breaking” detection. This detection alerts the homeowner if someone is attempting to force the door open. I installed the Aegis on my back door, just so the neighbors wouldn’t think I was crazy, and subsequently tried to breach the door by kicking it a few times.

Once the Aegis registered the impact, I received an alert to my phone, and a siren sounded from inside the door. Bosma claims this siren is 80Db, though testing the alarm up close found the sound between 68Db and 76Db. Aegis’ siren also only lasted a few seconds, but it was loud enough to hear on the opposite side of the door when closed.

While this siren alone might be enough to deter would-be thieves, I think the more critical element is the notification that I received. If I had been out running errands and gotten this notification, I could have easily contacted the police. I think this is a remarkable feature, and I appreciate Aegis’s added security, without any extra equipment to purchase.

Next up, I wanted to see how Bosma’s offering performed when faced with a common issue in New England—door swell. The problem with swelling doors is that they often don’t close completely. Instead, there will be slight friction between the deadbolt and the strike plate on the door frame. I pushed and pulled my back door to emulate this condition until the deadbolt would not move smoothly past the strike plate.

As I feared, the Aegis motor engaged, extended the deadbolt slightly, and jammed after being unable to push quickly past the strike plate. To remedy this condition, I pressed against the door until the deadbolt could clear the strike plate, manually locked the door, and then tried to unlock it. At this point, the Aegis got a bit cranky, but once the strike plate was clear, the deadbolt slid into place.

This test wasn’t the most scientific, but it is worth mentioning. If your doors are prone to swelling, then this smart lock might not be the best choice for your home. On the other hand, if your front door doesn’t stick and has plenty of clearance, Aegis works excellent.

Finally, I wanted to see how this lock would work with Amazon Alexa integration. For that, you have to download the Bosma skill in the Alexa app. After setting the skill up and setting a passcode, I could lock and unlock the Aegis by asking Alexa to do so. Additionally, passcode integration ensures that no one outside your home can gain access by invoking your smart assistant.

Download: Bosma Skill for Amazon Alexa (Free)

What Do We Love About the Aegis?

I think there is a lot to love about the Aegis, but the primary draw is using this lock for different applications. If you’re a renter and don’t want everyone knowing that you have a smart lock, Aegis will fit the bill perfectly. Its removable nature also means that it’s easy to swap out when you move. That means you can take it with you, from home to home, without any loss of function.

The included Gateway is also a nice feature for operating this lock remotely. That means if you want to give access to friends or family while you’re away, then you can do so with just a few taps on your screen.

Aegis has also got to be one of the most straightforward smart home products I’ve ever installed in my smart home. I wish some of the other products that I’ve purchased over the years were this simple to get up and running. If you can use a screwdriver, you can add Aegis to your home in a matter of minutes.

What’s Not to Love?

There are only a few minor complaints I have about this smart lock. The first is the position of the lock when closed. On the outside of the hexagonal shell of the Aegis, there is a Bosma logo. In a perfect world, that logo would be parallel to the ground when installed. However, because of some play in the lock shell, I find that the unit turns a bit past the parallel mark when the deadbolt extends.

This issue also results in the Bosma logo on the lock’s rear button sitting slightly off-level when my door locks. Bosma has addressed this issue by stating that end users can rotate the mounting plate of the Aegis by around 20 degrees either toward or away from the edge of the door. In my case, adjusting the bracket didn’t help. It’s a minor issue, but if you’re the type of person where everything has to be perfectly aligned, then this might be a problem for you.

Secondly, I wish there were a way to disable the chime this lock makes when you open and close the door. Again this is a minor gripe, but I would prefer the lock not to play music, or at the very least to have some type of volume reduction option.

Aside from these two minor issues, I feel that the Aegis smart lock is a fantastic value. If all of Bosma’s products are this high-quality, then the company has a very bright future ahead in the smart home industry.

Related: The Best Smart Doorbells For Your Home

Can You Repair the Aegis Smart Lock?

Unfortunately, no. You cannot repair this smart lock. However, Bosma does offer a one-year warranty against any kind of manufacturer defects. This warranty seems to be in line with other smart lock manufacturers.

Should You Buy the Aegis Smart Lock?

Overall, we really like the Aegis smart lock by Bosma. It’s a great product at a reasonable price. While it might not be for everyone, we’re confident that most smart homeowners will be satisfied by Aegis’s performance and quality. It’s an excellent option for anyone who isn’t looking to break the bank and for those stealthy smart home ninjas hoping to recover every penny of their security deposit.

Bosma Aegis: Affordable and Secure Smart Lock published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

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fantazeerps · 5 years ago

Text

Mox Meni’s Many Amenities

5e Edition!

For people who actually trust her, Mox supplies Trinity City’s guild with all manner of alchemical goods to fund her more important research.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

Ctrl+F and type in the numbers or the words for ease of searching

01: Survival Tools: Things to help your adventures through the world a little easier.

02: Weapons: Deal damage and inhibit your foes.

03: Medicines: Undo what’s been done to your poor character

04: Potions and Poisons: Prepare for anything with some magical juice

05: Wondrous Items: High-class mystical junk.

06: The Top Shelf: Too dangerous to give out willy-nilly.

07: The Bargain Bin: For silly and fun stuff!

—————-

01: Survival Tools

—————-

Sunrod: “All the usefulness of the sun, none of the downsides.” Foot-long stick that can be activated as an action. Generates bright light out to 30ft, dim light for 30 more ft, for 6 hours. Price: 2gp/stick.

Air Gum: “Made with air freshly picked from your local wind farm.” Crunchy gum that provides 1 minute of breathable air so long as it’s chewed. The chewer cannot speak or open their mouth during this time, though, or the air escapes and the gum becomes useless. A package of air gum has 4 pieces. Price: 50gp/package.

Rope Gum: “Fun to chew if you hate having teeth.” A fingernail-sized pellet that, when vigorously rubbed between the hands for 1 round, explodes into 30ft of soft and spongy but durable rope. In all respects it is a 30ft coil of hempen rope. Dissolves into nothingness after 8 hours. Also comes in a 60ft, 90ft, and 120ft coil version. Price: 5gp/pellet, +5gp per size increase.

Mending Glue: “The quicker fixer-upper.” This small squeeze bottle is essentially a Wand of Mending with 6 charges, and takes 4 rounds to apply a charge. Price: 20gp/bottle.

Impact Gel: “Forgot to prepare Feather Fall again, eh?” A flask of milky white liquid that works itself into a froth within an instant of being exposed to air, forming a thick mass of impact-resistant foam that spreads into a wide mat. The mat is a 10ft square. Anything landing on the fluff reduces the damage they take from their fall by 15 or by half, whichever is more. Yes, you can throw it at the ground just before hitting it. Price: 30gp/flask.

Tindertwig: “Faster than flint, less cool than a magnifying glass.” They’re literally easy-strike matches. A box of tindertwigs contains 10. Price: 1gp/box.

Snuff Powder: “Like an off switch for fire.” A sack of brown powder that can be thrown into a fire to immediately snuff it. The sack instantly puts out all fire in a 10ft square when thrown as an action. Price: 30gp/sack.

Slurp Powder: “Like an off switch for water.” A sack of blue powder that can be used to clear out water and other dangerous liquids. When thrown into a liquid as an action, the powder instantly removes a 5ft cube of it, compacting all of it into a single pellet about as big around as a golf ball. If this pellet is smashed against a hard surface, all the absorbed liquid comes spraying out at once. Price: 50gp/sack.

Shush Oil: “I heard you coming from a mile away in that platemail. Have I got an item for you...” A beaker of slick, silver oil. Applying this to one’s armor takes 10 minutes, but allows the wearer to make Stealth checks without disadvantage for wearing clanky armor. Someone not wearing heavy armor can also coat the bottoms of their feet with it, granting them advantage on Stealth checks. Both uses last 8 hours. Price: 120gp/beaker.

