#there’s just something so fucked up about a interdimensional being that knows your specific fears and insecurities!

[caifanes]

ok why is s2 of fantasy high genuinely terrifying

[cerberus253]

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size. 

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way. 

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute. 

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired. 

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic. 

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood. 

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers  

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters. 

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories. 

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’ 

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good. 

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake. 

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off  “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village. 

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right” 

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor. 

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho. 

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story. 

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

[albatris]

Hello hope you're well on this Saturday may I ask what the deepest fears of each of the ATDAO cast members is, thank you and goodnight

oh you’re just gonna dive right in with the hard-hitting questions I see

thank you for the ask!!

under the cut because rambles, of course, I literally do not know how to be concise I’m so sorry, you probably already knew this was coming HAHAHA

Tris’s deepest fear aside from Literally Everything In The Universe would be uhhhhh....... being somehow responsible for harm coming to the people he cares about? either directly or indirectly. I think on a big scale the whole concept of the butterfly effect stresses him out hahaha. on a small scale, he spends a lot of time stressing about his friends and family, he has a lot of intrusive thoughts about what horrible things could potentially happen to them, he worries about accidentally hurting them, etc. etc.

n I haven’t really talked in depth all that much about the specifics of Tris’s psychosis, but there’s definitely aspects of it that become pretty intense and aggressive in terms of commands and orders and “some terrible and/or violent thing will happen to your friend / sister / neighbour if you don’t do this thing”, lots of prickly parts of it that like to make threats to his safety and the safety of the people around him if he attempts to ignore or resist them. so even on good days he’s got this constant background-hum anxiety that if he chooses to disobey something or if he misinterprets a sign or if he steps out of line, his loved ones are going to be punished for it, which is just.............. a lot

a fear of helplessness and a lack of control also factors into it, like, ever since he was very very very small he’s had this idea ingrained that you can do literally everything right and the universe can still squash you like a bug at any second, n he had absolutely no way to even begin processing that in a healthy way so it just manifested in the fact that he pretty much only ever feels safe when he’s accounted for every tiny detail and is following very specific routines and has left as little room as possible for anything unexpected to catch him off guard. he’s got these rules and systems and rituals he clings to ‘cause they offer him some illusion of safety and control even though they kind of........ won’t actually do anything to stop the universe fucking his shit up

Noa’s is................. I’m not sure if “being left behind” really covers it

if we’re talking in a real broad big scale sense, I think it’s a fear of being forgotten or brushed over or not being seen, or more, people refusing to see her? it’s a fear of, like, fighting her hardest to make noise and be seen and the world just completely and utterly turning its back on her. she’s spent a whole lot of her life trying to carve out a space for herself and make her voice heard, n between illness and financial difficulties and a piece of shit dad, she and her mum have struggled to stay afloat in systems that have just consistently, consistently failed them and whose best advice is “just try harder” and “we can’t help you if you don’t help yourself”

and, like, Noa’s very full of rage about it and has made some restless peace with the fact that she has to look out for herself and the people she cares about, because no one in any position of power is gonna throw them a stick, but it’s not something she’s comfortable with and it’s a horribly alienating and frightening experience

n I guess a fear of being left behind does play out on an interpersonal level too, though it’s not really in the same vein as the other stuff? I’ve talked a lot in the past about how she’s resistant to people getting close to her ‘cause she’s got a lot of paranoia and fear and doesn’t wanna be vulnerable, but there’s also just............ a whole lot of impostor syndrome in the friendships she already has, she’s always on some level convinced that she’s somehow tricked people into liking her and one day they’re gonna wake up and realise she’s not all that special or that nice or that fun to be around. I don’t think she really views herself as someone who’s allowed to be loved just for who she is, or that “who she is” is someone who already has value or anything to bring to the table in terms of friendship

Shara’s deepest fear is the idea that there really is Absolutely No Meaning To Any Of This

that the universe is all just chaos with no purpose and no direction, that there are no bigger forces at play, that there’s nothing good and right and loving at the centre of it all, that it’s all just chance and machinery and completely unfeeling

I think one of the main ways she processes the world and is able to feel safe given the collapsing nature of reality is her desperate and adamant belief that There Has To Be An Answer, that it’s all something that can be untangled and solved, and that if she can manage to figure it out then she’ll be able to make some peace with it and things will make sense again

there’s a lot of stuff from her past that she has no real closure for, particularly the loss of one of her close childhood friends as a result of some unfortunate interdimensional fuckery, and she’s still trying to sort out her feelings about it and find a way to live her life in relation to it, she’s still trying to find a way that something so cruel can make sense

Kai has............................ a lot of fear. many many fear. I will not talk about all of it. I will talk about two of it

one of the main ones is this idea that the only reason they try so hard to care so much and help people and have a positive impact on the people around them is because deep down they don’t actually care at all, that they’ve kind of just fooled everyone into thinking they’re a good person when in reality they’re the worst, they’re a liar and a fraud

which is just kind of......... I mean, they’re not really someone who’s ever considered their own mental health at length so they haven’t really got any point of reference for what’s happening to them post-time-loop, which is basically just. panic attacks, dissociative episodes, blacking out for days at a time, not recognising themself in the mirror, feeling completely numb, not even fully convinced that this is even real life. all very understandable reactions to what they’ve just been through

but definitely the thing that hits them the hardest is the fact that they can look at the people they’re supposed to love and care about and just not feel anything at all, which fuckin terrifies them. they spend a lot of time in crisis about it, feeling like they’re an actor trying to play the part of their own life, they’re doing what they think they’re supposed to but they’re just completely disconnected

(they eventually open up to Noa about it in a full breakdown and are like “I’m a terrible person” and she’s just like “you’re traumatised you fucking dumbass let’s get you some therapy”)

and on equal footing to this and one that deserves a mention is the fact that they’ve been psyching themself up to Go Back Home for the past year and then psyching themself out again, repeat x infinity. A Lot Fucking Changed in the years Kai was gone, and their family had a funeral for them and mourned them and had to deal with all the grief and the fallout of losing their sibling / child / family member and their mum broke down in a real bad way and they’ve all spent the past seven years trying to claw their way back to anything resembling a normal life

and Kai is kinda A) unsure whether it would be selfish of them to try and re-enter their lives now, whether it would be disruptive and confusing and more pain than it’s worth given how much work they’ve put into trying to move on and create a new normal and B) fucking terrified that they won’t even know these people anymore because they’ve all changed so much and Kai hasn’t, they’re not going to fit here or be welcome anymore, and that no matter how much they try to return to normal they’re never going to have a home again

and that is just

kind of a :( note to end on but here we are, at the end

thanks for coming to my ted talk?

