#the sound cue thing was taken from how horror games make you focus on that

[sfarxuri]

Meet Patchwork! He is the final boss of my fanfic story CD Saga; he activates when CD Sfarx leaves the Centralis Eye Scanner in the simulation during one last brawl with his counterpart at the Orbital Ring after misuse over time during their brawls to make CD Sfarx more powerful. Patchwork awakens stuck in the simulation having a body but not the means to travel outside of the Simulation like how CD Sfarx does so he waits for him with his minions to comeback to the hidden base that links both the sim & real world together while also doing redecoration of said base. After coming back CD Sfarx is very angry at the sudden remix of his base & gets ambushed by Patchwork (something that CD does alot not liking the tables turned on him). His minions CD Oscuri & Sfarity try to help him but they are all out matched & in a last ditch effort CD Sfarx teleports all of them back outside the real world. Having to bite the bullet they all realize they need help from their counterparts to defeat Patchwork, who plans on continuing Clarity's plan of keeping GPAs & Formies into the simulation. Not liking the sound of this Sfarx, Oscuri, & Osarx agree to a truce but only because they want to stop Patchwork from achieving his goal. However they have to go through this new base to reach Patchwork, once they do they are ambushed & the fight officially starts for the team. During the boss fight Patchwork unlike most enemies WILL NOT GLOW AT ALL. Everyone has to pay attention to sound & visual cues to properly dodge/attack/parry him. If the Team's HP gets low then Patchwork will start to crack jokes & leave himself open, sometimes will be seen laughing in place. He's just like the other combat datas where if the counterpart is struggling then they taunt alot which is a hubris that Patchwork has. Theres 3 phases in total however, in the last one Patchwork will be more focused on CD Sfarx so he will ignore the rest of the party, thats because he wants to possess him to be reborn as a new being. One that can assimilate anyone in the real world while teleporting to the sim to take care of them in his "utopia" (pretty much same thing Clarity was doing but doing it with alot of goofying around/menacing feel to it). So the sooner he can weaken the copy the better since CD Sfarx killed Fark & Spark he gained control over the simulation but instead of carrying on what the Claritas wanted he uses the powers for his own to create a power up booster (that being the centralis eye) to mess with Sfarx Neo & kill whoever he wants on Luna much to Patchwork's disliking. The battle is very close, ultimately the one who lands the killing blow is CD Sfarx which was a huge mistake because he basically ends up destroying himself, data starts to scatter but CD Sfarx manages to latch on to Patchwork's before disappearing into the out of bounds area of the Simulation. Something that the heroes are unaware of until way later in the future when these two return merged as one.

[w21009869mi60213000]

References to mention

(this will include other horror games that show a particular example, to support my points, and other FNaF games that take the audio design further effect the gameplay of the game.)

Video: Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location - Part 5 by Markiplier on Youtube 9 Oct 2016 (notes taken from Mark's comments on a particular night)

Five Nights at Freddy's Sister Location - Full Game Walkthrough & Ending (No Commentary) Horror Game by Father on Youtube 11th Oct 2016 (for more clear audio reference 59:34 into the the video) - notes taken from observation

Auditory cues: In this night of the game, the player is in a hidden location on the map where the player has to do the opposite as the narrator to get there, to unlock a secret ending. This location, you transported back into a security office, just like the original games, but this time you are faced with one animatronic. By which auditory cues are the main factor into completing the night. The Animatronic, Ennard, can be traced by sound through three directions; left, right and centre. The sound he makes is a high pitched squeaking sound of grinding metal. If the sound plays once in the selected direction it means he is in that he is in that vicinity of the restaurant. If the sound played twice in that direction, that should be where the player's focus should be and ready to shut that doors at the correct moment in parallel with flipping the camera of that area to make sure he's there.

The auditory cues help the player gather information when and where and what to do in certain moments. Knowing that if he moves to one area, he may also come back to it. The player understanding that there is only danger when the same sound plays twice in one direction/are of the restaurant.

General Sound Design: Overall, in this office, a low mechanical drone rolls continuously throughout the night. Ranging from different notes along the way but are still repetitive to give an general ambience about the office. the one thing to note however, is that, it is not as in depth as the first games in terms of embedded audio overlapping each other to make a broader sense of setting, with more red herring sounds or sounds "painting" the set around the player. A fan still is visually present but no obvious fan sounds are heard, to distract the player nor make advantageous audio difficult to decipher. This on going drone is met harmoniously with music throughout the night: reverbed chimes, low and slowed strings of extending notes and tremolos, all with a distant echoing effect that gives a sense on eeriness.

Instead of embedded within the ambience, the red herring is placed as a familiar creepy female voice, talking to the player/character. This to purposefully throw off the gameplay as one you are distracted by a voice that you thought escaped from previously in the game, making the player confused to where the source is coming from seeing there was no sign of her animatronic body anywhere to later understand the voice was in fact coming from Ennard.

The same interactive audio as before can be heard, like the opening and closing of doors and vents, the flicker of lights, switching between monitors. All are played at an overwhelming loud volume, that could sound over the squeaks of Ennard.

Very faintly discernible whispers can be randomly heard, that sound more like tiny breathes because of how faint they are. But if the player did not know the strategy of the gameplay, they would think they indicated something.

[spencerreidismyonetruelove]

Stay With Me

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N is a member of the BAU team and Spencer’s girlfriend. She was an EMT in college and keeps her certification up to date. In the season 9 two part finale, Spencer pushes Y/N out of the way of that bullet instead of Blake. Now she has to keep him alive and with her.

A/N: This is my first Spencer Reid x Reader Fic. I am an actual real life EMT so this is 100% self indulgent. I hope you like it!

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Injury, Blood, Angst (but ends in fluff)

Spencer and I arrive at the restaurant with Sheriff Coleman and a few officers. Mills is inside, but no movement has been spotted yet. The officers want to move in now, but Spencer explains that it is safer to establish a perimeter and try to open a line of communication first. We begin to establish a game plan.

That is when the first shot was fired. Sheriff Coleman goes down, as the rest of us duck for cover. All of a sudden, there are shots everywhere. I look down and Sheriff Coleman is looking back at me as he clutches his side. On instinct, I crouch around the patrol car door I’m behind, and attempt to pull Coleman to safety.

I hear Spencer shout my name while he shoves me to the side. When I turn back to face him, Morgan is there. “Reid!” he yells, as he lunges forward to grab him. J.J. appears next to me and helps me begin to drag Coleman out of the line of fire. As a bullet hits him between the eyes, J.J. and I let him go and dive out of the way.

I scramble my way over to where Morgan has Spencer propped behind a car. There is so much blood that at first I can’t tell where he was shot. I finally find the wound on the side of his neck. I press my hands to the wound and attempt to stop the flow of blood between my fingers.

“Not today, Spencer,” I say only to him, before turning my head. “I need a medic!” I scream in the direction of one of the near by officers. With help on the way, I focus on trying to keep Spencer awake. “Hey,” I begin, looking into his large brown eyes. “You are not going to die on me today. You keep your eyes open, do you hear me? Eyes on me. You stay with me, Spencer. You stay awake, and you stay. With. Me.” I watch in horror as his eyes begin to roll and his eyelids flutter. “WHERE IS MY MEDIC?” I shout as loud as my lungs can manage as my chest feels like it’s collapsing.

As if on cue, a pair of men roll a stretcher up next to me. Suddenly, all of my years working on an ambulance seem like yesterday rather than back in college. “32 year old male, single GSW to the side of the neck. I’ve got the bleeding somewhat controlled, but he’s lost consciousness. Pulse is still strong under my hand, approximately 100 beats a minute. If you two can get him on the stretcher, I can keep this under control. But, we have to move now, he is losing too much blood.” The quick report flows from my lips to the two Medics easily. They quickly lift him onto the stretcher as I hold his wound and support his head. Once he is secure, I climb into the stretcher as well and straddle Spencer’s legs as I hold the wound as tightly as I can without cutting off his air. “Let’s go, NOW!” I bark at the Medics, and they wheel us to the waiting ambulance.

When we are inside, away from the gun fire, I am joined by one of the Medics as the other slams the doors behind us and jumps up front. A second pair of hands joins mine holding gauze. I help the medic wrap the wound, and then I climb off of Spencer and move to the side. I wipe my hands quickly on my pants and hold one out, “Shears.” It’s a single word, a command, and the medics places them in my hand. In record time, I have Spencer’s vest removed and his shirt cut in the area of his wound searching for other injuries.

Once I am sure we have all the bleeding controlled, I sit to the side out of the way of the Medic and grasp Spencer’s hand in both of my own. It’s cold, and I squeeze it tightly. “You do what you do, keep him alive,” I say to the medic. “I can't lose him.” I choke on a single sob before I’m rambling to Spencer. “I don’t know if you can hear me right now, Spence, but I’m just going to assume that you can. You are not allowed to die right now. We are on our way to the hospital, we are going to get you all fixed up. You’ll be good as new, and you will have an awesome scar to rub in Morgan’s face. But you have to stay with me, baby. I cannot do this job without you by my side. So right now I need you to open your eyes. Fight, Spence. Fight to stay with me.”

I take a deep breath, and Spencer begins mumbling. “The sound is like a tea kettle. Did you hear it?” His eyelids are fluttering again. And I watch as he begins looking round the ambulance.

“What?” Is all I can ask before the beeping of the equipment grows louder and the Medic says something. I don’t hear his words, I’m too focused on Spencer’s face. His eyes begin to slip closed and I can't help but yell, “Drive faster!” I choke on a second sob, “Stay with me, Spence. I’m right here, stay with me.”

When we arrive at the hospital, Spencer is unloaded and taken immediately into surgery. I clutch onto his hand until the hospital staff stops me at a set of doors. I’m forced to stand back and watch as they whisk him away. Instantly, I am numb. I allow a woman in scrubs to walk me into a nearby waiting room. I wash my hands in the waiting room bathroom before wandering back into the empty room. I stand, surrounded by empty chairs and small tables covered in old magazines, for what could have been seconds or hours, until J.J. arrives. She rushes into the room and asks, “Any news?” as she approaches me.

I shake my head, “No.” My voice sounds small and rough. I clear my throat before speaking again, “They took him straight to surgery, and no one has come back to tell me anything yet.” J.J. guides me to a seat and helps me remove my vest. “It should have been me,” I whisper as she sits across from me.

“Or me, or any of us,” she replies as if to agree with me.

“No,” I cut her off. “He pushed me out of the way. That bullet was meant for me. If he doesn’t make it…” I trail off, unable to speak anymore.

“He’ll make it,” She assures me. “He has to. There are still things for you two to do. Do you know that he wants kids? I mean, have you two talked about that? Can you imagine Spence as a dad?” She chuckles and smiles slightly. She looks as if she is going to continue, but Penelope and Cruz join us in the room. “You’re here,” J.J. says to Penelope as she gets up to hug her.

“Yeah, it turns out we’re not the only one that’s connected and he knows somebody with a plane,” Penelope replies gesturing to Cruz. “How is he?”

“Still in surgery,” I tell her as I also give her a hug. As a man in scrubs enters the room my eyes are on him and he immediately has my full attention.

“You all can see Agent Morgan now,” He says and my gaze shoots to J.J.

“A bullet grazed his arm,” she explains quickly. “He’s fine.”

I nod and take my seat again, “I’m gonna stay here. I’ll call you when I have any news.” They all nod and turn to follow the man.

Penelope turns back to me. “Hey,” she says grabbing my attention. “I’ll be right back.” I nod to her as she follows Cruz and J.J.

I was pacing the room when another man in Scrubs enters the room, “Agent?”

“How is he?” I ask quickly and suck in a breath, trying to prepare for the worst.

“Incredibly lucky,” he starts, and I let out the breath shakily. “Two millimeters to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. It nicked the smaller vessels, but we stopped the bleeding. You can see him now.” He led me to Spencer’s room and he looked so fragile laying in the hospital bed. I sat next to him in the cheap chair and called J.J. to give her the news. Penelope joined me in the room and began setting a few small Doctor Who figures on the table in front of Spencer.

“Wouldn’t it be great if he wakes up and this is the first thing he sees?” She asks me, smiling. I return her smile and nod before turning back to look at Spencer’s face. I take a deep breath and lean back in the chair to wait for him to wake up. As I’m sitting there my mind wanders back to a night at home, a few weeks ago…

Spencer is laying on his back in our bed and pulls me to him so my head rests on his bare chest. He wraps me in his arms and presses a kiss to the top of my hair. “I love you, so much,” he mumbles into my hair. “It is wonderful that I get to work with you so I’m hardly away from your side, but Y/N, it is also terrifying. What we do is just so dangerous, and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” I can feel him take a deep breath as he squeezes me tighter.

I let him hold me for a moment before I pull back so I can look into his eyes as I speak, “And I love you. I know you always have my back in the field, and I always have yours. As long as we are together, and we are always protecting each other, we are going to be fine. I’ll always have your 6, Spence.” I stretch up to kiss him before curling back against his chest and falling asleep there.

That night we slept completely wrapped around each other. I always sleep the best when he is with me and I know that he is safe. And I know I do the same for him, so without thinking I reach out and hold his hand. If he is going to heal, he needs his rest so I will do what I can to let him know I’m here.