Drow Drops: “Lets you see in the dark AND look 40% edgier in one go.” An eye-dropped filled with a pitch black fluid that turns your eyes entirely black. Grants the user Superior Darkvision (60ft) but afflicts them with Sunlight Sensitivity for 6 hours. Can be washed out with water and 1 minute of work. Price: 60gp/dropper.

Smokestick: “Portable cover. Makes you look really cool if you stick it in your mouth.” A finger-length brown stick that can be activated as an action, creating a thick smoke cloud in the user’s space, rendering them heavily obscured. Can also be thrown up to 15ft to cloud another space. Smokestick billows smoke for 4 rounds, then is used up. Smoke lingers for only 1 round. Price: 20gp/stick.

Smogstick: “Don’t stick this in your mouth, I can’t sign another god damn waiver.” A foot-long pole of rough, waxy wood that explodes when struck or thrown against a solid surface, creating a 15ft cube of fog (as Fog Cloud) for 1 minute. Price: 60gp/stick.

Breatheright Rag: “If you can ignore the smell and feeling, it’ll save your life.” Oily, bitter-smelling rags wrapped in wax paper. When pressed up to the face, it grants advantage on saves versus airborn poisons or diseases, vile odors, spores, lethal gasses, and other such annoyances. This operates against any particles or gasses in the air, from the spores of Yellow Mold to the mists of a Stinking Cloud. A Breatheright Rag lasts for 10 minutes before drying up and becoming useless. This timer starts the moment it is unwrapped, and it cannot be preserved. Price: 90gp/rag.

Super Sniffer Spritz: “Think of it like a whetstone for your nose.” A bottle of nasal spray that burns horribly when applied in a way you can never get used to. Blows your sinuses completely out--good for if you’re stuffed up! Grants you Keen Smell for 4 hours; you have advantage on Perception checks involving smells. A bottle has 2 uses in it. Price: 260gp/bottle.

Instant Coffee: “Sometimes you have to settle for poor quality. I’ve tried to make it taste good, at least.” A small paper tube containing gritty brown powder. Turns into a fine cup of coffee when added to warm water. A dose of this coffee allows someone to ignore 1 level of Exhaustion they have. Multiple doses do not stack, but they can be taken back-to-back to extend the effects. A package of Instant Coffee has 4 doses. Price: 5gp/package.

Niche Stuff: “Don’t wanna bloat the list any more than I have.” You need some really niche stuff? Deodorizer, reodorizer, allergen bombs, fertilizer, black powder, stink bombs, cleaning fluid, cool inks and dyes, The Stank, etc etc? Just ask and I’ll slap a price tag on it.

—————-

02: Weapons

—————-

Alchemist’s Acid: “The bread and butter of any good kit, really.” A flask of green fluid that boils dangerously when exposed to air. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d10 Acid damage on a direct hit. Can also be poured on an unattended, unmoving object to deal 10 Acid damage to it. Price: 10gp/flask.

Alchemist’s Fire: “Same bread, fancier butter.” A flask of red fluid that ignites on contact with air. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d4 Fire damage and setting the poor fool on fire. They take 1d4 more Fire damage at the start of their turn, and can put themselves out by making a DC 10 Dexterity check. Price: 20gp/flask.

Alchemist’s Ice: “An acquired taste of bread and butter.” A flask of blue liquid that frosts over almost instantly on contact with air. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d8 Cold damage and reducing the victim’s movement speed by 10ft for 1 round. Can also be poured over water to instantly freeze a 5ft surface that is stable enough to stand on. Price: 40ft/flask.

Alchemist’s Lightning: “Toast and butter.” A flask of white liquid that sparks and arcs like one of those cool lightning globe things. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d8 Electricity damage and forcing the target to make a DC 10 Constitution save or be knocked prone as they seize up. Price: 50gp/flask.

Alchemist’s Thunder: “Hey, put your ear to this really quick.” An opaque clay jar filled with two sloshing liquids that mix explosively when the jar is broken. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d8 Thunder damage and forcing the target and everyone adjacent to them to make a DC 10 Constitution save or be rendered deaf for 1 round. Price: 40gp/jar.

Alchemist’s Hunger: “Had to simplify the name because no one knows what necrotizing fasciitis is yet.” A flask of unpleasant-looking red muck that houses an aggressive, flesh-eating agent. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 1d10+5 Necrotic damage on a hit. Price: 30gp/flask.

Mox’s Malice Flask: “Need something both dead and gone? Good news...” A larger flask of roiling green fluid that sounds like it’s giggling as it boils. Can be thrown as an action at anything up to 20ft away, dealing 3d10 Acid damage on a hit. Can be poured on an unattended, unmoving, nonmagical object to deal 30 Acid damage to it. Price: 80gp/flask.

Flash Pellet: “Make a quick getaway, or just open someone up for a good stabbing.” A small yellow pellet that can be thrown at a space within 40ft as an action. Creatures within and adjacent to the space hit must succeed a DC 12 Dexterity save or be blinded for 1 round. A creature cannot be blinded more than once per minute by a Flash Pellet. Price: 30gp/pellet.

Tangle Bag: “A throwable hug.” A brown sack filled with a snot-green, squirmy fluid. Can be thrown at any target within 30ft. On a successful hit, the bag bursts and turns into a sticky mess; the victim is Restrained until they make a DC 15 Strength check as an action to burst out of it, dissolve it with 1 gallon of alcohol, or wait 6 rounds, at which point it dissolves on its own. On a miss, the square it lands in becomes a sticky mess and is treated as difficult terrain. A creature entering the space for the first time or beginning their turn on it must make a DC 10 Dexterity saving throw or become grappled by the space (escape DC 15). The sticky patch fades after 6 rounds, releasing anything that hasn’t escaped. Price: 70gp/sack.

Stink Juice: “Made with my own sweat and tears. HAH just kidding; I don’t cry.” A vial of vile fluid that’s unbearably awful to smell. Can be thrown up to 20ft away as an action. Anyone hit by this gains the following flaw for 12 hours: “My horrific body odor makes it difficult for people to stand near me.” In addition, during that time, all creatures have advantage on Perception checks to smell/track the target. It can be washed off with 4 gallons of alcohol. Price: 30gp/flask.

—————-

03: Medicines

—————-

Antiplague: “Ipecac’s bigger, stronger, probably-been-in-jail-before brother.” EXTREMELY nasty-tasting fluid that gives advantage on saves to avoid becoming Diseased for 4 hours. If taken while you’re already Diseased, you instead make another saving throw against the effect with advantage. Price: 50gp/dose.

Antitoxin: “Ipecac’s smaller, scrappier, definitely-been-in-jail-before cousin.” Foul-tasting liquid that gives advantage on saves to avoid becoming Poisoned for 1 hour. If taken while you’re already Poisoned, you instead make another saving throw against the effect with advantage. Price: 50gp/dose.

Antifungal Agent: “For maximum fun, spray it on a Circle of Spores Druid.” A spray bottle filled with a dark yellow fluid. Can be spritzed as an action, instantly killing a 5ft patch of Brown Mold, Russet Mold, or Yellow Mold, and clearing a spritzed character of any fungal infection they may have going on (this includes the poisoning done by Yellow Mold). Against fungal creatures (such as Violet Fungi or Vegepygmies), they take 4d10 Necrotic damage from being sprayed, a DC 12 Constitution save halving it. One bottle has four spritzes in it. Price: 200gp/bottle.

Liquid Courage: “It’s mostly alcohol. Like 60%.” Tastes and looks like pure alcohol. Choking it down immediately ends the Frightened condition on you, and makes you immune to being Frightened for 1 hour. Price: 150gp/bottle.