!!! thank u for reading if you read this far in my rambling please have an excellent night

[lasttimeonthenegaverse]

The Life and Times of the Negaverse- part one

Back to Bright

Negaduck screamed as he was pulled down the universal drain. His hands gripped tightly the sloping sides of eternity and he struggled to escape the cake before it collapsed in on itself. He’d dealt with the multiverse collapsing in on itself before. Not a pretty picture. There was no way to note how much time was passing in non-existence before everything fixed itself and you woke up in your propper reality. ….. Yeah. He’d lied to Darkwing Dunce. Shocker. But the fact of the matter still remained that his beautiful Saint Canard was ruined . And now he had to deal with an actually competent team of super zeros. He managed to scramble out of the cake and jumped off. He hadn’t been launched out, which was a testament to how far gone it was. Pity. The slight concussion was always a nice warm welcome that said ‘hey honey, you’re home’. But for now….. Negaduck growled under his breath, standing back and watching as the cake twisted, turned, and finally folded into crimson light. Shit. He’d need to make another one of those soon. He left the back room to see. …. His beak curled back in disgust. Those preppy do gooders had cleaned the BAKERY! The absolute NERVE of some jokers. And there was no sign of LaunchPad or the Muddlefoots…...more importantly, Gos. When he found her he was gonna make her…..He blinked, trying to figure out what was wrong with his eyes as he left the building. But….the sun. How had they gotten rid of his precious smog clouds so quickly? He frowned, sensing the hand of someone much smarter than the ‘Featherbrained Four’ at work. Ugh. Grounded . That brat was GROUNDED the second he got his hands on her! Granted, Gos wasn’t the main problem here, but the main problem was a literal world away and right now he was tired and sore and didn’t feel like dealing with clawing his way back across interdimensional lines. They’d all show back up sooner or later. The heroes were too moronic to keep them for long. Instead of worrying he plotted as he stalked through the city.  The plants were flourishing thanks to that Buffon BushRoot. Liquidator the Lousy had made all the nice black water clean again. And worst of all MeekVolt had started the power everywhere. That’s probably what made the smog go. Uggghhhh, and the power being up meant that the disgusting dog was clearing all of the slime via the water filtration plant he’d never gotten around to blowing up. Time got a little weird with traveling through the fourth, fith, and sixth plane of existence. Let alone at the same time. It was kept stabilized by the cake, however that worked. It had been a ‘I’m too good for this world so notice me’ gift from Morgana. And it was probably the only spell she’d ever done right. But he was sure he could replicate it with science….and the right greased palm. Since the cake had gone funky near the end he could have been gone an hour, or a year.  He shouldn’t have been gone a year, but this looked like more damage than an hour. Then again, what had they called themselves ‘Darkwings Ducks’. Urgh. One was bad enough….and crepilly efficient. Four was going to be the ‘Pests of the night’. Joy. Just what he always wanted, bedbugs. The trip back home was mostly uneventful, and that was the most irritating thing he had to deal with. Rather than cower and hide, people looked at him on the street. Like they had any right to. Like they had any rights at all. He’d have to stop by the mayor’s office and put some good old fashioned fear back into the city. Annoying. All thanks to the four flies that had ripped apart his magnificent chaos. Luckily the people weren’t too far gone. He must not have been missing too long. No nimrods tried to stand up to him or evil forbid follow him. But they watched him, only scattering away when he sneered. He didn’t want them to scatter with a sneer. He WANTED the streets clear in terror of him ever WALKING them.  Fucking annoying . The door had been kicked open some time ago, and he’d know that bootprint anywhere. A wilted Rosebush was in pieces on the ground, along with a bag of toys. Hmmmm…..it had gotten ripped up and slashed so it hadn’t had water, but the flowers weren't so withered that he couldn’t tell what they’d been. He was gonna eyeball and say he’d been gone a week or two. Maybe a month. Not a year by the trepidation he was still treated to. No one had settled into foolish hope to snuff out. He checked the toybag for the amount of dust on it. Yeah, two weeks, at most a month. But hey, the kitchen was nice and filthy. She’d done a good job on that at least. He looked at the fridge but decided against it. Anything in there after this long wouldn’t be edible. He’d order something later. Not for the first time was he glad to have abandoned The lair on top of the bridge. It was nice and intimidating, but it didn’t have the space for a battered and overstuffed couch, which was where he flung himself. He didn’t have to worry. No one he trusted was stupid enough to end up seriously hurt by the idiots known as the Feable Four. But he on the other hand, was bruised. And not in the good way. Venomous green eyes slipped shut as he slipped into rest.

DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD

Negaduck wasn’t sure how much time had passed between when his eyes had closed and when he woke up. He didn’t know how much time he’d had an atual restful sleep, but he had gotten some actual rest. He registered the sounds of screams before his eyes slid open. With a deep breath he took a moment just to relish in them. Ohhhh, that was nice. A particularly pitchy scream of agony still had the sound of a cracking bone to accompany it.

“That eyebrow wiggle thing means you’re awake boss” Nega scowled slightly at his husband’s tone. Playful, but not ‘lets go cause some chaos’ playful, more ‘affectionate but still going to lecture you’. Hmmmm, maybe if he curled up further into the bed he found himself occupying? A heavy weight settled on the mattress. “You know the longer ya take before making me happy, the worse I’ll complain about it later.” Negaduck scowled and threw off the covers, sitting up abruptly to glare right into the amused smirk of one LaunchPad.

“How long?” The question had to fight through grit teeth.

“Did ya sleep? I got home about two hours ago so...longer than that. Were ya missing? A little over three weeks.” the larger duck let his hands tap absentmindedly on his own knees. “I held down tha fort fer ya, no worry on that ND, but….” And he made a sound. A sharp, short laugh forced through teeth grit with bitterness. “Little over three weeks.” Shit. Negaduck groaned.