After a while, Spencer wakes up. His eyes search the room for a moment before focusing on the toys Penelope sat out in front of him, and he smiles. “Hey,” I whisper to him as to not startle him. “Look who is finally awake.” I beam at him as he turns his eyes to meet mine. Penelope grabs a nurse and they come in to check on Spencer’s vitals and bandaging. Once they give us the all clear I leave Penelope with Spencer so I can go search for something for Spencer to eat. He asks for Jello, which makes me laugh.

As I’m around the corner from Spencer’s room I hear it. A single gunshot. I drop the tray I’m holding and pull out my gun as I run the few steps to the room. Penelope is holding Spencer’s gun and there is an orderly on the floor bleeding. I can see a gun in his waistband.

Penelope is shaking as she starts to speak, “I didn't... he's moving, okay. I didn't know how loud. I can't hear except for my heart, cause it feels like it’s gonna come out. Can that happen? Physically? Can your heart burst out of your chest? And what is this ringing? My ears don't pop for like a week after I fly and this is like that. That's gonna drive me bonkers. Am I yelling? Because it feels like I might be yelling.” She is not yelling at all, her voice is little more than a shaky whisper as Spencer gently takes the gun from her hands.

“You saved my life. Can you hear me?” Spencer asks her, as Penelope’s eyes search his face.

She looks so surprised and then relieved as she nods, “Yeah, I heard that! That makes it better. Thank you for saying that!” She leans forward to gingerly hug him.

“Thank you for doing it,” He replies as he hugs her back. When they pull apart, they both look at me. “Hey, where is my Jello?” Is the first thing Spencer asks me as I shake my head.

He almost dies twice in only a few hours, and all the man cares about is the fact that his Jello is now splattered on the floor of the hallway. “I’ll have a nurse get you some. Apparently, I cannot let you out of my sight.” I smile and kiss him. But I know he is okay, and we are all going to be fine.

[nintendylan64]

My problems with FNAF Lore

Hey guys. I felt like I wanted to explain my problems with the FNAF lore, and how the lore was ruined for me years ago.

My history with the franchise and the lore Now, I discovered the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise back in 2014 through DanTDM's Let's Play of Five Nights at Freddy's 2. It was the first time I had ever been introduced to the jumpscares and characters in-game. But I actually discovered the first game through a YTP someone made of it. With how little I knew from discovering that YTP, I assumed that Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy were anthropomorphic animals that ran the place, and that Freddy just liked to leave scary stuff in his office because he was a horror guy. That assumption was way off and DanTDM's Let's Play let me discover that the antagonists weren't anthropomorphic animals. I then discovered Markiplier's videos on the games in 2014, and fan-animations of the games like SMG4's Freddy's Spaghettiria series, and Piemations' 5 AM at Freddy's series. Besides the surprising jumpscares, what really got me hooked on the FNAF series was the 80s-90s aesthetics, and the lore behind it all. Around late 2014 and early 2015, I had discovered the hidden lore series by MrCreepyPasta, which was what got me interested in exploring the lore. I loved the FNAF lore when it was just, "Man kills 5 kids in pizzeria joint and the animatronics become haunted by the spirits of the kids". This made it feel much more realistic, as murder of kids in a place like this can happen in real life. The fact that the staff weren't behind any of it, and that the guards were originally just some average joes who got hired for a night guard position without knowing the dangers of it was also very realistic too. And the inclusion of another tragic event known as the "Bite of '87" was also interesting. But the biggest thing that made the lore have a charm to it, was how there was an implied history of Fazbear Entertainment, and FNAF 2 showed us the history of the place before the tragedies happened, as well as implying that the negative impression was stuck before the murders was also interesting. The lore was interesting back then because of how realistic and mysterious it was. And when the third game came out, it was a great conclusion to the franchise, in which the killer got his comeuppance, leaving the kid's souls to rest in peace. And the killer haunting the suit he died in as an attempt to escape his torment of being trapped in a suit, eventually leaving him to be burned alive in the location he was at was a very nice way to end things. But the way it had expanded on the story by taking place thirty years after the events of the first game, with the unsolved mysteries of Fazbear Entertainment trying to be recreated by people was a good way to expand upon the story. So basically, I prefer the FNAF lore when it was the story of how kids were murdered in a pizzeria joint, and how they eventually got revenge on their killer, while room was made to show us how the pizzeria joint handled this, and how the alleged hauntings were shown through the animatronics being possessed. Because of the lore being so interesting, I tried making up my own timelines to tie the story of the first three games together. And seeing as how the lore was concluded, it should've just ended there, right? Well... it didn't.

Where the problems crept in I think that the problems with the lore crept in with the fourth game. Now, this game could've had potential, as it could've taken place in the location where the withered animatronics were used in before FNAF 2, but it didn't do that. We got instead a child suffering through nightmares, with animatronics that have particularly stupid designs. Plus, what made it worse was that the Bite of 83 was introduced, making the topic of the Bite of'87 confusing since it was implied it happened in the second game, but now it was happening in the fourth game? But then it was revealed to be a separate event, why two separate events of the same thing? What constitutes the idea of establishing a similar event to the Bite of '87? It had nothing to impact the games itself at all. The bigger thing that was confusing is this, Fredbear's Family Diner was implied to have been closed for longer than 1983-1987, and the fact that you see the unwithered versions of the withered animatronics in Fredbear's makes it all the more confusing, since Fredbear's was established as a separate, and early location before it was later re-enfranchised as Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. So why retcon what was established in the previous games? Why not just show us in the fourth game what happened with the withered animatronics before they became withered, and then make a fifth game that took place in Fredbear's Family Diner? I don't know why Scott felt the need to retcon things, especially since most people thought that the franchise had already ended with the third game. Later on down the line, Sister Location came out in 2016. And I honestly hate Sister Location, lore-wise that is. The reason I say this is because Sister Location fucked up everything more than the 4th game. This time, there was more retconning, the horror tone and 80s-90s aesthetic was gone, the game felt like Sci-fi and less like the older games. Worse, Purple Guy was given an actual name, and turned from a cold-blooded killer that killed kids because of being a psychopath, into a mad scientist obsessed with placing souls into animatronics using soul juice in an attempt to create murderous animatronics, and he killed kids to do this, but most of them were his own or his friend's kids, Fazbear Entertainment was actually started by this maniac, and Mike Schmidt from FNAF 1 was no longer an average joe working a night shift job, but instead the son of the killer and later became an unrealistic purple zombie that somehow got hired for night shift positions. Jeremy and Fritz were no longer average joes either, and were now aliases for the purple zombie who's actual name was Michael Afton, making Mike Schmidt another alias for this zombie. And now, this was more about a family that was insane to begin with trying to put their own personal demons to rest, rather than the story of the murder of 5 children in a pizzeria joint, and the killer gets his comeuppance while the faceless pizzeria chain tried keep its reputation afloat, eventually failing which lead to the closure of it. All of this shattered how I interpreted the lore. The biggest things that Sister Location fucked up were the following. 1. Taking away the 80s/90s aesthetic. In the first and second game, the game has an 80s and 90s aesthetic with the looks of the locations and decor, as well as the camera sounds sounding like cassette tapes, and the first took place in the early 90s, while the second took place in the late 80s. FNAF 3 kept the 80s/90s aesthetic, and I'd argue FNAF 4 kept the old aesthetic too, such as how old everything looked in FNAF 3, and how the house looks particularly old in FNAF 4. FNAF SL's aesthetics look way too futuristic for a FNAF game, especially since it's said to take place before the first 4 games. 2. Making it more sci-fi. The original FNAF games, and the fourth one were meant to be horror games, and they established this greatly with audio and visual cues, as well as the storyline having a horror-esque feel to it during the first 3 games, and even the 4th game kept. The focus on sci-fi traits or elements in SL kind of kills the horror-esque feel that FNAF originally gave off, especially the whole soul juice and mad scientist part. 3. Making Fazbear Entertainment have an owner. Fazbear Entertainment should've just been left as a faceless corporation that had nothing to do with the murders, the type of company to try and cover up the damage done to their reputation by cutting costs or not batting an eye when a man kills children in their restaurant. 4. Making Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz into aliases. It doesn't make any sense as to why a company would hire a foul smelling zombie who kept changing his name. I think that Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz should've just been average joes that got night guard positions not knowing that their jobs were dangerous and not knowing the hauntings of the pizzeria they applied to work for. And 5. The Afton Family. The Afton Family completely ruined the idea of the children being killed at Freddy's by an unknown man, since now it's just about a family killing his own for a dumb mad science experiment and the son is trying to stop his own father, making it so you no longer play as an average joe that discovers the dark secrets and hauntings of a pizzeria joint, but instead you're just playing as a zombie that needs to kill his own father in order to stop his father from killing anyone else. Seriously, it feels less like a horror game, and now feels more like a badly written self-insert sci-fi story with some bit of horror mixed in. The FNAF series is way too complicated to figure out now due to loads of retconning and unnecessary changes made to the story. Worse, the Nightmare, Funtime, and other animatronics that have been added to the franchise just seems like an excuse for Scott to just add new characters simply to keep the franchise going. Now, let's look at a FNAF fan-game series with a better written story.

Five Nights at Candy's Five Nights at Candy's has a much easier to understand story than FNAF. In the first game, you play as a female night guard at a burger joint where an unfortunate incident occurred between an animatronic and a customer, and an incident involving two kids at the factory where the animatronics were made. The backstory of everything, such as the original location and the burger joint's opening are explained in FNAC 3, showing how two unfortunate incidents at the puppet/animatronic theatre led to the closure of the place. We also learn more about the main character from the first game, and the one who caused the murders as well as the victims. In the second game, everything is concluded with the daughter of the guard solving the mysteries of the old factory. The reason is because Emil Macko managed to actually tell the story in an effective way, without retconning anything and without relying entirely on twists and misdirection.

Conclusion So yeah, I can't stand FNAF lore post-FNAF 4, because of how it became way too confusing to understand, and with how the series started retconning tons of things and making unnecessary changes. And it's amazing how a FNAF fan-game was able to tell its story better than the actual FNAF fan-games. So for me, I'm sticking with the FNAF 1-3 lore, which is my interpretation of it. Before I end this blog though, what's annoying is that no matter if you mention the FNAF 1-3 lore on YouTube, people will instantly start bringing in the modern FNAF lore and correct you, even if you're following you're headcanon.

[onf-headcanons]

ONF SIBLING (E-tion and J-US)

So if you had already known me I tend to keep my hcs flexible. Same goes to this ONF DUO as siblings au. It can be either you are blood related with one of them or even not. Also doable if you are older than them, your birthday are in between them, or even you are the youngest, have fun!

Now this duo is super fun because they share the same family name even though not related. Which makes there is new scenario possibility. All of you related by blood is a very lazy way to open up possibilities for fun hcs.

1. Either you three are not related by blood at all. Changyoon and Seungjoon sharing the same family name are just pure coincidence but from different ancestry

2. Changyoon and Seungjoon are related with the same biological parents but you are from the new parent that married with one of their parent

3. They both you met in young age due to marriage of both of your parent and the parents give birth to you later

4. Either you are related from Changyoon or Seungjoon side and either one of them later joined the family. Confusing? OK example you are Changyoon's sibling by blood and then later Seungjoon joined. Or in reversed, Changyoon joined. (this is for the reader to share same family name with them both)

My recommendation goes to number 3😉. Age gap suggested would be 5 to 7 years (this is absolutely intentional you will know why later) .

I personally think is the most fun one

Common hcs for both of them. I will kind off focus on this part for the double Lees this time.

• Changyoon and Seungjoon always give me the frenemy type of chemistry

• Loud af especially if you three plays game. (The house will be even louder if Hyojin and/or Minkyun joins. So is either you join to fun or rip your ears. But if you happened to the eldest sibling, you will glare at them so that they can be quiet)

• Btw loudest happy birthday song and wishes. It does not matter whose birthday was it, it will still gonna be loud.

• Once them both and you 3 gets really comfortable with each other, or should you 3 grow up together, pranking each other is a definite thing you siblings will do.

• To lend an idea from the modern fantasy au I wrote, maybe once they planked you way too hard and you decided to revenge. You bought a fake bug and then when they are minding their own businesses, you suddenly just random throws the fake bug in front of them

• I could it will be like a cue hint for them that they went overboard pranking you when you pulled the fake bug prank move. So they will make it up by taking you out, buying you food or even timidly asking if you have anything in your amazon/shopping cart

• This household shares the same universe with Hyojin Minseok and Jaeyoung Minkyun households. So you will see Hyojin visiting alot. And Changyoon slowly gets to know about his new younger brother's bff and them 3 hang out comfortably in no time.

• If your bff happens to be the younger sibling from Jaeyoung and Minkyun household, you would see them both often when they drop by to pick their younger sibling.

• Who knows? Maybe you later on develop a crush with those good looking visitors

• Lol. Sorry that i got sidetracked, lets go back to the common hcs.