Benevolent Bandages: "Little slimy but it’ll glue those cuts shut like nothing else.” Bandages soaked in a leafy green fluid and kept in a tin. When applied to one’s wounds during a short rest, one Hit Dice you spend during the rest heals for its maximum amount. Multiple “charges” of the bandages can be applied during the same rest to maximize multiple expended Hit Dice. One tin of Benevolent Bandages contains 4 charges. Price: 180gp/tin.

Soul Gum: “I promise it’s not made with real souls.” A pickle-flavored gumball the size of an infant’s fist. When chewed for 10 minutes, this gum undoes 20 points of permanent HP reduction (such as from disease, undead attacks, or necromantic spells). It’s impossible to speak clearly while the gum wad is in your mouth, and thus verbal spells cannot be used; it takes 1 full round to pull the thing from your mouth, and it immediately becomes useless if removed before the 10 minutes are up. Price: 300gp/gumball.

Naptime Needle: “Your express ticket to dreamland.” An epipen-like device filled with misty blue fluid. When injected into a willing target, they immediately fall asleep for 10 minutes. They can be awoken by taking damage or by being shaken, but if they stay asleep for the full 10 minutes, they’re treated as having taken a short rest. A character cannot benefit from another Naptime Needle until they complete a long rest. Price: 360gp/dose

Naptime Needle DX: “AHBUP-BUP-BUP, ONE per customer, per adventuring party. If news gets out I can make these I’m gonna be ordered to never STOP making them.” An epipen-like device filled with a navy blue liquid. When injected into a willing target, they immediately fall asleep for 2 hours. They can be awoken by taking damage or by being shaken, but if they stay asleep for the full 2 hours, they’re treated as having taken a long rest. A character can only benefit from a Naptime Needle DX once every 7 days. Mox does not advertise that she sells these; currently, only the headmasters and Poppy know they exist. Price: 2600gp/dose

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04: Potions & Poisons

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Potion of Healing: “Come get y’all’s juice.” 2d4+2 HP on drank. Price: 50gp.

Greater Healing Potion: “Extra juice for you, and you, and you...” 4d4+4 HP, mmm-mmm creamy. Price: 150gp.

Superior Healing Potion: “Might as well get your blood replaced with the stuff at this point.” 8d4+8 HP, and ooh it’s vanilla-flavored! Price: 500gp

Supreme Healing Potion: “The most mold for your gold.” ... mold? Anyway, restores a whopping 10d4+20 HP on a sip. Price: 1500gp.

Perfect Healing Potion: “No one can make one better than me.” She doesn’t actually make these, as all of the ingredients are illegal. It won’t stop her from advertising it, though, just in case. Apparently restores the drinker to full HP and gives them 30 temporary HP.

Potion of Climbing: “AKA Monkey Juice.” A gritty gray liquid that grants its drinker a climb speed equal to their walking speed and advantage on Athletics (Strength) made to climb or stay stable while climbing. Its benefits last for 1 hour. Price: 30gp.

Potions of Resistance: “A big rainbow of ‘don’t touch me.’“ One potion for each element (Fire, Cold, Electricity, Acid, Thunder, Force, Psychic, Necrotic, and Radiant) that grants you Resistance to that element for 1 hour when drank. Price: 250gp/each.

Steelskin Sip: “You’ll feel INVINCIBLE! You aren’t, but you’ll feel like it.” Looks like solid steel while sitting in the bottle until you shake it. Drinking it causes your entire body to become metallic, granting you Resistance to physical damage for 1 hour. Price: 250gp.

Potion of Animal Friendship: “This is no excuse to skimp out on your Ranger training.” Drinking this allows you to cast Animal Friendship (DC 13) at will for one hour. Price: 150gp.

Embiggening Elixir: “Live as the giants do.” Causes the drinker to Enlarge for 1d4 hours. No concentration is required. Sold in a comically tiny bottle. Price: 270gp.

Shrinking Shot: “Live as the mice do.” Causes the drinker to Reduce for 1d4 hours. No concentration is required. Sold in an unnecessarily large bottle. Price: 270gp.

Potion of Water Breathing: “Live as the fish do.” Allows the drinker to breathe underwater for 1 hour. Causes them to sprout gills on their throat and sides. The bubbles in the potion look like fish. Price: 150gp.

Joy Juice: “This’ll fix just about anything but your wounds.” A bubbly, happy, golden drink that makes everything feel like it’s going to be okay. Cures all diseases and removes the Blinded, Deafened, Paralyzed, and Poisoned conditions. Price: 300gp.

Fog Bottle: “Why just put your HEAD in the clouds?” For 1 hour after drinking, your body dissolves into fog as if you were using the Gaseous Form spell. No concentration is required. You can end the effect as a bonus action. Price: 260gp.

Potion of Heroism: “Liquid Courage, now alcohol-free!” A shining white-silver fluid that makes you feel like you can do anything (and is still mildly alcoholic). You gain 10 temporary HP for 1 hour. In addition, you add +1d4 to every attack roll and saving throw you make for 1 hour. Price: 300gp.

Iron-Fist Elixir: “Lets you use a steel girder as a punching bag.” This heavy fluid causes all of your unarmed attacks to deal +3 damage for 1 hour. Price: 500gp.

Potion of Mind Reading: “Don’t tell the guildmasters I still sell this.” Drinking this potion grants you the Detect Thoughts spell, though its minute-long duration can be interrupted with damage as though you were concentrating on it. Price: 300gp.

Potion of Flying: “Watch for low-hanging ceilings and monsters.” Sold in a bottle with a pair of wings that floats an inch off the ground if not held. Grants you a fly speed equal to you walking speed for 1 hour. When it wears off, you fall unless you have some means of staying up. Price: 1100gp.

Invisibility Potion: “The bottle is also invisible.” The bottle is also invisible, but you can still feel it. Makes you and everything you’re wearing or carrying invisible for 1 hour. Ends if you attack or cast a spell. Price: 900gp.

Muscle Mix: “Sun’s out, guns out!” For 1 hour after drinking, your Strength score is treated as 21. Remember to write down your old Str score for when it wears off! Sold in a bottle decorated by a flexing arm. Price: 200gp.

Muscle Mix X: “Perfect for lifting the couch to clean under it.” For 1 hour after drinking, your Strength score is treated as 25. Sold in a bottle decorated with two flexing arms. Price: 400gp.

Muscle Mix DX: “Perfect for lifting the room to clean under it.” For 1 hour after drinking this, your Strength score is treated as 27. Sold in a bottle decorated by two flexing arms; the muscles on the left arm are also flexing. Price: 1000gp.

Muscle Mix EX: “Could the gods create a rock so big that they couldn’t lift it? Yes, and then you’d lift it.” For 1 hour after drinking this, your Strength score is treated as 29. Sold in a bottle decorated by two flexing arms; the muscles on both arms are also flexing. Price: 2400gp.

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05: WONDROUS ITEMS

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Perfume of Bewitching: “BLERFUGH THAT’S WORSE THAN THE STINK JUICE” You can use an action to spritz yourself with this pink perfume, the scent lingering for 1 hour after. While it lingers, you have advantage on all Charisma checks made against Humanoids with a CR of 1 or lower. No one exposed to its effects becomes aware they’re being mystically manipulated. Each bottle has 3 spritzes. Price: 120gp.

Alchemy Jug: “My faaaavorite...” A huge ceramic jug filled with a multitude of magical fluid that can become a whole bunch of different fluids, such as oil, water, beer, and mayonnaise. Just read this. Price: 350gp.

Dust of Disappearance: “Where’d you go?! just kidding! I can always see you.” Fine sand kept in a paper package. When the dust is thrown into the air as an action, you and everything within 10ft of you becomes invisible for 2d4 minutes. Attacking or casting a spell ends the invisibility for that creature. Price: 380gp/package.