“Ya know. If I’d known ya’d fuckin NAG me about her, I’da never picked up the fuckin brat.” That was a lie and both men knew it. The simple fact of the matter was that LaunchPad had been vocally against the twerp at first, but she’d been captured for almost a month of a far too quiet house and he was horribly worried, whereas NegaDuck had seen her less than an hour ago and so was significantly less worried. The stupid city was still standing….for now . Better calm down his husband. “Ya tracked her or do I have to do everything around here?” He snarled.  “Didn’t need to. They’re holded up in the Mayor’s office giving hopeful speeches near round the clock.” And to prove it, the Television was turned on. The Liquid Lunatic was warbling his way through a speech about the importance of clean water and how he was working together with BushRoot to make the air clearer. The redheaded ten year old sat just in view of the camera, kicking her legs slightly and smiling at everything. “Wonder how any of em have time to do anything.” Nega nodded with the information, absentmindedly thinking. Hmmm, she was kept on camera, which made things a bit more difficult. But those goody goodies probably had her on a bedtime. Night break in then. Or…..well, depending on what she was thinking they may be able to get a mole in. LaunchPad knew better than to storm their hideout without his husband, even for their daughter, but the big softy was anxious without her. Probably watched the news like crazy to make sure she was alright. “Alright. I’m gonna go grab that lil bitch and see if I’m better off letting her rot with hero scum, you get her room set up for if I let the little turncoat’s sorry ass back in here. LaunchPad rose, grateful for the order. By the set in his jaw that poor girl’s room had been cleaned and rearranged at least fifty times. He always got like this when she went missing. After a while, Nega just stopped letting her out of the house. This was the ‘nightmare scenario’. One of many. The longest she’d been missing before was two weeks. He grabbed LaunchPad by the wrist before he could leave the room, and pulled him backwards. The taller man understood and lowered his head so that Nega could grant one of his rare kisses to his temple. “Relax. You’re going to stress yourself out and die. Then I’ll have to marry Herb and neither of us wants that.” It works and the old and odd joke causes LaunchPad’s eyes to soften as a grin slits across his beak. Then he’s gone. Into Gosolyn’s room to arrange everything just so for her return. Negaduck pays full attention to the T.V. watching to see when they switch off or put her to bed. He can’t run in blind, not with them being smarter this time around.  He couldn’t let the Dimwit’s ducks know he was back yet, not till he had her back. Hopefully he’d been vicious enough to the idiots that had seen him on the way home that they didn’t go BLABBING.

See, Unlike the Morons. he could count . He had more people to work with, and he alone was smarter than them putting their heads together. They lose automatically. It was stupid of them to try, but even this single lucky victory grated on his NERVES.

Watching the news he’d noticed that only one of them was ever on at a time. And that they responded to disasters based on who specifically was best to solve them if the way Liquidator had runoff like a swimmer upon hearing about a fire. Gos was alone for almost a minute before QuackerJack had raced onto the scene. Some dead air time where she’d just read a book with a soft smile. Idiots the lot of them. Who freaked out if a ten year old was left alone for two minutes? While the WHOLE CITY was watching her? It was ridiculous and stupid, but it did give him a plan by the creeping light of dawn. Said plan was recorded in a notebook once LP came back in the room to settle into a restless sleep beside him. It was frustrating. Nega was tired. He had his favorite sound playlist of breaking bones and anguished screams, LaunchPad’s arm was heavy on his chest, almost crushing him. He had a great plan that only required the bareest amount of intelligence from his next door neighbours. AND he didn't have to deal with his BRAINLESS allies anymore. That being said, he felt the missing warmth from the spot where Gos usually would have fluttered her eyelashes to squirm into. He could feel LaunchPad’s erratic pulse every time the other man had a night terror about her. At the end of the day, his family was broken . This couldn’t happen again. He needed a way for LaunchPad to live AND for him to have fun while not letting her get taken. What kind of ‘princess of malice’ got STOLEN once a week!? The hints of a plan nudged at his brain, but he was too tired to fully acknowledge them.

ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND

“Excuse me?” BushRoot looked up at the studious looking boy at the gates. “Hello. I don’t know if you recognize or remember me.” “Of course I do!” BushRoot smiled brightly and the boy took a step backwards. “You’re Gos’ little friend . Oh I’d know you anywhere. You know come to think of it, we should’ve taken you too! Your family was awful. Are you here to see her?” Tank nodded with a slight smile.

“Yes actually. If that wouldn’t be too terribly horrid a thing to request?” He asked. BushRoot smiled down at the boy and ruffled his hair.

“Oh no it’s absolutely fine! We were just about to switch out her guard in fact. Megavolt was just going to run to do patrols.” Tank smiled happily as he was led through the hallways and to the center office, where the mayor had been before they vacated and left the city in the less than capable hands of NegaDuck. “That’s my report Dear Lovely Citizens” Megavolt smiled happily. “Please enjoy your new freedom as we continue to fix this town from the misery and suffering perpetrated by the evil known as NegaDuck.” He turned as the two came in, Bushroot waving at him. “TANK!!!!” Gosalyn jumped out of her chair and ran to her best friend as Quacker Jack took over the programming. The boy hugged her tightly for a moment before they both turned to BushRoot. 

“Um….Mister BushRoot sir. Would it be possible to get a different room? I mean. I haven’t spoken to Tank in sooooo long and we really shouldn’t do anything that interferes with the oh so necessary hope building Programs.” BushRoot smiled at her and thought about it. “Well….we didn’t want to leave you alone in case the awful LaunchPad came to try and capture you. But you’re absolutely right sweetheart! You and your friend should have some time time to talk to each other alone.” He paused to think again, before snapping his leaves. “we’ll just hide you someplace you won’t be found. And I know just the spot . Common kids.” Tank and Gosalyn followed as Tank checked the time. 3:50. Away from the cameras BushRoot spoke a bit more freely. “I’m going to put you in QuackerJack’s lab. He’s our leader! And his lab needs a secret code to get in so you’ll be extra safe there. Tank’s eyes sparkled. “A Whole Lab? Boy oh Boy, does Tank like those” Gosalyn volunteered. “He just loves science.” Tank blushed, but nodded as they were led down to a bunker. BushRoot typed in a code, uncaring if the two little sweethearts saw. After all, they were good kids. “Thanks So MUCH Mr. BushRoot” The Redhead smiled brightly as she and her best friend went to examine the lab, heavy steel door closing behind them. The kids looked at the playground or mechanical wonder before looking at each other and grinning. “Cool Beans. This place is perfect ”

DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD

At exactly 4:02 pm Honker and Binkie stood underneath the powerlines that connected the main grid to the city proper. At 4:00 every day-both morning and night, Megavolt had to recharge his batteries. Information gotten not from the few hours of programing, but from the alternate dimension. NegaDuck had only checked to make sure that the mouse was still as annoyingly predictable as he ever was. And Honker in particular had a bone to pick, having gotten shocked into oblivion on his birthday.  Mother and Son looked at each other to smile. Then the handy dandy bazukas they had were put to good use, blowing up the poles, and their attached wires. See, had Megavolt been inside the main grid. He wouldn’t have noticed the shut down. And if he was outside of the building, wherever he’d been sucking power from was now gone. The two stood side by side waiting to see if he’d come either from being called or to get juice. If he was already in. Well, normally they wore leather jackets and leather pants. Said articles of clothing had been replaced with rubber, so he wasn’t going to cause too many issues .