• Changyoon need time to adjust to new environment and people while Seungjoon is the opposite

• If you are happened to be a cheerfully active type, you easily interact with Seungjoon. But if you are not, they will approach you very cautiously. Maybe Changyoon even enough an introvert himself, will initiate first to show that the nuance of this household is perfectly fine. Especially Changyoon, working very hard to not accidentally step on your emotional landmine

• Changyoon stuttering

• Seungjoon glaring/swearing with his eyes

• It will be a very good contrast if Changyoon and Seungjoon are weak against horror or jumpscares but you being the youngest sibling is perfectly fine about it

• Lol even maybe you are the one who kills bug in the household

• 3 of you have own room because apparently Changyoon has really bad sleep qualities so he prefer to sleep alone and you get your own room too either for the same reason or, you being the opposite sex sibling and your parents thought it's best to sleep separately.

• Either you 3 are related or not, they will be a devoted elder brother. But wont over spoil you.

• Seungjoon giving out critique in a gentle tone. While Changyoon is more on expressing his honest thought that meant well.

• Contrast example : Seungjoon will use phrases of compliment like you did wonderful job, you aced it. But Changyoon will just simply said, you worked hard then just pose you a thumbs up.

• I can totally see Seungjoon and you either helping you with your studies and revisions at the living room while Changyoon just sitting there enjoying the presence of you two. Or, Seungjoon just drags you out to the town library and monitor you. Reason you and Changyoon are having way too much fun with video games.

• Seungjoon will later buy you ice cream as reward.

• Btw if you are born later, this is how it will be when you parents brought the baby you back home.

• Seungjoon is excited to see you while Changyoon is a bit timid but still fascinated at how smol you are

• Maybe when you cried, Seungjoon will be the boy in action to help calm you down while Changyoon lowkey panicking.

• Could be Seungjoon is the type of brother who show you toys and demonstrates to the baby/toddler you just to make you laugh.

• But Changyoon's style would be getting himself a hand puppet, the shark one is his fave, and move the hand puppet around while giving light chomps, making you feel ticklish. Once you start smiling, big bro Changyoon starts smiling too.

• But once them both got the hang of it, they help out parents to take care of you. The type of brothers that won't let go of the younger sibling away from their arms and sight.

• Changyoon follows your mum out and help selected your clothes. And even later when you grow older, you would always go to big bro Changyoon for fashion advice

• Both are very reliable elder siblings when it comes to giving advice.

• I can see if you are leaning to socialising advice, you will go to Seungjoon. For a more inwards self contemplating advice, you will go to Changyoon. Overall they are both good listeners.

• Also, them both singing. I do like the tendency of them singing at home ever since you were born, humming short tunes so that you can sleep when you are still a toddler until you graduated kindergarten. Will elaborate more in below if reader stand in also like singing and dancing

• If Hyojin side as a big brother is more attentive towards younger brother, I can see this two are more attentive if its younger sister. Not that their caring will die down if its a brother but when it comes to a sister, they will be gentler

• Oh,also defo the ones who volunteer to accompany you to prom night

Scenario 1. If you are related with any one of them

• Being Changyoon's sibling, maybe you are a contrast of him. He is a scaredy cat and full of expressions, but you are more of a chill zen type. The one who pushes Changyoon's jaw back up when he was too surprised with his mouth open wide.

• Even though you are Changyoon's sibling, you might team up with Seungjoon and Hyojin to tease Changyoon a bit lol

• If you happened to share the same passion of singing just like Changyoon, you two tend to finish each others lyrics or even try harmonising. Seungjoon will join too once he gets comfortable

• Every year in your birthday card, Changyoon will always write "You are the best, Luv you!" (Taken from Changyoon's "Non choigo ya saranghae"

• Being Seungjoon's sibling, you are also close with Hyojin before Changyoon joins

• Lent from above, you are the one who kills bugs at home because you brother will be using you as shield. And then bluffed that he wanted to train you lol

• And yes, the fake bug prank is legit here

• Even though he is your brother, you would gang up with Changyoon to tease Seungjoon . But you won't go overboard,you two stops the moment he starts his death glare.

• If you happened to share the same passion of dancing with Seungjoon, I can see you two dancing to Taemin's and Shinee's discography alot.

Scneario 2. If you are not related with any one of them.

• Seungjoon is gonna talk to you alot to try to know you more

• There will a lot of cute bloopers and maybe Seungjoon passed through either judging you two being weird or maybe later joins

• Changyoon would try and it will more time compared to Seungjoon but if you share something in common with him, you will get him open up quickly. Maybe tiktok, and then you two filmed tiktok snips together

• If Changyoon and Seungjoon happens to know/acquainted already then things are easier, your sibling only just need to help the other party who is the shy and introverted.

• You might think they are both cold and distant when first meet. Especially Changyoon because of his eyes and how he looks when he is not smiling.

• Pranks in this scenario will be lesser than above. The fake bug prank move won't appear in this scenario

• But both Changyoon and Seungjoon are quite of the unexpected bomb lol they sometimes do weird sounds or weird actions lol but those weird quirks always give you good laugh

• Changyoon works a few part time job and sometimes fall asleep on the sofa at the living room . Will always tiptoe if you found Changyoon sleeping at the living room, snoring

• If you found Seungjoon sleeping, and later found out he is a deep sleeper...

• Cues you and Changyoon maybe lowkey pranking or playing around of loud noises just to try waking him up

• (The similar scene in wake up boys video could totally happen)

• If you happened to be also a light sleeper, you are envious of Seungjoon

• You and Changyoon both will never unsee Seungjoon's face as the orange face meme after Hyojin points it out due to revenging Seungjoon calling him piggy

• You will bond with Seungjoon quickier if you are a Taemin fan

• If you are more of a R&B/soul/hiphop lover, you will bond with Changyoon quicker.

• Amazed at Seungjoon able to take in spicy food.

A/N : sorry that it gotten longer because I side tracked

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 30 – Wrong Start

“I give you 10 seconds for you to confess, whoever it is.”

Muzaka’s statement resonated in the air, left unanswered by his closest and most trusted warriors.

None of the four warriors could fancy what was in their lord’s head, and they were busy exchanging looks among themselves, until Garda, as the most experienced of all warriors, decided to be the vanguard.

“Pardon me, my lord, but... I am afraid we have no idea what you want to discuss with us.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I mean, can I make it any more obvious?”

Muzaka sighed from the bottom of his guts, as if he just encountered the gravest tragedy he has ever witnessed.

“Don’t you hear that? Our little girl throwing a raging, hissy fit as we speak.”

Oh.

No mouth in the area ever moved, but an identical sound rang in their heads in synchronization.

In fact, questions had been ringing in their heads even before Muzaka summoned them.

‘What on earth had happened to Lunark?’

‘Why is she so mad?’

‘Shouldn’t we stop her? At this rate, she’ll blow up at least 10% of our land.’

By the time damages caused by Union’s biological weapons were almost as good as gone, out of the blue thundered new cacophony undeniably from a work of destruction.

It turned out Lunark was to blame, slashing and trashing like a bull that has spotted a red flag, as reported by two rookie warriors that were dispatched to find out the cause of it.

And she was doing one hell of a job, so vicious that they could not even get close, let alone ask her what was wrong.

“But it seems her reasons are still functioning. She’s wreaking havoc at that infamous forest. But really, does anybody have any idea what’s gotten into the girl? Whether it is condolence or understanding or reprimand that she needs, I’ll be able to choose one only when I find out why she’s doing... All that. Anybody? Please?”

Nobody moved a muscle to Muzaka’s inquiry-slash-request, for they were just as clueless as he was.

That is, all except one.

Garda learned about Lunark’s rampage from new warriors, who were already throwing a talk party of their own regarding the grey-haired warrior’s behavior, and she ran to the spot right away to check what was going on.

And she could pick up Lunark’s voice even before reaching the forest, from which the former usually stays away.

“Aaaaaaaaaagh!!”

She managed to catch a glimpse of the younger warrior from afar, who was screeching an array of unrecognizable vowels and syllables, with her hands shifted into battle stance as she was hurling towards whatever she could reach, air, trees, or leaves afloat.

Garda had no choice but to retreat, partially because she got scared for her own life, and partially because she was beyond puzzled, never having seen Lunark so unbridled.

Luckily, she could spot Lunark’s face right before she turned away, which left a concerning impression in her head.

‘It looks to me she isn’t mad. She’s whipping up embarrassment from the depth of her soul. Just what could mortify and set her off like that?’

*****

Few days later, Frankenstein’s island

‘Just what did he do?’

The white-haired man had been asking himself ever since the lord of the island returned at last.

He did remember that Frankenstein said he would be visiting wolfkind; however, he was wondering whether he ate the Dark Spear on his way.

Because the atmosphere from the blonde human was so dark, so violent.

That was when 3rd Elder’s experience with mind games from Union kicked in, and he attempted to analyze Frankenstein’s mental state based on what he could make out of his islemate’s facial expressions.

As a result, he could identify a number of emotions: extreme irritation, fury just as extreme, remorse greater than either of the two, and, most importantly, self-hate.

Because of which, 3rd got highly conscious of his every breath and step, despite the fact that he was lodging on this island upon Frankenstein’s permission and consent.

On the other hand, unbeknownst to the scientist, he terrified that the former could have noticed his alliance with Helga.

So he ended up asking Frankenstein if there was something troubling him, ready for a lethal slap in the face.

It’s nothing.

Came a reply with a face that THERE IS DEFINITELY SOMETHING, before the speaker fled the scene.

That did not do any good to relieve 3rd Elder of his fear, but at least he was convinced that the reason behind Frankenstein’s foul mood lay not with him.

When he walked away, Frankenstein’s steps were immediate, rushed as if he never wanted to talk about it ever again.

‘That just made it more curious for me, but I guess it’s none of my business, whatever it is. What matters is that Frankenstein knows nothing about my deal. Speaking of which, looks like the recorder and tracker in me really didn’t work.’

He already knew the answer; had they worked properly, upon his return Frankenstein would have cornered him almost as if he were going for a round of a full torture.

So all in all, regardless of what had taken place with the wielder of Dark Spear, 3rd Elder could not deny that it was all good for him.

It was so good to know Helga’s promise came with a reason.

It was very good to find out her accomplice was truly talented.

‘And I’d say she’s also talented, having discovered and won over such competence, especially considering the original alliance of the said competence.’

Though Helga did relay to him the course through which her accomplice had agreed to act as an accomplice, 3rd Elder was still mystified.

‘Anyways, I’d say nobody knows about my ‘betrayal.’ Which means I should focus on my job and do it right, on the day she mentioned.’

*****

Time never stopped its magic, and at last came the day marked on everyone’s calendar.

<I was wondering whether we could make it...>

<But here we are.>

“Haha, amen to both of you.”

Tao, who had found himself in front of computers for once, laughed at the screens hosting virtual conversation with four recipients at once.

Nonetheless, the man’s face held a hint of anxiety, and Adne somehow detected it like an X-ray.

<Mr. Tao, was it...? There’s no need to be so anxious.>

“Haha, was it that obvious? How embarrassing. And I have been calling myself an expert, with tons and variety of experience when it comes to computers.”

Tao laughed, scratching a side of his head, when Adne offered a word of comfort.

<Experiences does not really grow on par with poise. Besides, anxiety is not so bad, although this is from someone who just told you not to be so anxious. It’s a proof that you are responsible and conscious of the weight of your task.>

“My, I’m starting to feel small in your presence. We should be calling you the real expert.”

<An expert? Me? That’s preposterous. I am no expert.>

But I wanted to be one.

Tao blinked, wondering if he had just heard the werewolf doctor whispering.

Before he could ask if he had said something, however, Adne beamed in satisfaction.

<Most importantly, Mr. Frankenstein recommended you. And that’s more than enough reason for me to trust you.>

“Aww, come on, boss! You should really stop being a proud daddy.”

<I dare you to shout that in my face one more time.>

Tao felt his body turning rigid as a biting voice speared his eardrums.

So did Takio and M-21, watching the scene right next to his chair.

Frankenstein’s face, lighting up an entire monitor that was assigned to him, was brimming with annoyance.

<Thanks a lot, Tao. I’m already starting to think that I really shouldn’t have volunteered as an audience.>

“Aww, don’t be so mean, boss. There’s no way we’re leaving you out for the grand premiere of the event.”

<I would like to second that.>

Said Lascrea, who had been listening like a rock until then.

Because she was standing next to Yuhyung, who decided to be the operator for Lukedonia, only part of her face was visible.

The only one who has not spoken was the doctor from KSA.

Or rather, he decided not to speak, overwhelmed by the presence of werewolves, nobles, Frankenstein, and a group of people who had shared with him blood and sweat in battles.

But of course, that did not mean KSA would be left unspoken for the duration of the event, though it was because Tao directed a word to everyone at the scene.

“So, are we all ready? Status report, please.”

<Yep! All set!>

<Uh, same here...>

<...I believe we are ready as well.>

Adne was the last to send an okay, after a bit of delay, to which Tao responded with a nod completely void of a smile.

“So, shall we begin?”

Right on cue, Yuhyung took the invisible mike from Tao.