Thousand-Face Elixir: “Cup of Doppleganger blood, bit of Mimic spit, pinch of salt and a dash of pepper-pepper-pepper...” The bottle is decorated with several dozen faces belonging to different races. Gives the user the effects of the Alter Self spell for 1 hour, no concentration required. Price: 700gp.

Salamander Sauce: “Proudly made with real salamanders! The monster, not the animal.” One bottle of this spicy, red fluid contains two doses. By drinking one dose, you gain Resistance to Cold damage for 8 hours. If you drink both doses, you become immune to Cold damage but vulnerable to Fire damage for 8 hours. If you consume three or more doses before taking a long rest, you must succeed a DC 14 Constitution save with every dose, or gain a level of Exhaustion. Price: 500gp.

Subzero Sauce: “For those days where everything is on fire.” Reversed version of Salamander Sauce; grants Resistance or immunity to Fire but causes Cold vulnerability. Price: 500gp.

Philter of Love: “You’re making a mistake.” Mox sabotages all her Philters so their effects end 1 round after they begin and makes the drinker aware of what they had drank. There will be no creepy love potions in this city! There is no way for an observer to realize that the Philter has been sabotaged. Price: 500gp/bottle.

Oil of Slipperiness: “Don’t tell me what you use this for, please.” An extremely slick orange gloop kept in a glass bottle that can be smeared on a Medium creature over the course of 10 minutes (it takes one more dose per size category to cover critters larger than Medium). Any creature slathered in the Oil gains the effects of the Freedom of Movement spell for 8 hours. Alternately, you can hurl it at the ground to cover a 10ft square with the Grease spell for 8 hours. Price: 1600gp/dose.

Oil of Sharpness: “Only shake this if you don’t want your hands.” A metallic, slick oil that seems to have tiny knives floating in it. This oil can coat one slashing or piercing weapon, or 5 pieces of slashing or piercing ammunition. This oil takes 1 minute to apply but lasts for 1 hour. Weapons coated are treated as magical and have a +3 bonus to attack and damage rolls. Price: 999gp/dose.

Dark Brew: “Now this is coffee.” A stone cup of black coffee that’s always warm. Grants the drinker the benefits of the Haste spell for 1 minute (no concentration required), including the crash when it ends. Price: 2000gp/cup.

Bottled Vitality: “A nip of life’s essence to restore your own.” A red liquid that dances in its bottle, pulsing as though it had a heartbeat. Cures all Exhaustion and removes Poisoned and Disease. For 24 hours after drinking, you regain maximum HP per hit dice you spend during a rest. Price: 2100gp.

Nearly-Universal Solvent: “It could melt everything in the universe if our universe was made of glue and wood.” A milky white fluid contained inside an polished stone container. One dose of Universal Solvent dissolves 10 square feet of adhesives (webbing, Tanglefoot Bags, Sovereign Glue, etc) and rids the square of any substance that’s countered by alcohol or Acid damage. It does 1 point of Acid damage to any flesh it touches and deals no damage to stone or glass, but deals 35 Acid damage to everything else. A dose lingers for only 1 round before dissolving entirely. Mox does not advertise that she sells this, though the guildmasters know. Price: 2800gp/container.

Slap Belt: “Look, look, no--no really, look, you can barely see OR feel the needle--” A semi-magical belt with two little bubbles on the side that can be filled with potions (or any magical liquid, really; yes this includes the coffee). Each holds one dose and takes 1 minute to fill up properly. These bubbles allow the potions within to be used on the wearer as a bonus action, by pressing down on them and injecting the potions directly. Price: 1500gp/belt.

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06: THE TOP SHELF

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You’re not gonna get these with money. These things are so powerful and so dangerous that she not only doesn’t advertise she sells them (aside from one bottle of Sovereign Glue she keeps as decoration), but they’re impossible to buy. Their Price is universally “One Plot Coupon,” meaning only permission from a DM can get you one.

EXTREMELY Heavy Duty Cleaning Solution: “If this can’t get the stain out, it can’t be gotten out.” The purest acid that a mortal can create that’s still safe to handle. A spray of this substance can arc up to 30ft away and causes everyone and everything within a 10ft cube to take 8d10+30 Acid damage, which can be halved on a successful DC 15 Dexterity saving throw. Creatures killed by this blast are entirely melted. Immediately eliminates all forms of terrain hazard and difficult terrain by smoothing out the affected ground (though at the DMs discretion, the sudden erasure of terrain may cause more problems) and destroys dead bodies caught in the area. Has no effect on metal or magical items but will give them a very thorough polishing. One container of EHDCS contains 4 sprays. A creature carrying the container and spraying module for the EHDCS has disadvantage on Dexterity checks and saving throws, and it can only be fired when worn.

Mox’s Marvelous Pigments: “Don’t like the world? Paint a new one.” Just read this b/c jesus christ.

Oil of Etherealness: “One bottle of dissociation, coming right up!” This misty fluid evaporates quickly when exposed to the air. Applying this Oil takes 10 minutes, and one dose can cover a Medium creature (+1 dose is required for every size category above Medium), and grants the user the benefits of the Etherealness spell for 1 hour.

Sovereign Glue: “This stuff can glue Trinity City to the ground. Permanently.” One squirt of Sovereign Glue can cover 1 square foot of space, and takes 1 minute to set. Once set, nothing can break the bond except for Universal Solvent, EHDCS, or Wish. A bottle contains 4 squirts.

Adamantine Admixture: “You’ll feel invincible and actually be invincible.” Grants the drinker immunity to all forms of damage for 1 minute.

Muscle Mix MAX: “Carry the world on your shoulders.” For 24 hours, you become Huge if you’re not already larger. Your Strength score becomes 29 if it’s not already higher, your hit point maximum is doubled (your current HP is also doubled), and your melee reach increases by 5ft. Everything you’re carrying is similarly enlarged; when you roll for damage with a weapon attack, roll three times the normal dice (3d8 for a longsword, 6d6 for a greatsword, 3d12 for a greataxe, etc). When the effect ends, any HP you have that’s over your maximum become temporary HP.

Truly Universal Solvent: “Yes, I can make it. No, I won’t. ... Why? I’ll tell you why:” A truly universal solvent cannot be contained in anything. Any dose she creates immediately burns through everything it’s held in, and dissolves into caustic gas (as Cloudkill cast at 9th level) after 1 round. Just settle for the lesser versions.

Vital Vitality: “Eternal life, in my hands.” When combined with even a fraction of a dead body (even a single finger or toe will do), one of Mox’s briny boilers, and 7 days of patient waiting, it imitates True Resurrection for the dead fool.

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07: THE BARGAIN BIN

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A whole bunch of fun stuff Mox makes to kill time. It has no real in-combat or in-adventure use aside from providing flavor to an adventure.

Mox’s On-The-March Meals: “For the adventurers with no time to camp.” Small pills of compacted sour-smelling powder kept in a leather bag. Reconstitutes itself into a nutritious but bland mush in vaguely recognizable shapes (such as cabbage heads, bread loaves, steak cuts, etc) when exposed to moisture. Pills can be swallowed directly to have them reconstitute in the stomach and avoid the taste altogether. Eating more than one at a time is not recommended. Each package contains 10 meals-worth of pills. Price: 2gp/package.

Polyhue Pill: “Taste the rainbow. Be the rainbow.” Eating this pill causes your skin to cycle through numerous bright colors, changing to a new one every minute. By concentrating as an action, you can ‘freeze’ the current color onto your body and maintain it so long as you remain concentrating on it, as though it were a spell. These effects last for 1 hour. Price: 1gp/pill.