Outside as it turned out. Great guess on Lord Negaduck’s part, that as a ‘hero’ he would be too moral to use public property for private use or something like that. After ten minutes he arrived, stepping out of his car. He glared at Binkie, whom was waving her gun around and shooting in the air while laughing maniacally. “Stop right there vile Villain!” Surprisingly, she stopped and waved at the hero.  “Oh hello there!” She smiled. Megavolt, though confused, was polite. He waved back and nodded to her in greeting. “Do you remember me?” Binkie asked brightly. It caused the mouse to think for a bit before. “Um….no…..sorry. When did we meet?” She giggled. “Oh. I’m Binkie. We met at the bakery. It was my Baby Boy’s birthday! Remember! That whole thing with Darkwing? You shocked him so bad you sent him flying!” She giggled again. “He just wanted to say hi, same as me. Say ‘Hi’ Honker!” Well, evil had to have a few screws loose, but other than that she seemed fine. He turned with a smile to greet the villain he’d thwarted.

“Hi Hon-” That was as far as he got before a baseball bat of weighted glass was very violently introduced to his skull. He flailed and fell and that was all she wrote because Honker jumped off the car to follow him, swings as wild and crazy as his cackling.

ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND

QuakerJack looked at the alarm, dragging his eyes away from the camera, where he was giving the kiddos an informative after school message with the help of his trusty clown. Two alerts. One at the Water Processing Plant and another at the Botanical Gardens. It was only 4:30 but the frequency of the alerts was what was getting to him. He shook it off as he pressed the hidden buttons on the back of the clown, smiling brightly to the kids. Bud and Bushie would easily handle their areas and rush back to the other’s side. He didn’t like all of them being gone at once, but Mega had been recharging when the power cut. Luckily, the broadcast was still going on due to a generator, but the second someone else came in, he was going himself to check out what happened and how far the extent of the blackout went. The Liquidator didn’t know what he’d find at the scene of the crime, all he knew was that suddenly the alert had gone off for high amounts of Pollution entering the drinkable water supply. Quacks had sounded the blinking alarm- be careful . Approaching the building, everything seemed normal. No signs of a breakin. He opted for stealth, going back around the building to sink into one of the waterways that was being admitted for cleaning. As he slunk around he definitely sensed….a presence whatever it was, it was big. Liquidator peeked his head up to see……..a man. He blinked twice to see if it was in his internal catalogue of villains that had been showing up to try and take NegaDuck’s place. …..No. Just….a rather large ordinary man. He appeared to be grilling in a Water Filtration plant which was odd enough to ring an alarm bell. …..shame, he just, couldn’t figure it out more than that it was undoubtedly odd . The man opened one of his many coolers and tossed out something slimy and with a sickly greenish yellow color. Just…..just upended the WHOLE COOLER while he hummed lightly. He’d also been at this for a while from both being able to jam the system and the fact that there were only four coolers left.

“EXCUSE ME!” The man started as he turned around and as if the color and smell wern’t indicators of something foul going in, the man himself was wearing rubber gloves.

“Oh Hi there Neghberino!” He waved. “Fine day ta get ridda somma the stuff around da house init it?” A warm smile. Was this man…... evil or just very stupid? “Yeah I’ve had this hangin around since last year. That’s a thing wit rotten fish bait. After a while, ya just don’ know what ta do wit it.” He shook out the cooler, poisoning the water as he placed it back down. “But when da wife says it’s gotta go. Well ol Herb aint stupid now ishe? Nosirie bob. My Binkie says it goes I says, ‘whatever’ll make you happy honey bun’ ‘s how Ah keep a happy marriage ya know?” Stupid he decided. Very VERY stupid. “Sir.” The superhero crossed his arms. “You can’t stay or dump here. This is a water treatment plant. It holds about forty percent of the water for the Reservoir of this fine city!” The man blinked a few times, flabbergasted. “Oh?” He got up and went to his grill “And here I thought the place what was cleaning was da bes fer tossin. After all, Water’s gotta get dirty afore it’s clean don’t ya know. Oh well. I’ll just empty mah coals n leave ya to yer lonesome sir.”

“Absolutely not!” And to save the water, the Luididator left it, going to grab the grill before  ‘Herb’ could empty the coals. Poor Hero. He didn’t stop to wonder why one needed rubber gloves and as he touched the metal of the grill, the electricity surged through him, dissolving his form. Herb grinned as he looked down at the puddle and went for another cooler. Water absorbing powder solution. “Looks like you and me, we’s gonna be real good neighborinos. That is if anything’s lefta yous by tommara” He gave a slightly whistling ‘maniacal laugh’ as he cleaned up the Crimefighter.

DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD

BushRoot was aware that there was a problem when he got too close to the Botanical Garden. He could hear his children screaming in agony before their lives were cruelly snuffed out. He just didn’t know what they were screaming about. As he went inside he saw that the door had been kicked off its hinges. There was no sign of any of the scientists that worked there, and what’s more- there was enraged screaming coming from the same direction of the screams of his children. Scariest, it was the Rare plants division.He sniffed at the air. Whatever the odd smell, it was causing them discomfort. He needed to fix that first. He looked carefully at the lab portion of the garden as he raced over. It struck him how odd it was that there were a few open flames, but he dismissed it as the scientist having been scared away before they could extinguish.  He tried to keep to the sidelines so that he could see the problem as he entered where the cries for help were coming from.  He needed to evaluate,  figure out how best to handle the sit-

“YOU!!!!” BushRoot froze, feeling his stems shake. Upon entering the room it was just his luck that the problem was staring him down. And it was none other than a LIVID LaunchPad armed with a flamethrower. He had a weed killer in his hand and a shovel on his belt but the flamethrower was what really got him. All of the precious plants in here could be gone in an instant thanks to that Mad Man. A sinister smile crawled over the beak of the larger man. “You’re gonna tell me where Gos is. Else, all o ya kids….well. Longer I aint got mine. Worse off yours are gonna get. Capisce?”

“You are never going to harm that sweet little angel ever again!” BushRoot raised an arm and a tree near where the man stood swung down a heavy branch to club at him. LaunchPad barrel rolled away from the hit, but the tree picked up it’s roots and followed him. BushRoot got closer to his kids to better hear what they were screaming, but the smell was unbearable. He took a handy dandy water bottle as he let Susan handle the interloper. LaunchPad wasn’t as scary without his fearless leader. A little bit of water should handle the shiny looking nasty chemical on the leaves of his babies. As he gave a spritz he noticed that….it wasn’t coming off, almost arguing with the water. But the chemical was also by their precious roots. “HEY!” BushRoot looked up. He was on the second floor, by the roof. LaunchPad had a slightly manic grin. “Last chance freak. Tell me where Gos is, or alla ya kids are  mulch.”