<Now, please follow the instructions I had left for you. First, run the program I installed for you.>

Tao’s fingers danced across the keyboard, for he had fully memorized Yuhyung’s instruction manual; and Adne and KSA’s doctor followed suit.

The two humans provided feedback whenever things were lost or stuck in the middle, and they reached step by step closer to the initiation of the QuadraNet.

By then M-21, Takio, and even Lascrea were having a hard time hiding their excitement.

“Okay, we’re almost there! Just a little bit more!”

Tao’s encouragement fueled everybody to the last stage.

<Now, once this file is activated, all four servers will be linked. And like I told you a number of times, we must activate the file at the exact same moment.>

“On a count of three. One... Two...”

Three.

Four fingers stabbed the enter key in unison, and not long after they held their breath in waiting, pleasing hum of machines and blue light began their duet.

<...Well? It looks like things went okay here.>

Asked a voice from monitor connected to the KSA’s headquarter, somewhere between anticipation and concern.

<W-w-we’re okay!>

<Uh, same here...>

Came voices wild with wonder, and Tao was about to laugh in reply, when an eerie whirring noise, pitched so high and so ominous, began to bore through everyone’s ears.

The fact that it took place just when they were literally less than an inch away from completion was horrifying enough, but they had yet to realize the real horror was yet to reveal itself.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

BEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!

Monitors linking Lukedonia, KSA, and wolfkind also emitted similar noises, and soon Tao found his screens being painted with tiny numbers and alphabets one by one.

“Tao? What is it?”

“What’s going on?”

Barked Takio and M-21 in alarm; they did not define themselves as computer-friendly type, but they had enough knowledge to tell that such phenomenon takes place usually when there is a technical issue or its sort.

Not to mention Tao’s face was all they needed to see that something has gone terribly wrong.

“No, no, no...! Our server...!”

Tao yelled as he was slamming the keyboard with his entire fingers.

And right then Murphy’s Law decided to spit in their faces.

Pzzt...!

Everyone’s face blinked off as if promised, and instead the monitors were refilled with noises that made the RK’s eyes bleed just by staring.

“What the heck is going on...?!”

*****

“Tao? Mr. Jang? Doctor? Dr. Adne?”

Frankenstein was almost wailing for everyone’s name as well.

To no avail, of course.

“What is it? Just tell me what the hell it is!”

Frankenstein’s cry scattered into an echo unreciprocated, as he was clutching onto his monitor.

So he had no idea there was a pair of blue eyes watching him from his back.

‘Stage 1 is complete.’

Cause disturbance with everyone’s server the moment QuadraNet comes alive.

Therefore, make sure no one can pay attention to anything other than the sudden technical chaos, including what he and Helga will stir up in the future.

It was not an easy task, but they made it.

The 3rd Elder silently removed himself from the back of the stage, his mind winding back to the face of their accomplice, who happened to be featuring on one of Frankenstein’s monitors just a while ago.

(next chapter)

Perhaps it would feel a little rushed to bring about trouble so soon, when the previous chapter featured Frankenstein and Lunark’s first kiss, but now things will start taking the wrong turns. I mean, it’s no fun if there are no troubles or challenges in a fic lol. By the way, I started adding links on each chapter that can take you to previous/next chapter (you can find the link to previous chapter at the top, and the link to the next chapter at the bottom). I’ll add the links to all previous chapters very soon!

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Emily's Awakening, Part Three

Following a jolt and abrupt halt in her uncontrolled flight, Emily shot through the air and tumbled forward. Immense heat, so fiery that it threatened her skin to blister, made way to flames licking at her nude body, triggering a visceral response; making animal instincts flare up and drive her to new heights of exertion.

She rolled after hitting the ground, stumbling back onto her feet only to run yet farther—only forward—liberating every aspect of the clashing realities and letting this hell burn to the ground with its own flame.

Running, sprinting, up until she stopped sensing her body itself. Until her entire being had become this valley of fire.

A scent of sulfur and something that reminded her of blood or rust—iron—hit her nostrils like a freight train. The heat that accompanied it was out of this world, radiating from a floor made out of red hot cast iron—but it did not hurt Emily.

She stood before a maze and in the center of that maze stood Emily. Or rather, a glowing image, a reflection of herself, lit and radiating with the dim light of that calm blue flame, contrasting the crimson glow of the inferno and lava all around.

Emily finally paused, finding that she didn’t need to catch her breath. Instead, a strange calm filled her. Smoke billowed out from between her lips even though her last cigarette felt like it had burnt down an eternity ago. Fire burnt on her skin—no, it burnt from her skin, escaping through the pores from her blood within—a raging fire. Her skin had lost all semblance of flesh, now made of pure, living iron.

The other Emily—the other one who stood in the center of the labyrinthine pattern of glowing lines—she beckoned Iron Emily to herself. Blue Flame Emily’s blue light glimmered, glowing in a steady counterbalance to Iron Emily’s red-hot rage.

Focus.

Focus.

“What the jailer does not know, is that they are just another prisoner,” Emily whispered. To herself or to anything within the infinity around her; none of that mattered. Recalling Wise Man’s words helped her calm down.

All that mattered was that her mind still functioned and the words emerged from her core, like the whisper and crackle of a flame, like the mantra that heralded an anchor being cast into the water. It didn’t sound or feel like her self anymore, but it was—unmistakably so. Even more her self now than ever before.

Reborn.

No—something was missing. Something crucial. She was still in the process of rebirth.

Iron Emily approached Blue Flame Emily. Her consciousness trailed behind her by half a step, always following, all entities connected by silver threads but remaining out of sync and catching up in a blur.

The fires would meet. Together they would burn brighter than any color.

A beacon of blinding light.

The moment Iron Emily stepped onto the pattern of the maze to cross the floor, a shock wave jolted through her body and an unseen force pushed her back. She could feel the iron of her feet melting into the searing-hot stone of the maze, making her steps weigh a million tons and slowing her advance.

“Wake up,” Iron Emily said to Emily. The words poured out like smoke, smooth and toxic. She was not appealing to a dreaming self, nor was she urging Emily to wake up from a nightmare. Emily was telling Emily to focus—to shed all things that still held her back.

The first thing that weighed her down was a glimpse of another reality—another timeline? Another dimension? A place where Emily sat inside the bright white confines of a psych ward, rocking back and forth and withdrawn from reality altogether, failing to cope with the horrors of being abducted and raped by monsters posing as human beings.

That image loomed behind her like a dark shadow. That alternate existence and everything else behind her—there lied madness.

Only two ways left to go: to turn back and surrender herself to insanity, or to wander the infernal maze and embrace her destiny.

Iron Emily struggled to move, finally lifting a foot and taking her first step into the circular maze. A familiar presence blinked into existence—felt but not seen, then heard but not felt.

“Gay Chris,” as they always called him back in the day. One of her best friends. He stood, leaning against one of the fiery rocks on the edge of the maze, giving off a casual air and unfazed by this surreal hellscape.

“You always rant about all the shit that’s wrong with the world, but what the fuck are you doing about it but ranting? Shut the fuck up if you’re not going to do anything about it,” he said, repeating the words that had inspired Emily to become the truth-seeker she was now.

Even his expression mirrored the one on his face from that decade past—annoyed by his stoned friend’s idiotic tirades. When it clicked for Emily. When she steered her life in a new direction, one in which she would change the world, and the one in which she became a jaded journalist.

“I won’t shut the fuck up,” she replied, now smiling. Originally, she had been taken aback by his words. Now she knew the purpose she had found, the things she had done, and all the things she still wanted to do. “At least I’m fucking doing something now. Can you say the same for yourself, designing graphics for stupid little video games over in Montreal, motherfucker?”

“She won’t be silenced, son,” Detective Tanner said. The law man had appeared behind Iron Emily, seemingly out of nowhere, born from this fiery hell.

Chris chuckled and his skin melted, sloughing off like pudding. The chuckling gurgled and exploded into a bellowing, booming laughter, growing in volume. From the hideous molten flesh emerged a demonic figure, showing its true form.

Emily’s madness.

“Sure, keep acting tough, little girl. Cuffed to the curtain rod while the Grinning Man sinks the blade into your back,” the demon said.

Iron Emily squinted, pushing back the memories of her trauma. But there would be no avoiding them here. She could feel the infernal fires burning away all uncertainty, peeling away the layers of her flesh like the skin of an onion till all that was left was the stark realities underneath, and the core of who she truly was.

Thing being, Emily was not afraid of that anymore. She was not afraid of her true self. She knew her flaws, her weaknesses, all the rough edges and the inconsistencies that she believed to burden the world around her with.

Part of her true self was this thing—this demon—and she felt no shame about it. No regrets. She was more in tune with who she was than ever before. She remembered it from her drug trip in Rodney’s basement. And here it was again, haunting her.

She let her gaze sweep back and forth between Tanner and the demonic entity that had worn Gay Chris as a disguise.

“What the fuck do I call you?”

“Tanner,” said the entity looking like Detective Tanner.

“Okay. And you? You’re not Chris anymore,” she said, nodding at the demon. “Here’s your chance to pick a cool name, because I sure as hell am gonna give you a dumb one just to piss you off.”

The demon cackled and growled, “I am what lurks at the bottom of each glass of booze you drown yourself in.”

“Alright. Suit yourself, asshole. I dub thee Stinky Jim.”

This also amused the demon, prompting more mad cackling.

A sense of uneasiness returned. It reminded her of the presence of the Grinning Man. Always behind her, closing in for the kill. Murder in the eyes, just watching her.

Emily dared to shoot a glance over her shoulder, peeking at the infernal madness behind her, raging at the edges of the maze. From it emerged Hal, carrying the studio camera, approaching her.

“Clever, Emily. Now show us how much of a ‘highly-functioning alcoholic’ you really are. Not sure you ever managed to pull off that magic trick, you dumb bitch,” he sneered, keeping the camera trained on her. The red light on the camera flashed menacingly, matching the beat of the all-devouring madness, beating to the pulse of this Pandemonium.

Stinky Jim cackled more at this, and melted into a puddle of searing-hot lava on the floor. Emily chose to ignore Fake-Evil Hal and look straight ahead.

Kept her eyes on Blue Flame Emily.

Still she could feel the camera, hovering right behind her. Watching her every move. Some part of her knew this was her own insanity, a part of herself that was judging her, testing her. Prodding her with every single bad memory, and exposing everything she thought or desired.

Fake-Evil Hal reminded her of her self-destructive, self-hating streak.

“You have to keep going,” Tanner said. Emily wanted to imagine that she reminded him of her father, but Tanner didn’t. If anything, he reminded her of what she imagined a father figure to be like, and what such a man would do now. “You got this,” he added on cue.

“Are you really Tanner?” she asked him. Because while everything and everybody else felt like manifestations of her self, Tanner’s presence felt so—off. Out of place.

He turned and pointed to the wall behind him. Instead of the obsidian and granite that comprised the solid structures within this fiery hell, he stood within the confines of his office at the precinct.

A red yarn connected pins on the corkboard there, drawing lines between different photos, maps, and pink Post-it notes. She remembered this “paranoia wall” of his quite well.

“It’s not paranoia when they’re really out to get ya,” he reiterated. “This shit sandwich is made in the top echelons,” he told her, tapping the Post-its with question marks at the head of the maze-like map he had created. She knew what he meant: that it went all the way up to the police chief. “I’ll do what I can, but you need to be careful.”

A presence neared, heavy with malice. As both Emily and Tanner turned in unison to gaze upon its visage, more of the projection of the detective and his office overlapped with the fiery maze. Through the milky obscuring glass on his office door, silhouettes approached. Shadows. Nebulous, faceless, and evil.

Converging on Tanner.

“You gotta go. Never give up,” Tanner said.

Emily wanted to tell him that things would be different now, but the moment she turned to tell him so, Tanner and his office transformed into ashes, like thin sheets of paper burning up in a flash. The violent winds of the inferno swept the ashes away, scattering them in every direction, and absorbing the embers like they never existed in the first place.

Tanner was gone and a pang of guilt hit Iron Emily in the gut.

He was right, she had to go. She strained and tried to lift her legs, but her feet had fused with the smooth stone ground beneath her.

“Welcome to the Emily show, where everybody is rooting for everybody else—yelling at the screen and hoping to see you fail. Because you’re such a vile piece of shit,” Fake-Evil Hal said, still behind her, a presence holding the camera. “Did I say everybody? Hah, don’t let it get to your head. Nobody likes you, and nobody’s watching. You’re the only viewer, you self-loathing, self-involved whore.”

Emily took a deep breath and exhaled more smoke. She flipped Fake-Evil Hal the bird without even turning around or giving him the satisfaction.

Then she pushed forward, pulling her limbs with all her might. Taking one difficult step at a time, her iron legs thudding against the accursed stone with tremendous weight as she made her way into the maze.

Blue Flame Emily looked so close, but felt so far. So infinitely far away. Every step Iron Emily took, the stone ignited and burned beneath her feet, threatening to melt her down and swallow the molten metal that her body had transformed into.

Roaring jets of bright white flames shot forth from the lines of the maze. Where the walls of this labyrinth had only occupied an imaginary space, now deadly fire forced Emily to wander through its forlorn paths.