The Sauce: “Live like a goblin for a short and glorious time.” A pretty pink squeeze bottle decorated by “THE SAUCE” written in cursive above a winking goblin’s face. A dose of the Sauce applied to anything will make it delicious enough to eat without a problem, even if the eater doesn’t normally like the food in question, or if the food is violently rotted, or is a substance entirely unsuited for consumption. It does not protect the eater from any consequences their meal may have. A bottle contains 10 doses. Price: 5gp/bottle.

Nighty-Night Knight Juice: “Turn even a moldy dungeon floor into a 5-star inn.” A tiny stone cup of sweet-smelling, sweet-tasting juice that’s just delightful to drink. When drank by a willing creature, they fall asleep for 8 hours and have pleasant, soothing dreams, no matter the conditions they’re sleeping in. Price: 5gp/cup.

Prank Powder: “What’s a little lighthearted poisoning among friends?” Itching powder, sneezing powder, tickling powder, p a i n d u s t, ‘that awful static-y feeling like when you fall asleep on your arm and wake up with it bloodless’ powder... If you want it to cause a Sensation, Mox has a powder that can cause it for a short time. No, it will have no real effect if you throw it on someone during combat, but you can dumb it on your guildmate’s heads. Each pack contains two doses of powder. Price: 1gp/pack.

Chilly Cream: “Not ‘chili’ cream; that’s different, and also the opposite.” Supercharge aloe vera that can heal sunburn immediately after being applied. Also acts as sunscreen, protecting the wearer from sunburns for 4 hours. A single tin has 4 doses, and 1 dose can cover a Medium creature. Price: 15gp/tin.

Chili Cream: “Not ‘chilly’ cream; that’s different, and also the opposite.” Supercharged... mysterious gel that soothes strained muscles and cramps. Provides peaceful warmth for its wearer for 4 hours. A single tin has 4 doses, and 1 dose can cover a Medium creature. Price: 15gp/tin.

The Morning Kiss: “I could buy an island with how much of this stuff I sell.” This golden pill becomes a fizzy, amber drink when dropped into water. Drinking this fluid cures hangovers of any intensity over the course of 10 minutes. Price: 3gp/pill.

Glowing Ink: “If you want to read in the dark.” Exactly what it says on the tin. Anything written in this ink glows softly and can be read even in complete darkness. The glow lasts forever. One vial can typically pen 10 pages of writing. Price: 1gp/vial.

Invisible Ink: “If you don’t want to read.” Anything written in this ink vanishes after 1 minute. The ink can be revealed by exposing it to a trigger, such as heat or a specific liquid (such as water or vinegar). You can pick the trigger, but it must be something simple. One vial can typically pen 10 pages of writing. Price: 5gp/vial.

Custom Invisible Ink: “If you don’t want anyone else to read, ever.” Anything written in this ink vanishes after 1 minute. The ink can be revealed with a very specific trigger you set, such as a specific flavor of wine or juice, water from a particular source, or the blood of a specific person. One vial can typically pen 5 pages of writing. Price: 30gp/vial.

Marker Dye: “Scientifically formulated to stain every conceivable surface and most inconceivable ones.” A dye that comes in multiple colors. Stains or marks from this dye are impossible to remove without water from the Elemental Plane of Water, which can be obtained via portal or by casting any spell which creates water in a slot of 5th level or higher. Loses its resilience after 1 year, at which point it can be scrubbed away like any mundane ink. If applied to skin, fades away after only 1 month. One dose can cover 1ft of surface, and a vial has 4 doses. Price: 40gp/vial.

Rust Dust: “Ever want to see a Fighter flip his shit?” This rusty red powder comes in a paper tube. Sprinkling it over any Huge or smaller item made of metal--regardless of whether or not it’s ferrous--causes a coating of rust to form over its entire surface. The “rust” is a harmless fungus that has no impact on the item’s function and can be washed off with a bit of work. The fungus dissolves after 1d3 days. Price: 10gp/tube.

Pleasant Pill: “I’m not legally allowed to comment on this item.” A pleasantly pink pill that tastes like pork. Taking it amplifies your tactile senses for around 8 hours, not enough to give you a mechanical bonus, but enough to make Certain Activities far more enjoyable. Sold in pairs. Price: 6gp/pair.

Fireworks: “I like to think myself above such petty goblin instincts but me like when thing go boom.” They’re fireworks! Get ‘em in any design you want. She can even make them spell things out, but that costs extra. Price: <1gp for most, but 25gp for a message of 25 or less letters.

Creams and Oils: “I got a cure for everything that ails ya.” Mox has a cream and oil for pretty much every situation. Growing hair, removing hair, stopping itching, starting itching, hiding scars, emphasizing them, stopping your coughing and sneezing or making it worse... Anything without direct mechanical benefit, she’s probably got a cream or oil for. Price: Basically nothing unless you buy in bulk. Then it’s like 1, maybe 2 gold.

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GOLEMS, GRAFTS, AND OTHER SPECIALTIES

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The writing on this portion of the menu is effectively illegible. Its several pages that are heavily redacted; what isn’t redacted is covered by a dozen or so stickers, papers, and scrolls, the newest and largest reading “FORBIDDEN BY THE ORDER OF THE TRINITY CITY GUILDMASTERS” and signed by all three of them. The oldest is seemingly carved into a sheet of adamantine as thin as paper, and in glowing letters it reads “FORBIDDEN BY DECREES 22~36--SIGIL COUNCIL OF MORTAL DECENCY.”

She seems to be collecting the different signage.

0 notes

grapsandclaps · 6 years ago

Text

GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS - TIDAL CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING 'WIPEOUT 2019'

Hello and welcome once again to Graps and Claps, this time taking me on a short trip to Leeds for Tidal Championship Wrestling's 2nd show of the year and the first in Leeds in 2019 at The Temple of Boom. Setting off on the 415pm train drinking two cans of cheap Doombar which our Geoff bought from a reduced aisle section in Bury, we arrived into the Yorkshire Capital at 530pm making our way first to The Head of Steam for a pre-show pint.

With this being a Friday night, Leeds and in general this pub was very busy with people wanting to drown their sorrows after a hard working week. Here I only had the one pint which was a Wilde Child brewery 'Days of Wilde' Banoffee Stout (4.5%, £4.30), that was quite mourish in taste and possibly the pint of the night, despite it being at least a pound more than you would pay in similar establishments in Manchester.

Meeting up with Twitter and Grimsby Graps celeb Chris Wilson, we made our way to Whitelocks based on the main high street for one last drink, that being a pint of Ilkley Brewery 'Stout Mary' (3.8% £3.20) which wasn't the best pint lacking in taste mainly due to the weak volume. However, this is still a good pub to visit with a decent beer garden area if there isn't enough room to swing a cat inside.

Anyways drinks done, we entered the Temple just as the Pre-Show Grapple Wrestling matches had just finished, which had good reviews from the 30/40 who were there for that part of the show. With a crowd of around 100 in attendance packed into the small surroundings we were set fair for a great night's worth of action, so without further ado lets get into what went down!

First up was Leeds favourite Russian Boris Koslov taking on Grodd of the Crown of Thorns faction - who was greeted with the chant of 'he's got bird shit on his face' remarking about his face paint - it must have been one BIG bird with a bad case of the shits tbh.

After being distracted by Grodd's team mates beforehand, Boris was attacked from behind but once he got into it we had some stiff strike action to start with till Grodd hits a clothesline. Koslov came back though wading away with punches until another clothesline from Grodd floors him. As the match went on we had a Russian Legdrop by Boris for a 2 count, a Uranage slam by grodd for 2 as the match reached its conclusion. Up top Boris tried and tried to hit a Superplex, but manages to hit it at the 3rd attempt of trying, with Grodd floored Boris locked in a Crossface but Grodd manages to escape Koslov's clutches leaving Boris frustrated at a standing base, which led to Grodd walloping Boris with a hard lariat to get the three count to end a good hard-hitting match up - Grodd has really improved as a wrestler over the last year.