“As far as I can see, You’re running away. And I’m NEVER letting that poor girl near the likes of your EVIL ever again. She’s MY new Eco warrior of justice!” LaunchPad let out a snort and lit the flamethrower. BushRoot scoffed at seeing the sprinklers activate. “What’d ya THINK that’d do right under the….” His words caught in his throat. While the first few seconds had been water, that nasty smelling chemical had hit the fire and ignited “GAS!!!!!! EVERYONE OUT!!!!!” How had he not recognised the smell . He grabbed the plants he could as he ran for the exit but…..

BushRoot shook as he saw it. It wasn’t just the room he’d been in. All the fire sprinklers had been filled with Gas. All of the plants. All of the research….. He took the few samples he could and sprinted for it, feeling his own legs becoming dried out from the intense and rising heat before he got out. He did manage to make it out...though he didn’t know how. His mind had been filled with fear and adrenaline as he desperately ran for safety. But he crawled away from the inferno. Him and the Children in his hands. Crawling until the point of collapse. And He collapsed right in front of a combat boot. “Did I say Mulch?” LaunchPad started Conversationally. “I meant Firewood. Opps, slip o the tongue. Coulda happened to anyone . Now. I turned the daycare into a crematorium, where’s Gos?” BushRoot shuddered. This wasn’t a man in front of him, smiling brightly and still holding unto the flamethrower.

“She….she’s at the Mayor’s office. C-City Hall” Right now all he wanted to do was cuddle up with Bud. He felt like literal crap turning the girl over to the likes of…. this. But….But he was the weakest link…..yeah…..yeah. The others would forgive him for what he was doing. He was scared. They…..They could get her back. NegaDuck was Gone. Darkwing had seen to that. They couldn’t give up after one little hiccup! “ WHERE ” And that Flamethrower was right in face as he scrambled away from the maniac and towards the conflagration. “ EXACTLY is she” BushRoot trembled. He was kneeling on the ground and begging for his life here. They could get the girl back later.

ND~DD~ND~DD~ND~DD~ND

NegaDuck chanced a look at his cell. LaunchPad, Binkie and Herb had all called that their targets were neutralized. He let out a pleasant sigh. It was so nice dealing with people that were only mostly morons instead of COMPLETE Morons. Why didn’t he spend more time in his St. Canard? He pulled down the brim of his Fedora, closing his trenchcoat more tightly around himself as he walked up the stairs. Of course nothing could go right. At the top of the stairs the doors opened and two figures walked out, causing him to hide before he was spotted. “So He probably got them all already?” He knew that voice. That was her pouting voice. “And he’s just waiting at home. I know he’s grumpy, but that’s oh so very rude . He couldn’t even stage a kidnapping himself after I was gone almost a month!”

“Ah-Hem!” NegaDuck stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed. Gosolyn’s face brightened upon seeing him but he stopped her in his tracks with a single finger. “You are grounded. How grounded you are depends on your reasoning for this” He gestured around the still clean and bright once home. “DISGUSTING Mess.” “First, we haveta get away from City Hall. Too many nosy naughty cameras lurking around to spyie why.” As she spoke she hurried up, Nega falling into step behind her. “COMMEON  HURRY!!!” He groaned, but followed his charge as she raced to his hidden ‘civie’ car. …..WHAT it was fine and good being the Evil Overlord, but it came with Do gooders and sometimes he was just getting groceries! …… or kidnapping people to cook said groceries! Either way. “We gotta get home by five! Tanky, what time is it?” Tank showed her his watch. 4:45 And she gasped. “FUCK! We gotta get everyone home and in front of the TV! I’ll explain there.” NegaDuck scowled but aquissed to her crazy request, sending out a mass text and FLOORING it to get back home with his charges. She scrambled to get out the generator so that the T.V. would work. Excitedly plugging it in she started the crank. LaunchPad came down the stairs as he heard the enthusiastic pitter patter of malicious feet. Seeing her at the Generator he cracked a grin. “Shoo” The word was soft as he lightly tossed her away from the generator. He was bigger and stronger and so better at cranking the damn thing. Unfortunately, once QuackerJack went out to get his little boyfriend he’d undoubtedly fix all their hard work. But more importantly. His daughter was back for him to yell at. And possibly kill. He hadn't decided yet what he was going to do to her. “Well!” She started when the TV was up, playing the same old 24/7 Newscast of Hope.  “I had this plan for awhile. Just not any real way to put it into action until Darkwing Duck somehow showed up here! Luckily” And her voice went sing song, as it always did when she was particularly pleased about something. “I’m fucking fabulous!” Nega rolled his eyes, shooing Herb off of his coved space on the couch with just a glare. The large father of two relocated to the floor to his happy wife as she gave Honker another wep nap to clean his bat with. “But this, undoubtedly the BEST PLAN EVER is not truly my plan. I mean….I did all the thinking and hard shit. But a TRUE plot is always for the benefit of yourself. And this plan was created only half for me.” She shrugged as QuackerJack continued talking on screen. A cold smile grew on her face as the Jester themed Super got visibly nervous, checking his watch for the alerts to be handled. “The other half was for my dear Papa” “Me?” LaunchPad blinked uncertainty. With Gos there were only two options when she planned something catered exactly to you. Either she HATED you with every fiber of her being, or she was being nice in her own way. You’d know by weather or not you continued with your meaningless existence. “Oh yes. And it worked even BETTER than I thought.” She hopped up on the couch, snuggling into NegaDuck and patted the cushion next to her. LauchPad did a mental tally of who owed whom a near death attempt. He was pretty sure cyanide in the cake evened out livewires on the ground, so he took the chance to sit next to her. “I knew that there were Nasty lil wanna-be Heros trying to muck up Daddies city.” Herb and Binkie both flinched at the ‘sweet lil angel’ casually calling LORD NEGADUCK by such a title. Something so bright and sweet and cute and filthy. But she continued irregardless of their discomfort. Or perhaps, spurred by it. “I also know Daddy kept leaving to that other St.Canard. With their Other heroes to fight and their other Papa and their other GOSALYN” They weren't allowed to have nice things in the house, Gos ripping apart the seat cushion as she got angry.  Binkie flinched at such wondrous ferocity coming from well, a ‘sweet little girl’. Gos took a deep breath and a smile spread across her beak. “Darkwing taught them to be better Heros and in Daddie’s absence, they made St. Canard a better place. One of laughter, of light, overflowing with seeds of new hope!” Tank’s watch went off and the little girl pointed to the Television with unrestrained glee. “What’s that noise?” QuackerJack spoke from the TV. And then they heard it…..the recording-Gosalyn screaming for dear life. “Gos? Sweetie? Pumkin?” And as he ran to try and rescue her, the room started shaking. The camera fell to the floor, then there was an ENORMOUS multicolored explosion. Screams from an unseen QuakerJack and his pained face before an even LOUDER BOOM. Then the camera was destroyed and the broadcast finally stopped. “They think they can win now! Their own hope will keep them trying….and trying…..and stupidly trying.” A giggle. “Even more fun than going to some other world and ripping their hopes away? Snatching the faint hope that tries to grow like a revolting rosebush!” Another giggle ripped from her system. “They’ll see that broken dream of theirs and despair. Then the heroes will try to regroup because surely if they did it once they can do it again. And YOU” She snarled at NegaDuck. “Can play right here with Papa and ME!!!!” It was vicious and evil and well thought out and…..