“Only you can walk this path,” Miranda’s words echoed in her thoughts.

And walk she would.

Thick clouds of ashes and flames exploded from the walls of the maze, dragging deadly fog through the fiery corridors. Iron Emily felt the heat inherent, so hot that it would singe all her hair. But she had not a single hair on her body because iron made up her entire being now.

Even with this invulnerability to the fire, she instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes from the toxic cloud of suffocating ashes. She could breathe smoke but held her breath as if it mattered. Every step she took to move forward she made in complete blindness.

When she dared to open her eyes, the world had changed again.

Unlike in the maze, the smoke she exhaled was born from a lit cigarette. Emily let her hand holding the cigarette lazily droop off the side of the bed in which she now lay. Sweat and the smell of sex clung to her and she glowed. So did the man next to her, with whom her legs were entangled. The legs of her love: Julian.

Just like she remembered, he smiled at her when he plucked the cigarette from between her fingers and snuffed it out in a glass of water.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t need those anymore if it was just that good?” he asked.

The maze faded quickly from the forefront of Emily’s mind and made way for a warm, soft feeling throughout her entire being. It crept across her face, stretching her lips into a warm smile.

“Maybe it just wasn’t that good,” she whispered coyly.

She rolled over and rested her head on his chest, tracing the lines of his arm with the tip of her index finger.

He chuckled and gingerly brushed strands of her hair aside, then fondled the curve of her ear and the back of her neck with his hand. They both radiated with heat—not that of fire and destruction, but a heat of passion and deep-rooted love.

She remembered this night. You don’t forget the ones in which the sex you had stands out as some of the best you ever had. But the inferno and the madness that had brought her back here still lingered, chipping away at the back of her mind.

Even in reality, she found Julian’s apartment incredible. Living there as long as she had always made her think she was dreaming. It never quite matched where she came from and where she imagined to be going in life. And alas, it existed only in a short-lived bubble of time, a sweet memory sandwiched in between harrowing experiences.

One wall of the spacious bedroom consisted of glass, beyond which a twinkling sea of lights sprawled across the horizon of a nightly sky—the skyline of Los Angeles sparkled in warm colors, fuzzy and distant.

Lost in this moment when it had been a reality, Emily wanted to lose herself in it again. Never again, she believed, would she experience a comfort like this in her life. She drank in Julian’s scent, basked in his warmth, and swam in a sea of harmonious bliss.

This was her home.

“I can’t wait till we get married,” he said. He rested his palm against her lower back, hot and soothing at the same time.

And there it was again���the madness, chipping away, scratching at the back of her consciousness. Reminding her that this was not real.

She exhaled sharply through her nostrils but lingered where she lay. She turned her head to gaze dreamily into the tiny orange lights of the skyline, to rest her ear on his chest and listen to the calming rhythm of his heartbeat.

Emily savored this memory and place for as long as she could before replying.

“I’m so sorry, Julian, but that isn’t real. You never said that. I was going to propose to you before Kathryn Shaw killed you.”

She hugged him tightly, holding close to him.

“None of this is real.”

The bedroom door opened. Julian entered, wearing the jogging clothing she had gotten him for his birthday, darkened around the neck and pits where the fabric had soaked up sweat. No less attractive, he brandished a feeble smile as he blinked and looked upon Emily from across the room. His eyes were wet with sadness and concern—and longing. The smile faded from his face once his gaze shifted from her to the Julian she lay with on the bed, upon which he squinted.

The Julian by the door instantly felt more real to her.

“You can’t fool her. She is too strong for that,” Real Julian said.

She pushed herself up, away from False Julian. This one smiled back at her, but his smile had an almost sinister air about it now. His body lost all definition and melted down into a pile of gray ooze, bubbling goo that seeped into the sheets of the bed and vanished entirely, leaving only sweaty stains. Emily felt like she should have been more startled at this, but everything made perfect sense here.

By the time Real Julian had approached, she sat up straight on the edge of the bed. When he cradled her cheeks in his hands, her eyes welled up with tears, blurring her vision of him. With the soft light and her sights a mess, he looked an angel.

How fitting, she thought. Just like the memories blur.

But he wiped the tears away with his thumbs and knelt by her side to match her eye level.

“You have to carry on. Continue on. Only you can walk this path, and only you can do this,” he said. And every word resonated with that sense of natural strength inherent in his being. Everything good about him that she remembered and cherished.

A lump formed in Emily’s throat and tightened, making it harder to hold back the tears, and impossible to say anything.

“I will always be with you,” he said.

His warm, genuine smile forced the sparkling tears from his own eyes.

Before Emily could answer, she had to gulp, rid herself of that lump in her throat. It was the most painful thing to swallow, because she wanted to tell him how much she loved him. Tears rolled down her cheeks like pure little pearls of sorrow.

Before she could say anything, he pulled her close and then melded with her—passed into her, like a ghost, dissolving as they merged. Real Julian became one with her and the warmth that she had always felt in the memories of him filled her, making her soul hum and her essence scintillate. She glowed with light—constant, like a lantern, and soothing; unlike the violently flickering flames of her rage. They flashed in a blue light for a brief moment.

“Goodbye, Julian,” she said, breaking the words as she choked on them.

“This is no goodbye,” he said. His voice was everywhere and nowhere. It didn’t exist, yet it came from deep within. “You will always have me by your side.”

With the tears fully streaming from her weary eyes, she wiped them with her entire forearm, sobbing in silence and this strangely comforting solitude. When she looked down upon her nude body, it was iron again, with her hand clad in the strange gauntlet.

She rose from her seat on the bed’s side, shot one last longing glance at the skyline of Los Angeles—reminiscing on how this represented the one short phase in her life during which she truly knew happiness—and made her way to the bedroom door.

Just twisting the doorknob and pulling lightly on it, a gust of mighty wind blew it wide open, nearly knocking her back, and a flurry of ash and embers flowed through. Flames licked around the edges of the frame, incinerating everything and devouring this place of solace. Rather than succumbing to despair, Iron Emily shielded herself with the gauntlet and marched through, continuing through the fiery walls of the maze.

Her limbs weighed heavier than before, as if she had to grow stronger just to lift her legs and press on. Where she had been moving effortlessly through Julian’s bedroom, she now felt the weight of the iron in her soul, threatening to stop her in her tracks.

“You have to carry on,” Julian’s words echoed in her mind, feeding the pure flames of her will.

And she did, groaning as it took more and more out of her essence to stride forth, doubly so when the walls flared up, trying to discourage her from continuing and instead whispering to her; luring her into a false sense of security, promising an escape that the self-destructive madness behind her might offer. With the growing flames of the maze’s walls, another cloud of thick black smoke billowed out from them and engulfed her whole.

The tears had long dried—burned away by the searing heat. When the plumes parted and her vision cleared, she gazed upon her family life. Times growing up, ghostly rooms taking shape and dissolving before her eyes as she continued to wander through the maze without ever taking a wrong turn or even considering to turn back.

Here, she argued with Willow. There she played with Hannah. Being the middle child of three sisters always had been a mixture of blessing and curse. Willow, older, strong and aloof, always daddy’s favorite. Hannah, younger, sweet and doe-eyed, always pampered and cut some slack. Young Emily had to settle on the hand-me-downs from Willow but never had to feel the jealousy towards Hannah that Willow felt. Teenage Emily was cut no slack, expected to excel wherever Willow failed, and be a perfect example for Hannah.

Little Emily woke up in a panic from a nightmare and wandered into the living room. Dark, save the cold blue glow from the television set on the stand that her father was staring into. Tears streaked down Little Emily’s eyes as she approached him and told him about her bad dream. Mom was out of town on work.

Black rings of exhaustion lined Dad’s eyes from the long hours at work he had put behind him—from the time before he started his own hardware store—and he put most of his attention into the news on TV. Her repeated attempts to earn some comfort or calm from him only added to his annoyance with her that night, gnawing at his patience.

He slapped her. Stunned her. Told her he was too tired for this. Had an apology written on his face, but said nothing to that effect. She cried and went back to bed, alone, sobbing in solitude. He never did apologize, though that was the only time he ever hit her—and to Emily’s knowledge, hit anybody in his family.

Unlike in her raw memories, she suddenly heard a whisper. A thought. Then more, reaching her through the ether. These thoughts were not her own, but her father’s, forming in Iron Emily’s mind like speech, “Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that. Should I say something? I’ll apologize tomorrow. I mean, she really should respect me and leave me alone when I tell her to. God, she looks so miserable and pathetic. I’ll fix this tomorrow.”

Maybe things would have been different back then, had she known his thoughts. Iron Emily then wondered if hearing her thoughts was not just the madness catching up to her.

Iron Emily hardened and pulled her legs up, taking one step after another with renewed vigor, finding yet greater strength to continue. Nothing would be easy—nothing ever was. Though she vowed to not forget those who helped or loved her, she would expect no help from anybody. She left the sobbing Little Emily behind, the little girl who had strangely grown from this bit of trauma.

At a party her mother was hosting, Young Teenage Emily kept telling Mom that she didn’t want to play the guitar. A bunch of grown-up friends of Mom whom Emily didn’t particularly like were there, staring awkwardly and trying to not interfere with the minor drama unfolding.

Sure, Young Teenage Emily could play the guitar a little bit. But despite being a heavy metal enthusiast, she had never really gotten into it. Instead of going to all the lessons her parents paid for, she would rather hang out with Gay Chris, Carlos, Rodney, and Jimmy—getting high and talking about politics and philosophy with the average stoner’s depth of a shallow pond.

She could play a few chords, a few riffs, and had a shaky grasp on rendering some common songs. Just capable enough to softly play a couple of pieces on her acoustic guitar.

Mom haranguing her to perform something she neither wanted to nor thought she was particularly good at embarrassed her deeply, let alone in front of all these people she didn’t even know or give two shits about.

“Mom, come on. No.”

“You’re so talented, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Mom hissed at her.

“I don’t wanna. I’m not even warmed up.”

“Come on, Emily, I believe in you.”

“No! I’m not going to play the stupid fucking guitar, alright?” Young Teenage Emily exploded, and Iron Emily could almost lip-sync it word for word; with that outburst having burnt itself into her memory.

Everybody stared. Someone bit their lip in the uncomfortable silence that ensued. Someone else almost cleared their throat, then changed their mind as to not draw attention to themselves.

Young Teenage Emily stormed out of the room. She went to her own room, brooded and paced for a few minutes, then climbed out of her window and went to hang out with her friends.

Iron Emily, however, witnessed what happened after Young Teenage Emily had left the scene.

Was this her imagination? The madness of this maze and her crumbling mind now manifesting in these scenarios, filling in the blanks? Or was the unfettered power of this place bleeding through reality, piercing the veil of time and space and showing her something that Young Teenage Emily had never seen?

Her mother went to the nearest couple and complained about her.

“I just don’t know what to do about her anymore. We tried everything to raise her right, but she started listening to heavy metal and smoking, and I think her friends are just a bad influence on her,” she said.

The guests did not contradict her. They nodded with their awkward, fake smiles, not trying to feed the fires of this conflict or take part in it in any way.

“She is always so angry, and explodes like that all the time. I think we really need to get her into counseling. Or therapy,” her mother said, shaking her head, explaining the situation to yet other guests.

The guests all tried to duck away from this conversation, growing uncomfortable. Emily could hear their thoughts; knew they wanted nothing to do with any of this. Disgust and rage welled up in the heart of Iron Emily, who silently and invisibly watched this unfold.

Foreign memories and minds broadcast their thoughts into her own consciousness; it was the only explanation. She couldn’t just be imagining this.

“You can change this,” Stinky Jim said from behind Iron Emily. He chortled, smoky and sinister. “You can make her pay.”

“For what?” Iron Emily asked. “She’s not all wrong.”

Stinky Jim cackled, “Oh, just wait, then. It’s going to get even better now.”

The guests were not impressed. Emily’s mom didn’t seem to understand that those nearby just wanted this awkward situation to end. They would nod and smile but those smiles were strained and their participation and compassion feigned. Some of them wanted to leave the party.

“She talked her older sister out of her relationship with her boyfriend and into lesbianism,” her mother lied, shaking her head with a theatrical sigh.

“The fuck,” Iron Emily growled. Her teeth screeched like a fork on the chalkboard as she ground them together as a result of the anger welling up in her gut.

Stinky Jim’s cackling erupted into full-blown laughter.

“She wasn’t even twelve years old when she started shoplifting. And that was after we caught her stealing toys from other kids. We did all we could, but she just—she never listens. There’s only so much you can do to raise a kid right, right?” her mother lied.

She kept inventing things to make Emily look bad and garner pity from her friends. Those same friends averted their eyes, exchanged nervous glances, and paid less and less attention to her; not engaging and only causing Emily’s mother to pile more and more brazen lies on top.

“She stole our car when she could barely reach the gas pedals and gave us quite the headache when we had to foot the bill for repairs.”

“The police brought her home one night and let her off easy, you know how it is.”

“I think she tried heroin.”