Sean Only came out to demand that Tidal management give him a chance at the big Tidal title, which it sermed noticeable that Ian (Tidal promoter) didn't want to hear this as he stood by the door entrance.

Up next it was a battle of the youngsters as perennial rivals JJ Barker took on Joe Nelson in what was to be a fantastic high flying battle on paper. Early stages we had Nelson hitting a high crossbody followed up by a moonsault to get a two count! Barker came back himself as he hit a big running boot, an Enziguri to floor Joe as JJ locked in a sleeper hold, but thankfully for Nelson he managed to recover.

Lots of action as we moved in the latter stages of the match up as both wrestlers hit a Double enziguri to knock each other out cold! Back at a standing base, Joe hit a DVD and kick to barker to get a two count, JJ followed up with michinoku driver for a 2, then a DDT for 2. JJ however tried to follow up with a moonsault press but missed, leading to Joe Nelson to hit a Tornado DDT to get the three in an excellent match, this show was certainly hitting all of the right notes at this point.

TCW Openweight Title next with the Champion Roxxy taking on Kanji who was making her debut in a Tidal ring, but she has been making a name for herself namely in Defiant wrestling. Early on we had a submission locked in by Kanji, which Roxxy escaped from. This was followed up by an array of roll uo spots that led to many counts of 1, which tired out poor referee Cowboy One, oh!! I mean Cowboy John.

Roxxy was on top after thus hitting both a roundhouse kick and a crossbody to get two counts, with both women giving there all they come to a crash as they hit a double clothesline to floor each other. With both eventually getting back up, Kanji hit a 6-1-KANJI to Roxxy followed up with a dropkick. Roxxy came roaring back though as she hit a double stomp to Kanji before locking in a neck and arm submission to leave Kanji scrambling for the ropes.

Kanji though fired back with a diving clothesline and Sex-Pinning Roxxy for a two, she then tried to hit a moonsault to Roxxy but missed as Roxxy hit a roll-through bomb and then locked in a neck submission to Kanji to make her tapout to retain the TCW Open Title in a fine match - hopefully we get to see more of Kanji in Tidal in the future.

Tag action next with two teams ready to stake a claim for future tag title shots with The Crown of Thorns (B.A Rose and Will Kroos) vs Crashboat (Pop Punk Kid and Jack Bandicoot). As per with the tag division in Tidal this was another fine match with Kroos especially proving to be a great base for the high flying Crashboat! Crashboat early on utilised this as they hit big dives to The Thorns on the outside however, The Thorns got back in control as they beat down there much smaller opponents.

Crashboat fought back as Bandicoot hit a schoolboy dropkick to Kroos and then followed up with a moonsault to Kroos to get a 2 count. Kroos and Rose recovered from this as they they laid a beating to Jake Silver hitting a BIG suplex to him, Silver managed to wriggle free hitting a dropkick to Rose as he made the hot tag to Bandicoot who came in to clean house including a elevated ddt to get a 2 count.

Unfortunately though for Crashboat, the joy ended there as B.A Rose not long after this finished off Jake Silver with a Jay Driller to get the three count to chalk up another one in the win column on this evening for The Crown of Thorns.

Break time over with, with people sampling the vegan burgers and chicken wraps on offer that were going down a treat so much that they had sold out, leaving people left just eating chips, whilst washing it down with £2.50 cans of beer. It is to be noted that the venue now has two bars with an extra one inside the building where the wrestling is, meaning no one has to leave the action unless they want a piss!

Returning with TCW Women's title action with the Champion, Rhio in her new Cadbury's Eclair inspired gear taking on Chakara for whom Rhio has beaten on three occassions previously. Chakara early on had the upper hand as she hit a bug headbutt followed up with double knees to get a two count. As the match went on though, it looked like Chakara would pick up the victory as she hit a powerbomb to Rhio to get a two count, this led though to The Crown of Thorns making an appearance to lay out Chakara and removing Rhio to the back to save her and her title as Cowboy John counted out Rhio to give Chakara the countout victory - BOOOO!!! Chakara it has to be said is really improving as a character and as a wrestler - good presence and poise about her.

Up next it was a clash between Plant Pot and professional Turnip Sniffer Josef Kafka taking on H.T Drake, now with Kafka having seen him twice before I didn't hold out much hope, but my god I was proven wrong! Drake got the early advantage as he waffled Kafka with a clothesline and a BIG knee that killed Kafka but not enough for a 2 count. Kafka came vack though hitting a neckbreaker, followed by a senton splash for 2, only to then lock in a submission which Drake managed to escape from.

Once out Drake finally put away Kafka with a Lungblower to get the three count in just over 11 minutes to end a surprisingly good match - More Josef Kafka please barman!!

Tag team title action next with Man Like Dereiss once again deputising for an injured Sebb Strife in The Lion Kings to team with Nsereko to defend the Tag Titles vs Never Say Die (Alex Cupid and Dylan D'Angelo). Before we get into the match, I did laugh at a tweet Progress honcho Jon Briley put out the other week commenting about one of NSD to if they actually still wrestle??? Ah Jon Briley stick to booking Progress and not tweeting - you absolute cockwomble!!

Anyways I digress, Dereiss was certainly on fire during this match as he dit a dropkick to D'Angelo and then followed up with a Sentom splash to get a two count. Dereiss hit a short dropkick, only to then be stopped in his tracks as NSD went into a prolonged beatdown of the up and comer. Dereiss however, eventually got the big tag to Nsereko to clean house but the Ugandan was hit with a BIG elevated lung blower by NSD to get a 2 count.

With the match reaching its climax though and with Cowboy John on the deck, out came The Crown of Thorns to cause havoc as they battered both teams but eventually caused more damage to Nsereko and Dereiss and D'Angelo got the winning pin to capture the TCW Tag Titles in a really good match one that was packed full of drama and storyline progression - The Crown of Thorns looked very strong on this evening!!

With the time coming up to 945pm, we had your main event of Ben Corrigan's favourite Chuck Mambo taking on our boy snd TCW Champion Sugar Dunkerton. Now sadly I didn't get to see the conclusion of this match due to having to run for the train, what I did see was 10 minutes packed full of comedy with the happy go lucky Mambo and Sugar not going too hard on each other.

One special spot was Mambo of all things hanging off of the lights ala what Jack Bandicoot does and in turn hanging up there for 30 seconds. From reports though, this match continued in the same fun vein of things as Sugar pinned Mambo after a number of reversals to retain the TCW Title to continue what has been a highly successful run. However, a collision course in the future looks to be on between Sugar and one Rampage Brown - OH MY!!!

Arriving back in Rochdale for 1130pm, me and Geoff walked back to my house putting the world to rights about Brexit and continuing the conversation back home whilst eating a Morrison's Mighty Meat pizza that set off the smoke alarm, during us watching PCW Festive Fury 2012 before we went to bed.

In closing, Tidal once again put on a fantastic show that maybe didn't look that great on paper but live it turned into a belter. Tidal and myself next week go on tour to London on March 3rd for their return to the nation's capital after some time away - Go and check them out as it is set to be an authentic Tidal show with many of the northern mob making the trip down - you won't be disappointed!!!

As ever give this a share on all social media platforms using the below hashtag, so until the next time - BYE!!!

#grapsandclaps

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ask-the-richmond-newsies · 8 years ago

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Hello and welcome to my blog! I’d like to introduce you to the gang!

*Disclaimer: I only follow a handful of newsies ask blogs, so if one of my characters has the same nickname as yours or any other similarities, it is merely a coincidence!