“Awwweeeee. My sweet little MONSTER ”

[the-awful-falafel]

Rick and Morty - S4E6 "Never Ricking Morty" Podcast Summary/Breakdown

So y'all probably expected this based on how often I've been talking about these official companion podcasts. I recommend listening to them yourself either on the official Adult Swim YT channel or the official website, but I thought I'd go ahead and make bullet point breakdown of some key points for this particular podcast, because trivia and behind-the-scenes knowledge really appeal to me. And this episode is pretty divisive in the fanbase, so I think this podcast will assuage some fears even if you still personally dislike it in the end.

For some reason, the title of the podcast calls this S4E7 instead of episode 6. It wasn’t commented upon, so I assume either it was a typo or it was 7 in the production order and got swapped shortly before release.

The interviewed staff involved in this episode were Carlos Ortega (character design lead), Erica Hayes (director), James McDermott (art director), and Jeff Loveness (writer)

The idea of this episode was conceived in October/November 2018 as a "one-up" of anthologies and clip shows. They didn't want to do a straight anthology because many other TV shows had already done that, so they tried to go more experimental and bold and basically went balls-deep with the metanarrative as a result

It was a substitute for Interdimensional Cable (which they were going to do instead but it fell through for unknown reasons)

"We had to go so far up our own ass, because if we didn't go far enough, people would be mad that we didn't."

The writers intentionally mocked themselves as much as the fans, pretty much, and it was meant to be all in good fun

The artists really enjoy designing all the weird aliens in the show, as well as getting to reuse/repurpose them when applicable. Apparently next episode (Promortyus) is going to be reusing a lot of designs for something (but they obviously can't say due to spoilers)

Compared to other episodes, "Never Ricking Morty" went pretty smoothly once it got to the art stage. That doesn't mean it was easy, but there weren't a ton of revisions they had to do

There was a joking spoiler about Rick becoming pregnant later this season. At least I think it's joking.

While writing this episode, the writers came up with a huge whiteboard list of complaints about the show, misconceptions about the show, etc. to consult for the meta jokes. Loveness later clarified that it wasn't quite about attacking "complaining" though, and it wasn't meant to be mean-spirited

The Bechdel test skit came from them realizing they hadn't done much with Beth and Summer this season, which definitely can be considered a flaw. Therefore, as part of their self-mockery, the writers decided to force them crudely into the episode as a joke, while also making fun of men who write women characters poorly and reductively.

The Jesus Christ / Rick suddenly being Christian part was written in response to the writers asking themselves "what would kill Rick and Morty as a show?"

Jeff Loveness said this in the "Inside Never Ricking Morty" video as well, but he really loved the "old man is really ripped and ready to kick your ass" trope and is partially responsible for it becoming a running gag this episode along with "cum gutters". Apparently cum gutters return in season 5 (also said jokingly, so who knows)

One of the Q&A callers called multiple times, with different phone numbers, and kept asking about potential crossovers for some reason

"A lot of people are saying that the show is fucking with their fans. Is that accurate?" "I think some of those fans deserve to be fucked with a little bit."

They point out how some fans feel entitled to the idea they should be pleased by the show all the time, and the writers feel like the show should ideally surprise the viewers in a good way, but you still may not like every episode and that's alright

At the same time, the episode wasn't meant as an attack on the fans, it was more of a "we'll do this our way, be experimental, and push the envelope of what we can do" message they were sending. Jeff Loveness promises that there's "good stuff coming up" that he thinks the fans will be happy with, presumably in late Season 4 or even Season 5

"Just because we showed it this way and you'll probably never see it this way again, that doesn't mean we're dropping these storylines completely." There you go, everyone! The ongoing story threads are still happening at some point, and the message of the episode wasn't about dropping continuity or mocking people for caring about it. Although if you were hoping for resolutions similar to what was shown in this episode (Evil Morty w/ a giant army, Tammy VS Summer with lightsabers), those scenarios are almost certainly not going to happen canonically based on this statement. Let's hope that what they do come up with is both unexpected and awesome.

The episode is intended to be non-canonical, similar to past once-a-season clip show episodes like Interdimensional Cable

Story Lord was inspired by characters like Mysterio and Q, and the writers created him late in development as a type of villain they hadn't done before. Dan Harmon also put a lot of self-mockery into the character with how much he loved narrative structure and the story circle. The character artists even initially asked if Harmon could be the design for the character but that received an immediate "no", as it was perceived as being too on-the-nose.

Jeff Loveness was surprised the Rick/Birdperson musical made it to the final episode since it seemed like the sort of thing that would be cut or lost in development. He was also surprised the Jesus thing stayed in mostly untouched

The Story Train was intended to be an actually purchasable product by the time the episode aired-- the writers were emphatically excited about that being the culmination of the joke in the writers room-- and they were surprised that it didn't go through by the time the episode aired. They guess it's due to the coronavirus pandemic interrupting merchandising plans, but they're ultimately unsure because the decision isn't discussed with them

The artists do receive some limitations on how much gore they're allowed to depict, but they can show as much blood as they want, so for the most part they can still be creative with gruesome violence (like the Tickets Please guy ripping in half in this episode)

The artists are credited for elevating most of the fight scenes in the show, sometimes with only vague script direction which they use to be very creative

In response to a viewer calling in and asking the question about whether Pickle Rick will return: "I think there's a conversation to be had about: do we want these things to return or it better to do a one-off story?" So my take on this is that not literally everything will factor into the continuity-- they put thought into what ideas have more long-running potential and they build those up. Which is kind of obvious but the question was silly anyway. (They're still ambiguous about whether or not Pickle Rick will come back, by the way)

They aren't going to do an outright Star Wars parody in Rick and Morty because other shows have already done that, but they can still parody what Star Wars represents rather than doing a "branded commercial" for it. Apparently there is a lot of that specifically coming up this season (although indirect in the way they're describing). I assume this is referring to the upcoming "Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerri" episode, so I’m curious about how they’ll reference Star Wars in that one.