Stinky Jim’s laughter swelled to ever greater volume each time she lied about misdeeds Emily never committed. All the while, Iron Emily’s insides boiled. She refused to let the rage take control any longer. What if her mind could slice through space and time and change this? Stop this bullshit? But what if that obliterated her mother’s mind? The minds of her guests? Her morals clashed with her wrath.

“You have sworn to expose the truth. You could do that right here and now if you put your mind to it. You have real power now. Even greater power than you’re willing to embrace. You can punish liars. Just gotta use your head,” Stinky Jim said, egging Iron Emily on. He stoked the fires of wrath in the depth of her being. Part of her wanted to give in and test the limitations of her power; wanted to make her mom pay for doing this.

But Iron Emily gathered herself. Breathed. Focused. Took control over the rage. Just like the old homeless man told her to. She wanted so badly to lash out, but she had to get out of this. She remembered where she truly was: inside the fiery maze. Not in this moment.

She would let it slide. The realities of future times slid into being, overlapping and overlaying this scenery.

Nowadays, Emily visited her mother regularly. Mom would talk about conspiracy theories after her long combined shifts of dog sitting, working at her backwater supermarket, and work in a retirement home. Emily would take the time to debunk or confirm whatever nonsense she had picked up from the yellow press and Facebook.

Maybe their relationship would transform, now that Iron Emily knew of this day and what horrible things her mother had said about her in her absence. Still, she wondered if any of this was even real.

Stinky Jim laughed and didn’t even need to say anything.

Iron Emily knew this was real. Realities clashing, connecting; she stood in an intersection of worlds.

The imagery faded away like smoke being dragged away by a gust of wind. As it cleared, only more imagery unfolded beyond it: places Emily had never been. Moments of minds that never reached her, thoughts that bounced around in her skull.

Her mom sat alone in the glow of a TV set in a dark room, when Emily’s exposé on the human trafficking ring aired on national television. She sat up in surprise when she saw Emily on screen, personally delivering some statements, followed by voice-over narration for the segment.

Surprise. Pride. Mom was proud of her now. She cried tears of joy and she was proud of what her little girl had become: exposing those monsters, cracking the veil wide open and revealing those injustices for all to see. She wiped her tears and could not stop listening and watching. The content of the exposé upset her; learning of the personal fates of individual victims—such as Tran—caused her mother to feel sick. But above all the emotional upheaval lingered a profound happiness and pride over her daughter’s accomplishment.

Not only her mother felt this way. As the fiery winds carried embers and whisked away these images as well, they revealed a room in which her father, Sean, sat on the couch next to his second wife, Christine. They, too, watched TV and saw the same exposé airing on national TV.

He stared into the glow of the device, wide-eyed and surprised. His mind swam in the same place: proud of his daughter’s achievement. Sean also regretted how little contact they still had and for the first time in his life, realized how much of that had been on him.

By contrast, Christine’s thoughts circled in different, darker places. She saw Emily’s success on clear display on the television and only wondered how she could help her biological daughter to be more successful than Emily. These pieces of thoughts and feelings did not just reach Emily’s being like spoken words, intercepted by her mind, but they took more tangible forms.

Stinky Jim’s laughter had long gone silent. Though Iron Emily felt his presence, his quiet only spelled out a tense anticipation. A curiosity. Emily stood on the precipice of discovering something new, and the demon of madness could hardly wait to see her experience that breakthrough.

She tasted Christine’s personal vice. Sour and bitter and artificial and unsatisfying, like sucking on a piece of plastic-covered cardboard. Christine’s pride burned brightly, and Emily tasted it as clearly as the aftertaste of coffee and cigarettes clinging to her tongue.

Christine got up in a huff and switched the TV off.

“Enough of that,” she told Sean.

“What if you could burn that nonsense right out of her?” asked Stinky Jim.

Iron Emily shook her head and shut her eyes.

Smoke and fire tore through this memory, tearing Emily away from the insights it delivered. When she opened her eyes again, the memories of her parents had made way for the inferno of the labyrinth once more. Iron Emily had seen enough, anyway. Daddy, for whom she was never good enough, was proud of her. She dismissed the spark of defiance that threatened to arise in her, and decided to embrace this little victory for what it was. She would hold onto that.

Emily could have touched their minds, changed their being, but decided against it.

The smoke billowed past her and violent winds fought her progression. Still she continued on, one deliberate step after another. Every time, the heat threatened to melt her, she forced her legs to lift and take another step, yet again.

“You’re not special,” said the demon behind her. “You’re no better than anybody else, sitting on your high horse. You and your stupid moral high grounds. Fictions you cling onto to make yourself feel better when all you’re doing is looking down on the rest of the shit-stains that populate the world around you. You probably think you’re so great for not using your newfound mojo, not reaching into their petty little human minds and wrenching around in there. So noble I could puke. So responsible. But let’s see just how long that lasts.”

With a thunderclap, a torrent of flames exploded outwards, cascading through the maze’s corridors towards Emily. She braced herself, leaning into the massive weight of her iron body. She clutched her hand in front of her—the iron gauntlet—it pierced her mind, cutting through every thought when she closed her eyes. Always there, even when she tried not to think about it. Now shielding her from these infernal forces.

The maze took her to another place.

“Let’s see who you really are when you stare into the abyss,” growled the demon.

After a double take, Iron Emily knew she stood in Starkford Penitentiary. A different part of it; a section she had never seen with her own two eyes—the mess hall where the inmates ate.

Kathryn Shaw sat in between other women, all of them dressed in their bright orange jumpsuits. The woman who had murdered Julian with a two-by-four. She ate from her tray, stuffing her face; a face deformed by too much plastic surgery.

Julian’s murderer didn’t look like she had aged a day. Iron Emily realized that this must have been some time after she had gone to the prison to get answers from Kathryn. Probably a good deal after, or she would have still been a sporting a black eye or two from when Emily lost her mind and attacked her.

Iron Emily cringed as a sea of thoughts and emotions crashed in on her from every direction. The minds of all the inmates and guards here washed over her, drowning her in waves of despair and contempt and surrender and negativity. The tempest of emotions clouded her with such intensity that her own rage towards Kathryn Shaw had no room to well up again.

“You know you can do more than just read minds, right? You can reach into them and clutch. Grab. Tear. Squeeze. Rend,” said the demon. His growls came through gritted teeth. Emily could hear the sadistic grin growing on his face without even looking at him. “You can kill with a thought, little girl. Just think hard enough and focus your mind like a blade. One precise thought, sharp like a guillotine’s edge. That’s all it takes.”

Iron Emily focused. The world froze for a split second and she pushed all the thoughts back. The chatter, like a million radios running different programs all at the same time, all went silent. Even Stinky Jim choked, unable to taunt her any more for now. All minds blocked out at once—all but one. The screech of microphone feedback died down and all she heard was a faint whisper, coming from Kathryn’s direction. The only thoughts Emily was curious about now.

Sadness.

It hit her like a truck, overwhelming her senses, making her light-headed and dizzy. Iron Emily didn’t feel tethered in place by her iron body at all any more, rather as light as a feather, like she teetered back and forth and nearly fell down.

Stinky Jim’s claws gingerly clutched her by her shoulders and helped her stay standing.

“Why would I kill her now?” Emily asked. It took her a moment until it dawned on her: the same sadistic grin she sensed to be forming on the demon’s maw was now plastered across her own lips. “She’s right where she belongs. Getting what she fucking deserves. Rotting in prison for the rest of her life. Justice isn’t served if I kill her now. Being a husk and withering away in prison would be the right punishment for this crazy bitch. Fuck her.”

The sadness made way to imagery. Emily could see the movie playing in Kathryn’s mind; glimpses of her own little world. A bizarre fantasy that defied all semblance of reality.

Full-on delusions. Kathryn saw herself getting out of prison soon. She had fooled herself into thinking she was some sort of A-list celebrity. Had all the famous directors lined up, ready to talk to her once she was out of here. She would be even more famous than before going into the slammer. Her private army of lawyers would get her out long before she had served her full sentence. Make a mint off of an autobiography book deal, too.

Julian wasn’t dead in Kathryn’s little fantasy world, either. Part of why she’d get out so easily.

Sure, none of it was real. But Kathryn believed it with all her heart and soul.

Stinky Jim roared with laughter.

“Justice, huh? Ten years later, she’ll still be happy in her blissful little make-believe castle. And where will you be?” he asked, egging her on. “Kill her, killer. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Emily rocked back and forth in the padded cell. Iron Emily screamed and willed that image away. Nobody in the mess hall heard the scream. They just carried on with their lives, lips smacking as they ate the slop served up as meals.

“Fuck this. And fuck you, Stinky Jim. Killing Kathryn serves no one,” Iron Emily cursed. The inner fire of defiance exploded outwards, wreathed her in fire. She spoke in multiple menacing voices when she added, “I am being reborn now. And this is what I was meant to do—reveal the truth.”

Iron Emily focused. She breathed fire, like a dragon. Holding out her hand, the gauntlet around her fist was real. She unfurled her fingers, marveling at their claw-like shape. She focused harder, and the world breathed her, sucking her towards Kathryn, pulling her through a vortex of intertwining realities. Iron Emily stood behind Kathryn and reached into her mind with the gauntlet-clad hand.

She tasted the pride in Kathryn’s mind, for it tasted the same bitter disgusting plastic way that Christine’s vice shared. With the gauntlet, she gripped at the barriers inside of Kathryn’s brain with all her might—taking hold of the prison bars and expensive doors and beautiful illusions that Kathryn Shaw had erected around her core self to protect her mind from the horrors she had inflicted and the horror that she had become.

The gauntlet clenched shut into a fist. Crushed, shattering glass and mortar, bending steel like it was nothing. Iron Emily tore away at the walls of Kathryn’s delusions, peeling them back until Julian’s murderer could glimpse reality for just one moment.

She was here for murdering Julian Stone. She was serving a life sentence in Starkford Penitentiary. Her career was over. Her cell mate hated her. One of the cooks probably spit in her food. Her life was hell, and all of it was her own making.

Emily didn’t even need to construct these thoughts. They all came pouring in on their own, the stark and cruel weight of reality crashing inside like a lake flowing in through a breaking dam.

Kathryn’s fork dropped into her food tray. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. The harsh truths of the world outside the fantasy she had created caught up with her.

Iron Emily wept tears of fire and sealed the illusion again. Just a glimpse. Just enough to make her suffer for a brief moment. Just enough to make her pay. But it rang hollow. It gave Iron Emily no satisfaction. Kathryn’s evident suffering even filled Emily with a short pang of guilt. She shrugged it off and screamed into the void again, getting no response from anybody in the prison.

Only Stinky Jim responded—with more sadistic laughter. The inmates and guards all melted away, transforming into smoke and embers. They spiraled upwards until the fiery walls of the maze subsumed them all, and Iron Emily was surrounded by the inferno again.

“How the fuck was that better than killing her? You heartless bitch,” the demon said. “Can’t wait to see what crimes against humanity you’re capable of committing.”

Iron Emily ignored him and swiveled, struggling to find her way through the firestorm. Her heart beat faster when she gazed upon Blue Flame Emily, an unsteady beacon shining out from the center of the maze. The flames grew larger and obscured that vision, but Iron Emily had seen her clearly enough to know: she had gotten much closer. Halfway there.

She refused to be the Emily in that padded cell. She refused to give up now. Just thinking that, realizing that—it filled her with new vigor. Her soul flared up with newfound determination. The next steps she took to brave the maze came much easier; each one of them much lighter than the last.

She would make it. She would see what destiny had in store for her.

—Submitted by Wratts

[cheesesteak-horror]

No Delivery Dev Log #5 - Content Completion

Great news! No Delivery has just passed the content completion milestone!

This includes the implementation of all the features that will be seen in the full game, most of which include content for the story, visual assets, and the battle system. Some of which can be seen in the teaser below.

This project is largely inspired by Darkest Dungeon's roguelike and combat mechanics, and while not the focus of its battle system, the Mark mechanic was a very interesting status as it functioned less like an extension of elemental attributes and more about getting into the in-game role. And for those familiar with my previous games, you might notice that the Sugar Rush status is basically a combination of 2 statuses used in my previous games; the effect of putting the "evasion buff until hit" on the extra turn privilege creates higher stakes on decisions during encounters. This way, nearly every turn is a gamble if you don't prioritize removing the status effects first, but can also be a completely viable way to play if you choose a different strategy.

As for the rest of the story, you'll be running into all kinds of environments and unique combat encounters in both the pizzeria and Wrong Turns. As mentioned in previous dev logs, many of the design cues for the overworld and interaction are taken from Fromsoft's games, namely the Soulsborne games and more recently Sekiro. Despite releasing during development, Sekiro has a unique approach to item distribution and design as nearly everything is concisely meant to contribute to the core systems introduced in beginning. It's amazing to see how everything ties together, but on the flipside, it can be underwhelming to encounter nearly the same pool of items in different areas; and seeing as how No Delivery is very much an 'item-based' rpg, it was beneficial to look into item usage and the economies that can arise from that.

Development's been great working with both TheNGVirus and dRedder on the soundtrack, both really brought their A-game for this and gives the game an entirely new dimension to it. In great horror, sound is usually most of the experience and aside from the ambient hums and footsteps on different surfaces, a horrific moment or musical track leaves just as much of an impression.