***Potential Triggers Warning! There are some death, abuse, alcoholism, racism, suicide, and attempted murder related trigger warnings in some of the backstories below***

—————– Newsie name: Chickadee Reason for name: She pretended to be a boy for the first six years because the lodging house only allowed boys to stay there. But the other newsies knew she was a girl. So, they named her Chickadee “‘cause she’s a chick.” But if anyone asked why, it was because “'he’ has a beautiful singing voice, like a bird.” Real name: Elizabeth Sanford Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: fun-loving, scrappy, sarcastic, guarded, flirtatious, loyal, compassionate, will do what it takes to survive, has trust issues, and is still dealing with a great amount of grief Hobbies: whittling, flirting, singing, and watching sunrises Background: Her mother died in childbirth along with the baby when she was four. Her father died in an accident at the lumber mill where he worked when she was six. Her older brother Sal was all she had left. He got them both jobs as newsies so that he could keep an eye on her and so she didn’t have to work at a factory like a lot of other little orphan girls. When she was thirteen, her brother got a well-paying job and was going to move them into a small apartment and send her to school, but he caught pneumonia before he could. His death all but destroyed her. She became shut off and never let anyone help her. She never truly dealt with her grief. Shortly after his death, she left Richmond and began selling papes in other boroughs, never staying anywhere for too long. She learned how to survive on her own and convinced herself that she’s better off that way. She did, however, run into her old friends at the strike rally after not seeing them for about three years and will now occasionally visit the newsboys of Richmond.

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Newsie name: Fox Reason for name: he is sly and quick-witted like a fox Real name: Finley O'Connor Age: 17 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: confident, ambitious, sneaky, smart, determined, understanding, strategic, protective, flirty, and has issues with the concept of love Hobbies: flirting, poker, pulling pranks, and making out. He is the leader of the newsies. Background: When he was 7 years old, his parents and him immigrated to New York from Ireland. When he was 8 his mother was killed in a hate-crime. About a month later his grief-stricken father killed himself. When he came home from school that day, a neighbor told him what had happened and took him in for a little while. He soon thereafter found himself amongst the newsies. He was angry and confused and he hated that his father basically abandoned him. He doesn’t like the concept of love because he blames the love his father had for his mother for destroying what was left of his family. In his mind, being Irish made him motherless, but love made him an orphan.

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Newsie name: Duke Reason for name: he’s always getting into fights and is always ready to duke it out Real name: Daniel Carleton Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: angry, insecure, sarcastic, always on the defensive, doesn’t know how to express himself, has a short temper, fiercely protective of those he loves Hobbies: boxing, darts, and gardening Background: He was the bastard son of a single mother who hated him. She always blamed him for her life of destitution. She verbally abused him for years and sometimes even locked him in a closet for hours when she “needed some me time” and didn’t want to deal with him. Her words always stayed with him which is way he’s always so quick to assume the worst in everybody. He eventually just had enough and ran away and became a newsie. He sometimes struggles with the guilt of leaving her to fend for herself but remembers that he had to do what was best for himself and get out.

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Newsie name: James Reason for name: He doesn’t like nicknames, he prefers “the name his parents gave him” (If he would have allowed a nickname, his friends would have called him Strings) Real name: James Emerson Age: 17 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: quiet, observant, judgmental, soft spoken, has a dry humor, thinks he’s more mature than he actually is, pretentious, bitter, actually kind of a romantic Hobbies: playing his old, beat-up violin, composing, people watching, reciting Shakespeare Background: He grew up in one of the richest families in Richmond and was given the best of everything. When his parents died in a boating accident when he was 14, he found out that the family’s financial adviser had been embezzling money from them for years, leaving his inheritance as practically nothing. He turned to family friends for support and comfort but once thy found out he had no money left, they turned their backs on him. Everything in his parents estate had to be sold and auctioned off to cover any remaining expenses or debts. Alone and destitute, he then joined the newsies to cover his cost of living.

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Newsie name: Sniffer Reason for name: he’s “part bloodhound” and can find anything Real name: “Gabriel” (( In modern au it’s Gabriel Hernandez)) Age: 16 Sexuality: Pan-romantic asexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: straightforward but not always forthcoming, he’s always honest but he doesn’t always tell you everything, he knows everything about everything, he always “knows a guy”, is a bit of a gossip, good at reading people, a realist, kind hearted but in a more subtle way, was raised Catholic but isn’t very religious anymore Hobbies: locating and procuring rare or desired items, poker, solving puzzles and riddles, helping others Background: When he was a baby, he was abandoned at a church-run orphanage. He was raised by the nuns and given the name Gabriel. He has no idea what his real name is or if he was even given one. When he was about ten, the orphanage burned down (with no injuries) and all the children had to be sent to other orphanages throughout the city. He didn’t want to go to another one, so he left and joined the newsies. The orphanage has since been rebuilt and he still sees the nuns whenever they feed the newsies or when he comes in for weekly confession.

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Newsie name: Monty Reason for name: n/a Real name: Montgomery Ellis Age: 17 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: laid back, funny, happy go lucky, will pretty much do anything on a dare/bet, has a big heart, and just like to have fun Hobbies: knitting, cooking, playing chess, playing with kids Background: He was raised by his great aunt Petunia after his father died from a lung infection and his mother died of influenza a few years after that. When his aunt got too old, she moved into an elderly retirement community. The only catch was that he was not allowed to live with her there. So, he got a job as a newsie and lives at the lodging house. He goes to visit her every Sunday afternoon.

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Newsie name: Mouth Reason for name: He never shuts up Real name: Isaiah Greenwood Age: 15 Sexuality: Questioning Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: loud, obnoxious, eccentric, reckless, competitive, sweet, aimless and a little self conscious Hobbies: playing marbles, playing horseshoes, playing checkers, basket weaving, and eating Background: He grew up on a farm outside of the city with fourteen brothers and sisters. When he felt he was old enough, he moved to the city and got a job to send money back to his family, like his older siblings had before him. He goes back to visit about once a month.

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Newsie name: Pockets Reason for name: If he likes something he will stick it in his pocket and take it home, usually innocent stuff like bottle caps and seashells, sometimes small trinkets from shops Real name: Randal Davis Age: 14 Sexuality: Bicurious Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: gets distracted easily, doesn’t think things through, likes shiny things, a little selfish, and sometimes self conscious and a little prone to anxiety Hobbies: collecting things, occasionally stealing, playing marbles, playing checkers, and playing with his kitten Amelia aka Patches Background: When he was younger his mom got really sick and they couldn’t afford her treatment. So, in desperation, his father tried to rob a bank in an attempt to save her life. Unfortunately, he was caught and is currently serving 10 to 12 in the pen. The judge, however, was very merciful and took pity and allowed him a supervised visit to his wife before she died. Pockets has been in the care of the newsies ever since. He gets to visit his dad in prison every couple of months. He got caught stealing himself about four months before the strike and got sent to the Refuge. He stayed there until Governor Roosevelt shut it down and freed him. He still occasionally gets nightmares about it.

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Newsie name: Poe Reason for name: he’s a writer and a poet like “that Edgar Allen Poe guy” Real name: Andrew “Andy” Reid Age: 15 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: sensitive, quiet, shy, kind, very creative and quick witted, can be quite sassy, a true romantic at heart Hobbies: writing, reading, playing with every dog that walks by, sewing, and secretly dancing Background: His father died from an unknown illness when was a toddler and he was raised by his loving mother. She had a very kind heart and a love for stories. She would read to him every night and allowed for his imagination to flourish. She worked as a seamstress and would often take him to sit in the back room of the dress shop as she worked. He learned how to sew while he was there, but most of the time he would sit and read. There was nothing particularly special about his time spent there, but looking back it was some of his favorite times spent with his mother. She eventually took ill and succumbed to the illness. He became homeless for a couple of months afterwards, but was soon found by one of the newsies and taken in by his new family.