The COVID-19 reference this episode was thrown in last minute, presumably with just alternative dubbing and changing the lip sync animation. They say that sometimes episodes are still being worked on up until the moment they release on television. Referring to a previous episode as an example, the character of Shadowjacker from the dragon episode was thrown in last-minute

With the exception of James McDermott, most of the staff interviewed had no control or participation over the commercial product placement work, such as the Wendy's/Pringles commercials. They don't mind them for the most part and find them funny

The writers try to avoid being too topical because the scripts take so long to turn into animation that any references will become outdated by the time it releases. Therefore, they try to be "timely" in the sense that they're writing about things that are happening in the world, but in a more abstract/thematic sense. Jeff Loveness implies that the next episode Promortyus will have a lot of that

In response to another viewer Q&A: There is no Rick and Morty movie currently planned. They wouldn't mind one, but nothing is really in development at the moment

The staff say they're excited for the next batch of episodes and seem pretty proud of their work on this season

They don't plan on making a Rick and Morty musical episode at the moment, as they feel like other shows like South Park and the Simpson have done it excellently and don't feel like they're capable of doing it better. The Rick/Birdperson bit in this episode was the most we're going to get

The code inside the broken-off throttle lever was intended to just be a bar code decal (to show it's a toy) and doesn't actually mean anything. James McDermott jokingly said it's "where the bodies are buried"

The Rick army / Evil Morty scene was huge from an animation standpoint and they almost couldn't do it due to how ambitious the shot was. They were going for a "Lords of the Rings", faux series-finale vibe, where they "give the fans what they THINK they want". Justin Roiland insisted they do it

There are definitely more big animation setpieces planned for the future

And that’s it! I’ll probably do more of these for the future episode podcasts, if anyone is still interested.

[badolmen]

@billy-hoepe​ in this house we disregard canon characters’ deaths and substitute wholesome fanfiction for depressing canon.

Miles looked down on the Morphogenic Engine room, the life support pods like a marble collection. Some where cracked, others streaked with blood, or entirely dyed red. One was illuminated, the Engine’s screen flickering with indecipherable black and white images that reflected on the glass prison of William “Billy” Hope.

He looked around the room, the quiet and stillness no reassurance of safety, but he sat in an office chair, catching his breath and catching up with his still reeling thoughts. There was silence, except for the hum of electricity and the omnipresent static that had invaded the journalist’s thoughts. But there was no immediate danger. Walker had gotten his due, at the hands of the very thing Wernicke had asked, maybe even begged, Miles to kill.

And nothing about it felt right.

Thumbing through his notes, camcorder resting precariously on the many buttons and levers of the control panel, the more he thought about it, the less sense it made to kill Billy. He was young, he had only been admitted to Mount Massive four years ago, and none of the files Miles had found said why he had been admitted. From the notes, he seemed normal, if a little childish, compared to the other patients.

No one could leave while Billy lived. Or that’s what Wernicke had said. It sparked some familiar itch of curiosity in Miles, the same feeling of anticipation and vengeful spite to understand and share that understanding at the expense of the corrupt. Was the Walrider limited to Mount Massive Asylum? By what? The chamber doors did not block the exit, as far as Miles had seen before the apparition stopped him.

It seemed more likely that the Walrider could only travel a fixed distance from its host. Down here, it was stronger, more corporeal than the flickers he had seen in the upper levels. Down here it could pick up Chris Walker and throw him around like a rag doll before stuffing his corpse into a ventilation shaft.

Why had the Walrider done that? Why would it save Miles if, as Wernicke said with such confidence, it only planned on slaughtering him? It could just enjoy the thrill of the hunt, but then why had it not attacked Miles since he attempted to leave? How much control did Billy have over the specter, and how much control did it have over him?

In his racing mind, thoughts blurred by pain and logic viewed through static, Miles decided that the Walrider wanted something. It wanted freedom. Would it continue its slaughter? Or was it satisfied with the blood of those who had brought it here, who had tortured its hosts?

And why would Wernicke ask Miles, a shell shocked, blood soaked stranger with a camcorder, to kill the host of something that bordered between a deity and a demon? Why the fuck should he trust a man who was supposed to be dead? Who had helped orchestrate the monstrosity of Mount Massive? He glanced at the security cameras in the corners of the control room, beady black lenses glaring down with impatience. Could Wernicke see him?

So many questions. So few answers.

Miles rubbed his face, aware of the blood streaking across his cheeks from the stubs of his fingers. Maybe there was some untainted medical supplies down here.

A tap on the glass.

He couldn’t help but flinch, the muscle memory of shrinking from every unexpected sound already too deep in his bones. His eyes slowly lifted from the notes, past the softly glowing buttons and switches of the terminal to the window that separated the control room from the engine room.

The swarm of darkness hovered, its form constantly twitching and shifting, vaguely resembling a human. It somehow looked more human than many of the Variants Miles had seen in the last few hours. The Walrider had no eyes, but Miles could feel its gaze on his face; it was patient, watching, waiting.

Miles hadn’t spoken in hours. Adrenaline, the acrid smell of death that filled every breath, and pure fear had kept him silent, words a waste on the pure insanity of this building of horrors. Even Wernicke wasn’t given a word of confirmation, Miles too panicked and confused to form coherent sentences, let alone responses to the sheer, terrible absurdity he had been immersed in.

The words were slow, slurred by exhaustion and rough from screaming.

“What do you want?” It wasn’t a charged statement, full of hate or fear. It was empty. Beaten and apathetic, lacking any venom or sarcasm. He hardly expected an answer, the swirling, living shadow barely reacting to the sound. Which made its whispery, static filled voice all the more startling.

“Wir wollen nach Hause gehen.” The words were coming from everywhere and nowhere. They vibrated in Miles’ bones and echoed in the back of his mind, the syllables punctuated with the shrillness of auditory feedback from a poor microphone speaker setup. The ringing in his ears stopped, and the journalist looked back to the Walrider.

“Ich niecht sprekt Deutch,” Miles managed, butchering the foreign language. He had spent a few week’s in Germany, years ago on some story far less blood-soaked as the Murkoff corporation. He hadn’t been very fluent in the language then, but he at least recognized the language, and what seemed to be the word “house,” whatever that meant in the context of an abomination of Nazi science and spiritualism.

The Walrider almost seemed to blink, the nanites that made its corporeal form flickering briefly where Miles supposed eyelids could be. The shadow dissipated from sight, Miles watching the grey and black dust disintegrate into thin air.

The loud smack against the glass nearly gave him a heart attack, though he wasn’t really sure what he expected from the being that had slaughtered so many already. Miles didn’t question where it got the blood. He grimaced at the blood spatter, too desensitized to worse to be wholly disgusted when the Walrider began to trace shapes onto the glass.