By passing the last milestone on the way to completion, what's left now is the polishing phase, balancing encounters, and making sure everything's airtight for full release sometime near Spooktober if things fall into place!

If you'd like to get a physical cassette of the soundtrack, check out TheNGVirus on bandcamp!

Also check out dRedder on soundcloud!

And if you'd like to support development, get access to early builds and PSDs, consider supporting me Patreon or Ko-Fi!

https://twitter.com/horror_n_oates http://cheesesteak-horror.tumblr.com/ http://sonicboy112.deviantart.com

Got a question? Contact me at: oates.pixels@gmail.com

[multiphandomunnies]

Lullaby||Jiu

A/N: Aaand we’re back to our favorite leader! Please tell me your opinions and just enjoy this “calm before the storm” chapter. Check out the teaser for the next one in my masterlist!

Admin: Heather

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It all felt wrong. The Dreamworld always had this eerie atmosphere that made you feel uneasy, but now it seemed even more unsettling. Like the whole space was bracing itself and anticipating. What? You had no clue. But in current circumstances something was bound to happen.

A slender girl with flowy hair and serene features didn’t sound like a big threat. But her presence contributed to your worries. Yoohyeon was sitting on a chair with her eyes closed. Pastel colors of her clothes emphasized the peaceful physique. She had been in this catatonic state for a few days now, ever since Sua found her unconscious body. All details were unknown to you, because Handong was relentless in her “not doing shady nightmare stuff” policy. That’s why you had to do everything on your own.

“You don’t give up easily.” You stiffened, startled. No matter how many horrors you encountered, this voice always made you freeze.

“Jiu.” Almost without making a sound, the girl stood slightly behind you. Always keeping her distance while overpowering you effortlessly.

“I could have seen it coming. You seemed pretty shaken after the scene in the cafeteria.”

Her tone didn’t betray a single emotion. There was no way to guess what was going through her mind. You risked a quick glance in her direction. Her eyes were focused on Yoohyeon’s still form. Her hair turned black and one part was cut shorter. Only her expression didn’t change a bit. Still the same enigmatic and beautiful features.

“You don’t talk much.” Jiu’s gaze switched to you, taking you by surprise. What was even more unusual was the fact that you didn’t feel endangered like during every other conversation. Yes, it felt like she was reading your deepest thoughts, but her demeanor didn’t seem openly threatening.

“Don’t know what to say.” Maintaining eye contact was overwhelming, so you opted for watching Yoohyeon. “Everything happened so suddenly.”

“From your perspective at least.” You waited for some kind of continuation, but nothing came. Jiu always liked speaking in puzzles. Asking her directly wouldn’t get you anywhere and also seemed to be unreasonable. You had some kind of unspoken respect for Jiu. If she didn’t tell you, you wouldn’t ask.

You stood in silence and for some reason it felt right. It was a cathartic experience to stand in such close proximity to Jiu without planning an escape route. In other setting, her presence could be even considered soothing.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell her.”

This was unexpected. You looked at her again in question.

“If you’re talking about Chaeyoung, she’s not a part of this anymore.” You knew she was aware of the involvement of the short girl. Clarification on that matter could keep your friend safe. Even if you two weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

“Not her.” She turned her head in your direction. “Handong.”

“Oh.” Of course Handong made sure to let everyone know you weren’t welcome in Dreamworld. “Thank you, that’s very nice of-“

You didn’t get to finish expressing your gratitude. You looked at your phone and checked the time. Still an hour left, you could sleep a bit more and maybe even talk to Jiu. Fortunately, you fell asleep as soon as you closed your eyes. What you weren’t expecting was to wake up after an hour of dreamless sleep.

 Looking like a creepy stalker was the last thing you cared about. You couldn’t stop observing Jiu, who was standing by her locker and talking with Sua. None of the girls seemed to notice your burning gaze or they were ignoring your whole existence. It’s been two days since your last visit in Dreamworld and it drove you insane. It was obvious that while Jiu assured that she won’t tell Handong, she also made sure to block you from entering their dimension in any way.

“It wasn’t always like this.”

You looked around to find the source of the voice, but no one was even looking in your direction. Maybe you accidently overheard someone’s conversation. Or you were going crazy from inability to learn more about Yoohyeon’s situation. What the hell happened to her?

“It was an accident.”

Again, searching for the person speaking was fruitless. Maybe you really were insane.

“She didn’t mean to.”

“Who is she? And what did she do?” you muttered under your breath to avoid weird looks. No one answered. Of course, you were imagining things again. And you couldn’t even seek for answers in Dreamworld.

“No one is safe.”

You knew that voice.

“Time is running out.”

You knew it too well.

“Run.”

Of course.

“Run.”

You turned your gaze up and bravely locked eyes with Jiu.

“Tik tok.”

Someone slammed their locker door and you jumped at the sudden noise. When you calmed down, Jiu and Sua were gone and Chaeyoung stood next to their previous spot with a frown on her face. You composed yourself and made your way towards the classroom. After you were sure Chaeyoung couldn’t see you anymore, you changed track and bolted to the exit. You had a mission to accomplish.

The sole idea of being alone in the mansion should seem repulsive. But truth be told, you didn’t feel scared anymore. Sure, the hallways were dark and kind of eerie looking. Even though you couldn’t help but remember everything that happened in the last couple weeks. You’ve been through so much because of this place. You came here for answers and you will get them. No matter what happens. You just had to avoid the girls and not get into trouble. Simple.

Finding Dong-hyuk’s working room took you less time than before. Unfortunately, a big part of his evidence was taken by Chaeyoung last time you were here and there was no way in hell or heaven that you would ask her for these notes. You had to work with whatever was left. The first thing that caught your attention was a stack of old looking papers, so you approached it without much hope. To be honest, research was never your strong point. You were much less organized than Chaeyoung and could never make notes as neat as hers. Of course, you were able to do some basic review of gathered information, but it required much focus.

“Damn!” you yelped after the books you accidentally knocked from the table hit the floor with a loud thud. You kneeled down to pick them up, cursing your clumsiness. When you were standing back up, you got startled again. Handong’s face appeared in the mirror and her eyes scanned the room.

“Y/N?” her tone made you wince. It was clear she was dead serious and nothing could redeem you if she noticed you were here. Disregarding her warnings would shatter the fragile bit of trust she offered you, which would ruin the progress you made in your case. So you slid behind an armchair without standing up to stay away from her vision.

“Y/N, I know you’re here.” Handong didn’t sound irritated, more exhausted. “Please just go home. It’s not safe for you.”

You felt a pang of guilt. As much as you kept stating that her concern was just a plan to make you let your guard down, you couldn’t push away the feeling of attachment. It probably meant you were setting yourself for a heartbreak, but Handong just had this effect on you.

“As long as we have each other.”

That was NOT Handong’s voice. It resonated in your head like a secret message meant only for your ears. Not as much as by the lockers when you could swear Jiu was the one messing with you.

“This is not a game.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You thought and started looking for a way out. Waiting for Handong to go away could take a lot of time and you couldn’t waste any more minutes. Then you noticed that another mirror was right behind you. You didn’t know how long would it take for Handong to move from one mirror to another, but covering as many as you could was the safest bet. You took your jacket off quietly and placed in on the object.

“Time is running out.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Maybe talking to the nonexistent voice bordered on insanity, but it couldn’t be that bad if you did it inside your head.

You risked a peek from behind the armchair. Handong was still there looking around like a hawk. You had to make her change position. So you decided to use your biggest strength – destruction. Moving to the left, you nudged a tall flowerpot to make it fall. A loud crash of shattered ceramic startled the girl in the mirror.

“Y/N?!” she inquired and tried to take a better look. You got ready behind the armchair and waited. Finally, she disappeared and you could hear a confused gasp from another side of the room. That was your cue to run. You bolted out of the room and sprinted down the hallway, trying to avoid any reflective surfaces.

“Running won’t save you.”

She was probably right, but that didn’t make you stop.

“Why would you do that?”

That or getting scolded by an angry, attractive nightmare lady. Wasn’t hard to choose.

“I’m sorry.”

What?

“I couldn’t protect you.”

What was she talking about?

”I’ll wait for you.”

Was she even talking to you?

“I’ll fight for you.”

Probably not.

“Get out.”

That was some serious case of mixed signals.

“GET OUT!”

No.

“Leave us alone!”

Too late for that.

“Fine.”

Fine.

…

And then she turned silent. You stopped and leaned against the wall panting. Your mind was racing and heart pounding way to fast. Putting the pieces of your mind conversation gave you a headache. It didn’t seem like the person was talking to you. She seemed angry, frustrated and miserable. But also her words had some kind of vulnerability to them. Maybe even remorse.

“Are you in here?” you tried to contact the voice with your thoughts, but it didn’t work. To be honest, you didn’t expect it to.

Quick observation let you know that you were currently near the main staircase, right above the big door. If anything happened, you had an easy way out. There weren’t any mirrors nearby, so Handong couldn’t get you. The downside was that you had no way to go back to the research room and get the notes or your jacket before leaving. There had to be some other-

“Where are you?”

You turned around and saw a girl standing right next to the you and looking down on the ground floor. Wait.. not any girl.

“Yoohyeon?” the words left your mouth without a second thought, but she didn’t seem to hear them. She hurried down the stairs and you had no other option than to follow her.

It was jarring to see her like this, smiling brightly and dressed in a colorful outfit after witnessing her in the catatonic state with no discernible face expression. Yoohyeon skipped through the rooms and you couldn’t help, but notice the change in your surroundings. There was no sign of passed time on any furniture. The sun was shining through the colorful curtains, covering everything with a warm hue. You followed the carefree girl and tried to remember as many details as possible. The manor didn’t seem chilling anymore. It felt like home.

Yoohyeon stopped in front of another girl, dressed in a matching outfit. A uniform maybe? The girl turned to her with a flip of red hair and your breath stopped for a moment. It was Jiu, but at the same time not Jiu at all. You knew her as a powerful, mysterious leader of the nightmare bunch. In front of you however was a bright girl, looking at her friend with sparkling eyes.

“Come on!” Yoohyeon rushed her playfully. “Bora made lunch.” She took Jiu’s hand and ran away with her. It took you a while to get over the bizarre sight. Were you in an alternative universe or something? There was no other explanation for what just happened. Jiu’s laughter, one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard by the way, echoed through the hallway. You watched her disappear around the corner and headed in that direction.

The table in the dining room was laid for seven people and two seats were already occupied. You saw Handong talking to a girl you didn’t recognize. Their voices were quiet, but that didn’t seem out of character for either of them and the soft smiles let you know that they cared for each other deeply.

“Coming through!” A small, cute girl crashed into someone you recognized as Siyeon. It was hard to identify her without a piercing stare and that dangerous smirk of hers. Her eyes turned into narrow creases when she smiled at her friend giving her a back hug. The scene was so heartwarming and weird at the same time. What was going on here?

“Singnie cuddle pile!” an all too familiar voice cheered right next to your ear and Bora darted past you to jump on Siyeon from the front. The girl grunted and tried to look displeased, but her grin betrayed her. Jiu leaned her chin on the top of Handong’s head and a warm smile spread on her face. She looked so peaceful. But wait-

“Y/N!”

Where was Yoohyeon?

“Y/N!” Jiu dragged you by the hand and ran through the halls. You blinked a couple times in confusion. She wasn’t in her uniform anymore and her hair was black again.

“Jiu?” Dumb question, of course it was her. “What is going on?”

“Run!” she called and picked up her pace. You had to admit, she was fast for someone running in a chic suit. Only Jiu can probably pull that off.

She led you through the corridors without stopping even once. Surprisingly, that didn’t bother you at all. Maybe you got fit? No, you probably never left the Dreamworld in the first place. More probable. But how could that happen? Did this place had layers or something? Or like different dimensions? You should have seen that coming probably, but it didn’t change the fact that it was weird to experience it firsthand.

Jiu turned suddenly and almost made you lose your balance. You stumbled a bit, struggling to keep up with her. Especially, that she clearly knew where she was going and you had no idea how to navigate through the dark halls. Somehow, everything got even more shadowy. Or maybe it was just the contrast with previous setting. You were already starting to miss the happy Jiu. She was so bright and looking like sunshine embodied. This Jiu had this dark aura that made you intimidated, but also was extremely captivating. She was like a black blooming rose-

And then she smashed the mirror.

“Don’t stop!” she commanded and continued running. Trying not to trip on the broken glass, you followed her slightly taken aback. Why did she break it?

Another crash could be heard as Jiu slammed her fist into the next mirror, slowing down only a bit. She did that a couple times more and it made you a bit concerned. Could that hurt her? It was a dream, but did that matter? And what about Handong? What if she was in the mirror in that moment?

“Why are you doing this?” you winced after another smash. “Is this about Handong?”

Jiu let out a little dry chuckle and stopped.

“Handong is not a problem, Y/N.” she looked around and her eyes narrowed. “Go downstairs.”

“What about you?”

“Just go.” She ordered and resumed her sprint. You wouldn’t dare disobeying her, so you descended the stairs and moved forwards. What were you supposed to do now? Leave the building? Get help? Stay there?