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Newsie name: Stars Reason for name: he “has stars in his eyes” Real name: Michael Lee Age: 14 Sexuality: Pansexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: naïve, idealistic, foolish, optimistic, adventurous, always up for learning new things, believes you should live every day to the fullest Hobbies: reading, playing chess, bird watching, and exploring new places Background: His parents died of consumption when he was a baby and he was raised by his grandmother. He dropped out of school and became a Newsie to support them after she had a stroke. She died a few months later and he stayed a newsie. He always wished he could go back to school. And he also wishes that he had stayed more in touch with his heritage after she died.

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Newsie name: Skunk Reason for name: he’s smelly Real name: Richie Mason Age: 12 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: hyper, messy, excitable, slightly gullible, and can sleep anywhere Hobbies: playing pretend, chasing frogs and ducks, playing in mud, playing tag, Background: When he was six years old, his parents died in a factory fire along with his uncle and aunt. Him and his cousin, Robbie, were sent to live with their grandfather, who died about three years later due to old age. They soon found themselves living amongst the newsies, who treated them like little brothers and are raising them as their own.

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Newsie name: Squeaks Reason for name: He’s very ticklish and if you tickle him or poke him in the sides he’ll let out a loud squeak Real name: Robbie Mason Age: 10 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: adventures, curious, a little sarcastic, brave Hobbies: playing pirates, hiding in small spaces, climbing trees, playing tag Background: When he was four years old, his parents died in a factory fire along with his aunt and uncle. Him and his cousin, Richie, were sent to live with their grandfather, who died about three years later due to old age. They soon found themselves living amongst the newsies, who treated them like little brothers and are raising them as their own.

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Newsie name: Gills Reason for name: he practically lives in the ocean, can hold his breath for up to four minutes, and he can drink like a fish Real name: Jonathan Evans Age: 16 Sexuality: Pansexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: confident, kind, competitive, enjoys the little things in life, kind hearted, protective, thick skinned Hobbies: swimming, jogging, fishing, poker Background: When he was fairly young, his mother walked out on his father and him. His father did the best he could to raise him on his own. He worked two jobs, barely making enough to feed them both, all while hiding the struggling from his son. He didn’t have a lot of time to spend with him, but when he did, he usually took him down to the beach where they could do fun activities for free. When he was about twelve his father died of a heart attack, leading to him joining the newsies.

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Newsie name: Dixie Reason for name: She comes from the Deep South below the Mason-Dixon Line and is from the Alabama, aka the Heart of Dixie Real name: Darla Dickson Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: Sweet, hopeful, creative, and strong in her beliefs Hobbies: hike, fish, sew, sing, dance, play guitar, and used to go horseback riding Background: When she was still living in Alabama with her family, she had been secretly dating one of the boys who worked at the stables that her family kept their horse in. His name was Theodore and he was the sweetest thing. They dated in secret because he was a black boy in the deeply racist 19th century south. Her family owned slave lest than forty years prior, so she knew they would never approve. They kept telling themselves that nothing could happen between them because it was too dangerous, but their love for each other grew and they couldn’t stay away. So they kept their affair a secret for several months until her little sister saw her sneaking out one night and followed her. She caught her sister spying and made her swear never to tell. But the next day her little sister came to her crying and apologize profusely for accidentally telling. Dixie raced to the stables to find her father beating the crap out of Teddy and when she tried to stop him, he knocked her out with a single blow. When she came to, he was in the process of trying to hang Teddy in a nearby tree. She quickly found a shovel and knocked her father out. She helped Teddy out of the rope and stole the family horse. She rode with Teddy as far north as she could before stopping to find a doctor. She traded the horse for his services and when Teddy was almost fully recovered they hitched a ride in a wagon even further north. They then made a life with each other in a small apartment doing odd jobs. But neither one of them fully dealt with the horrors of that day and there was a great divide between them. Eventually, along with other smaller issues, they decided that they couldn’t do this anymore. As much as they tried, they couldn’t look at each other without seeing the scene replay in their heads. So they sat down and said their goodbyes. They promised that they would always love each other in some way and that they would keep in touch. Teddy moved to a small northern farming town and Dixie moved to Richmond where she became a newsie.

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Former Newsies

Newsie name: Tommy Reason for name: n/a Real name: Thomas Russo Age: 22 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: strong, confident, knows how to have a good time, knows when it’s time to be serious, funny, sweet, comforting, romantic, a proud Italian Hobbies: poker, playing pranks, dancing, cooking Background: He never knew what happened to his mother; it had always just been his dad and him. Most days he felt like he and his father reversed roles, as he was always taking care of his alcoholic father. He became a newsie at a young age as he had to provide for the both of them, his father being unable to work. He’d sell newspapers every morning and then every afternoon he would pick his father up at the pub and attempt to get him home without a fight. He grew tired of this way of living and was almost relieved every time his father went to jail (for various crimes). Through the years he rose up in rank until he became the leader of the Richmond newsies, a feat he was justly proud of. He has had less and less contact with his father throughout the years, he much prefers to focus on his true family, the newsies. After “retiring” from selling, he moved to Manhattan and began working at a bank and fell in love with a colleague’s daughter, who he is now engaged to.

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***He is not available to interact with, but I think it’s important that you get to know him because he was a big part of everyone’s lives.***

Newsie name: Ticker Reason for name: he carried around a pocket watch that ticked very loudly Real name: Sal Sanford Age: 19 at time of death Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: protective, intelligent, compassionate, valued honesty and integrity, stubborn, made terrible dad jokes, good with kids, got frustrated easily (mostly at inanimate objects that wouldn’t cooperate) Hobbies: reading, going on walks, chess, playing with and reading to the younger kids, Background: His mother died in childbirth along with the baby when he was ten. His father died in a lumber mill accident when he was twelve. All he had left was his little sister Lizzie, who he was now responsible for. He got them both jobs as newsies so that he could keep an eye on her and so she didn’t have to work at a factory like other little orphan girls. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt or worse like their father did. As they grew up, he strived to give her the most normal childhood that he could. He was both parent and teacher to her as well as brother. He adored her and would do anything to make sure she was strong, healthy, and happy. When he was 19, he got a well-paying job and was going to get them a small apartment and would finally be able to send her to school. Knowing that there was a better life ahead of them, he had been the happiest he had been in a long time. His dreams for the future were dashed, however, when he caught pneumonia and died surrounded by his loved ones.

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Others

Name: Emily Chapman Age: 22 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: Background:

Name: Caroline Chapman Age: 16 (almost 17) Sexuality: Bicurious Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: Background:

Name: Hunter Andrews Age: 18 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:

Name: Emma Andrews Age: 18 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:

Name: Elijah “Eli” Greenwood Age: 16 Sexuality: Questioning Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:

Name: Collette “Clover” Charron Age: 6 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:

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Extras

Mr. Albertson -aka Big Al, newspaper distribution person

The Terrible Trio - The Trio for short, consists of Clive Parker, Edmund Williams, and Antoine Edwards; entitled rich boys who like to dick with people for fun

Old Man Reggie - lodge house owner, very old, has thick glasses, is practically blind, can pretty much get anything by him; didn’t use to allow girls to live at the lodge, but changed his mind once he caught on that Chickadee was a girl and was already living there for years

Ms. Merriwhether - the local librarian, a very sweet old lady who is fond of Poe, one of her favorite bookworms

This post will be updated as the characters develop further through their interactions with you. :)

First Update: May 12th, 2018 (one year anniversary!)

#meet the gang #richmond newsies #long post #death mention tw #suicide tw #alcoholism tw #verbal abuse tw

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