You decided to keep moving and think later. Maybe some inspiration would strike you without any warning. Hopefully, only inspiration.

The mansion was back to its unwelcoming nature. But you could swear that it seemed even more hostile and dark than before. It seemed like whatever was going on with Yoohyeon, made everything go deeper into the nightmare. And Jiu was probably trying to stop that. At least you hoped so.

You passed the dining room and looked at the table. It looked horrible without the happy crowd surrounding it. The absence of girls made this place void of any happiness and colors. The only thing left was emptiness. Hollow and dark silence that couldn’t be filled with anything. Not wanting to get into a funk, you turned around only to notice Yoohyeon walking through the corridor. You looked back at the table. None of the girls seemed to notice her absence, all caught up in their carefree world. Yoohyeon cast a quick glance behind and started walking faster.

You followed her back to the place when she found Jiu. She was kneeling in front of a jar and looking at it with curiosity. After a close look, you noticed a white spider sitting in the glass container. Yoohyeon tapped the wall a little and looked in the direction of others again. No one went after her.

“Why did you do that?”

The voice took you by surprise, but didn’t make you take your eyes off Yoohyeon. Something seemed wrong and you wanted to know what was she going to do.

“It all started here.”

A smirk ghosted Yoohyeon’s face, but it didn’t look like her previous smile. It was more mischievous than cheerful. She looked like a child wanting to cause some trouble.

“Such a small thing.”

She took the magnifying glass from behind her back and put it up, turning it to find the best angle. Was she trying to… No it was impossible. Right?

“It was a mistake”

A small cloud of smoke started rising from the jar as the sun rays illuminated the spider. Yoohyeon’s smile grew wider as the small creature burned in its glass prison.

“We still pay the price.”

After finishing her job, Yoohyeon got up and hid the magnifying glass in one of the drawers. Then she turned towards the dining room with the same weird smile. It lasted only for a second before fading back to her bright grin.

“Help us.”

You were staring at the table in stunned silence. Everything was back to normal. There was no jar, no Yoohyeon, no spider. Just an old piece of furniture.

“So now you know.” Even though you should have expected her, you still jumped a bit.

“Did you show me this?” you asked and turned to face her. Jiu nodded.

“You deserve to know the truth. And you were determined to learn it no matter the consequences.”

She had a point. Still, the fact that Jiu made effort to help you learn this vital piece of information was astonishing. Almost like two made some progress together.

“That’s why Yoohyeon is… like that.” The girl sighed and looked at the table. Pain ghosted her face as she nodded.

“The curse, our curse started here.” She explained. “When Yoohyeon burned my spider.”

That made some sense. Yoohyeon didn’t look like herself at that moment. She could have been possessed and started this whole mess that you got tangled in for some reason. And now she was immobilized in the mansion.

“You wanted me to come here?” you had to know. “I heard your voice in school. It sounded like a call for help.

Jiu looked conflicted. As if she was judging whether to trust you or not. The slight hesitation made her seem a little bit more human. She was afraid of making a mistake. She couldn’t let anything happen again.

“Y/N, the Dreamworld is a very complex place.” She started and you nodded slowly. “You encountered me three times today.”

“Was all of them you?” that sounded a bit odd, but there was no other way to word it. Jiu seemed to understand your intention.

“The first one was just a memory. A shadow of the past, sealed in the passed time. You couldn’t change anything there, it’s just a projection.”

“Like a flashback?” Something similar to approval shone in Jiu’s eyes. It made you feel warm inside.

“Exactly. Then we were in Dreamworld.”

“Running through the hallways.” You interrupted. “But something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel the same way like before.”

You didn’t mention that “before” meant the times where she chased you through the same mansion you were in now. It seemed like eternity passed since these days. Back then it was just a strange dream that kept returning.

“Our first encounter was in your dream.” Jiu tapped her fingers on the small table. “I just entered it like we do with many people.”

“Why?” It may have been an insensitive question, but you really wanted to understand. Jiu smiled a little.

“It’s what we do, Y/N. That’s just who we are.”

“That the point!” you exclaimed and quickly calmed down. “Who are you?

The girl glanced away from you. The conflicted expression returned to her features. You prayed she would actually explain everything.

“We are nightmares.” You knew that part already, but you didn’t interrupt. “When Yoohyeon killed an innocent creature… we all had to pay for that. It’s our curse.”

“But you are here. So you have to be mortal right?”

Jiu tilted her head a bit.

“Kind of.” She sighed. “We don’t have the time for details, Y/N and it’s better for you not to know too much.”

Of course. All of this again. Everyone had to protect the poor, little Y/N from evil. Well, it was too late for that. You were in this, whether they wanted it or not. And you weren’t going to give up.

“How can I help you if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

“You can’t help us.” Jiu tried to sound firm, but her voice shook a little. This whole situation was a huge weight for her. “Just like I couldn’t help her.”

That was when you got it. Jiu felt guilty. For not stopping Yoohyeon, not protecting her, not stopping the curse and becoming a nightmare. She wanted to fix this, to save everyone and finally forgive herself.

“But I want to.” You looked her in the eye. “I want to help you, Jiu. All of you.”

She looked at you without any ice in her glare. She seemed as exhausted and terrified as you, but was way better at hiding it. The girls needed your help and you wanted to solve this case and bring them peace. Finish something that Dong-hyuk couldn’t.

“Oh, one more thing.” You added. “What happened to that investigator.”

Jiu’s gaze hardened and you stiffened a bit.

“He wanted to learn about our curse and make us disappear for his own benefit.” She spat. “But it was a huge mistake on his part. He caused us a lot of trouble, though. Capturing Sua, sending those freaks after Siyeon and Yoohyeon.”

“He did all of this?” you were shocked. Suddenly it felt wrong to compare yourself to that guy. He was ruthless and only wanted to gain something from the girls’ tragedy.

“Yes. But we got rid of him pretty quickly.” She smiled. “And gained enough power to switch places with him.”

You didn’t want to ask for details now, but made a mental note to keep this question for later.

“Can I take his papers?” you asked carefully. “It could save me a lot of work.”

Jiu raised her brows subtly.

“I thought your friend took everything.”

Mentioning Chaeyoung made your heart sting a little. You still had to make things right with her and it was eating you from the inside. Jiu noticed that and motioned for you to go and collect whatever you needed.

You entered the room and quickly gathered everything and put it in your backpack. Nothing was left and the room looked much better without the papers laying around. On your way out, you noticed the jacket draped across the mirror. Thankfully, Handong wasn’t waiting under it to give you a piece of her mind.

Jiu was still in the hallway when you came back. She was looking through a window at the setting sun. You stood next to her, not sure what to do.

“Did you get everything?” she asked without looking at you. You patted your packed bag.

“I think so.” You were once again left together in silence and for some reason it felt right. Maybe Jiu was warming up a little. “I want to help you, Jiu, I really-

“Minji.” She interrupted and turned her eyes to you.

“Excuse me?” you whispered in surprise. Your heart started fluttering under her gaze.

“My name is Minji.” She repeated and moved her eyes back at the window.

You also looked in that direction with a familiar warmth spreading on your cheeks. Yes, Jiu- Minji was definitely warming up a little.

[melothesia]

According to plan - chapter 2

Here’s chapter two... with Ross’ POV. Sorry for my English...

Everett Ross wonders why everything happens to him. This was supposed to be an easy mission, but the presence of the king of Wakanda is a clear sign that things are going to get messy, he can feel that. Not to mention that the man is a considerable distraction.

Stop thinking that he looks way better than James Bond in that suit, he tells himself with an annoyed sigh, while he checks his watch, and focus on the fact that Klaue should have arrived fifteen minutes ago!

As if on cue, the man steps into the casino like he owns the place and Everett cannot but give T’Challa an amused look before taking a deep breath and heading to greet the arm dealer.

“This is quite the entourage.” he says with a grin as he shakes hands with Klaue “You got a mixtape coming out?"

"Yeah, actually, I'll send you the link."

“That won’t be necessary. Please, don’t make me listen to your music.”

“You wound me.” the arm dealer cries out, clutching at his chest theatrically “I’m a very sensitive creature and I'll let you know that I have an amazing taste in music... and in other things as well.”

“I'm sure you do. Can we please get on with the exchange?”

“Why the hurry? At least, let me buy you a drink… good company is so hard to find these days, don’t you agree?” Klaue says with a smug chuckle as he slings a meaty arm around Everett’s neck.

The agent tries to dislodge it with a little shrug, but the criminal only tightens his hold so Everett sighs, wondering if he could use his briefcase to hit him in the face. That would probably sour the deal, but the crunching sound of the other man’s nose as it breaks would definitely be very satisfying.

“I’d like to know you better, I’m sure we could have a lot of fun together… if you catch my drift.”

Good Lord, did Klaue just wink at me? The CIA agent tries his best not to cringe at the thought, seriously, what is that creep trying to accomplish?

His gaze flicks towards T’Challa standing at the bar with a glass in his hand, expecting to find the man laughing at his predicament. But the king looks incredibly sober and his intense gaze is something that takes him by surprise. If looks could kill, by now Klaue would be a pile of dust on the floor… or is he just pissed at me because I told him he can't take the arm dealer back to Wakanda? Everett knows that he should avert his eyes before Klaue could notice the other man. T’Challa looks ready to pounce, though, so the agent risks a single shake of his head, hoping that the movement is going to be enough to keep the man from meddling.

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m a very boring person.” he replies pleasantly enough, choosing to deliberately ignore the terrible pick-up line as he focuses back on Klaue. “Not fun at all.”

“I'm pretty sure that you underestimate yourself… whoever steps into a South Korean casino carrying a briefcase full of diamonds, most definitely has an interesting story to tell… so are you here by yourself or do you have a partner?”

“Klaue, the vibranium” he reminds the man with a little smile that tries not to let his impatience on. "Let’s get back to the vibranium, shall we?"

“All right my friend, no need to get your panties in a twist … after all, can you really blame someone for trying to spend a few more minutes in your company?” He says as he begins to unzip his trousers with a lewd grin, making quite a display of reaching inside for something.

What the- oh, the vibranium! Because, of course, the vibranium is actually hidden inside Klaue’s trousers, how silly of him not to have taken that possibility into consideration. First Zemo, then Berlin and now this psycho… is it a boring mission not involving insane supervillains too much to ask?

Snickering at the look of disgust on his face, the arm dealer places the chunk of metal on a nearby gaming table with a satisfied smirk.

“You really couldn’t find some time to devise a better case, could you?”

“What do you want me to say... I live to impress!”

“Right.” Everett sighs and tries to hand him the briefcase with the diamonds, but he gets ignored by the other man who continues to stare intently at him "Well, it’s been a real pleasure doing business with you, I guess…”

“How about that drink you promised me?”

“I’m not really thirsty and as much as I’d love to spend more time with you, my flight leaves in two hours so I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check until we meet again.”

“No, no, no, Cinderella, what’s the hurry?” Klaue shakes his head while he grips Everett’s arm, and for the first time the agent feels a cold shiver of unease along his spine. The criminal leans forward and there is something in his gaze that reminds him of a snake ready to strike. “Midnight is still sooo far away… so why do you want to leave the ball so soon? After all, that suit looks very pretty on you agent Ross, don't you think it would be a pity to ruin it?”

Everett almost, ALMOST, rolls his eyes even as he realizes that his cover has just been blown to pieces. Should he bother to deny Klaue’s claim? Probably not. Could he reach for his gun without getting shot? With his left arm trapped in the criminal's grip and the other hand still holding the case with the diamonds, the odds are definitely not in his favour.

“How do you know who I am?”

“What, you don't even try to talk your way out of this?” Klaue clicks his tongue as his hand slowly caresses Ross’ arm up and down “I admit I am disappointed. I was expecting some creative obfuscation that would explain the presence of king T’Challa in Jagalchi.”

Everett shrugs.

“Would you believe me if I told you he’s my lover?”

The hand on his arm slides down his suit to clamp around his wrist, twisting it with so much force that the agent sees stars.

“You’re a funny man, Everett Ross… now I see why my associate is so eager to meet you.”

Everett shudders at the crazy, shark-like smile, wondering how things have managed to go to hell so quickly. I shouldn’t have underestimated him, he thinks, but there was no indication in the files they gave me of a second person's involvement.

“And who might this associate be?”

“Oh dear, oh dear, we shall be too late…” Klaue pretends to check the expensive-looking watch on his wrist “our carriage awaits us, so let's make haste before it turns into a pumpkin.”

“Do you really think that I’ll go without a fight?”

“And I would expect nothing less from you, sweetheart, but allow me to say one thing to try and settle this peacefully. There are several men under my command in this room… you’re a spy, I’m sure you can easily spot them.”

Everett’s eyes widen in horror. Klaue sniggers then he steps so close that, for a split second, the agent is afraid that he's going to kiss him, but the arm dealer just leans close enough to whisper into his ear.

"You try to warn your precious king T’Challa and I kill him… you refuse to come with me and I give the order to start gunning down everyone in this casino starting from him… now you see why you have to shut your mouth and follow me, don’t you?”