A circle with lines inside it. The circle broken into two, jagged pieces. A sloppy rendition of the exit sign.  

“I gotta get Billy out of his pod or whatever to leave this hellhole?” The Walrider nodded. They were communicating. Specifically, Miles was communicating with some sort of interdimensional spirit demon thing that required a physical host traumatized enough and in the right way to produce nanite robotics using their cells. He put his notebook away, and picked up his camcorder, the apparition swaying slightly.

“Okay, okay, fuck, okay, so,” Miles took a breath. He hadn’t spoken on camera in hours. He hadn’t had much he could say without sounding crazy himself. But the thing in front of him was on camera. And was waiting. “This, uh, Walrider wants me to break its host, Billy, out of his pod down there, and I think my only other option is to kill the host, or whatever the hell that Nazi fuck was talking about,”

Miles approached the entrance to the Morphogenic Engine room. The second he opened the barrier the Walrider could tear him to pieces. It could rip him apart from the inside. It waited by the stairs, shifting form like thousands of flies.

“I think I’m going with the former, so if I die doing this shit, know that I’ve had a very long, fucked up night, and just want to go home, I don’t want anybody else to get hurt,” Miles breathed a shaky sigh, his hands aching. Killing Trager was satisfying, but Miles was a reporter. Not a murderer.

No matter how much relief washed over him when Chris Walker was shredded through a ventilation grate, no matter the panic and chaos that killed Trager, Miles wasn’t a fighter. Billy was one of the few people in this damned shitshow that hadn’t actively attempted to mutilate, murder, or do worse to Miles. Was it sane to trust the demigod like being that had started this nightmare of slaughter and lunacy? He would find out.

The door slid open, the gush of sterile air cold and dry. The Walrider did not attack him. Miles descending the stairs, camera on and breathing unsteady as he approached the dreaded Morphogenic Engine, the engineering abomination that created this mess.

And Billy Hope, the only living human being besides Miles, eyes vacant at the flickering screen.

Miles didn’t know what half the tubes and wires fed, read, or carried. They were life support, monitoring equipment, and presumably linked to the massive machine that hummed above. The Walrider kept a few paces away, watching Miles with an almost cautionary gaze.

“So, I don’t suppose you know how to get him out without killing him, huh?” Miles asked aloud. The Walrider gave a growl of static. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you would have done it on your own if you could, no need keeping me around otherwise. Right. So, where the fuck should I start?”

He was very much aware that the Walrider wouldn’t respond, at least not in an intelligible manner that Miles could understand. Talking, even to himself, after so long of keeping silent was refreshing. It helped him feel less terrified of the swarm of nanites hovering over his shoulder.

He looked over the terminal, alight with finger scanners and electricity. The machine had hundreds, thousands of buttons and lights. Touching any of them could kill Billy or provoke the Walrider.

“Y’know for being the thing that wants me to get you outta here, you aren’t being any help,” Miles muttered, pointing the camcorder to the swarm. It hissed softly. “Then show me what the fuck you want me to do ya creepy fuck,” It mimed an action. “Oh fuck no, you’ll just shred me if he dies, or whatever,” The Walrider mimed the action again. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” The Walrider growled. Miles did not have a choice.

“Playing fucking charades with a shadow demon, this is just how my night is going,” Miles sighed, setting down his camcorder on the machine’s terminal, facing the pod. He needed something heavy. A fire extinguisher would do. He wrenched it from the back wall, muffling a whimper of pain as his fingers curled around the cold metal.

“By the way, Walrider, demon, thing, uh, do you plan on killing more people once we get outta this hellhole? Cause if that’s your plan I don’t think I should be doing this, in good conscience and all,”

It hissed at him, ever shifting face baring black fangs.

“Y’know what? I’ll take that as a no. You seem to be the most reasonable, sentient being in this fucked up hell hole. Does that sound like a plan? I get you and Billy out of this place, you don’t cause Armageddon or whatever the fuck it is you would do to society. Deal?”

A growl.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Miles said, setting down the fire extinguisher as he sized up the pod. He doubted he could shatter it without hurting the occupant, but it was what the Walrider wanted. “Just so we’re clear, uh,” Miles looked to the Walrider, who hovered expectantly over the pod. “If I fuck this up, could you, like, not kill me? Or at least kill me quick. Whichever is easier,”

Static hummed in the back of his mind, pressure building in his ears as it reached a high pitch. He picked up the fire extinguisher, trying to find the best way to hold it with his mangled hands.

“Here goes nothing.”

The glass shattered more easily than he had expected, buckling under the first blow from the fire extinguisher. The liquid inside was sticky and cold, a strong saline smell that brought back memories of his research into Cargill’s human rights abuses in their Peruvian salt mines immediately filling the air.

Billy was still inside the pod, wires and tubes now pulling against his weight and drawing blood. His eyes were still fixated on the screen, dull and passive. An alarm was blaring, softened by distance and the walls that separated Miles from the main hallways. The Walrider was screaming, its form swirling and shifting. Billy was dying.

“Fuck, I’m working on it, fuck, just, just give me a second,” Miles muttered, stepping through the glass on the floor to reach inside the pod, icy liquid squelching uncomfortably beneath his shoes. It was better than blood. A lot about the very heart of Mount Massive was better than the gore and insanity above. “Let’s get you down buddy,”

The restraints were tight, leaving behind imprints on the smaller man’s wrists. Released from the manacles, Billy slumped forward, atrophied muscles in his arms unused to being free from their position wrenched behind his back. The wires and tubes attached to his back and chest were taught, blood streaking down his emaciated ribs and bony spine. Above the Walrider flickered from side to side, shrieking unintelligibly.

He couldn’t imagine how long it took the Murkoff staff to shove these tubes down Billy’s throat, put needles at every joint and wind electrodes around his limbs.  Miles grimaced as he quickly removed the tubing and wires that seemed to be imbedded and wound around every inch of Billy’s body, electrodes and needles dangling from their threads inside the empty pod as he pried them from freezing flesh.

He was cold and heavy, skin dull like wax as Miles lifted Billy over the broken glass to set him down on the floor. Billy wasn’t breathing. His pulse was absent from thin, blood soaked wrists. How long had it been since he had drawn breath on his own? Could he breathe on his own?

Miles started compressions, the Walrider’s static screams growing angrier and more panicked. It hurt, his bloodied hands needled with pain at every compression. Two breaths. More compressions. He needed to breathe, but Billy stayed still and silent. Two more breaths. Miles was slowing down, losing the rhythm as panic began to set in his bones. The shadow above was in agony, writhing and hissing. The Walrider charged forward, teeth bared and snarling.

Then Billy coughed. And breathed.

His eyes were bright, dark pupils the size of saucers and iris a mere ribbon of pale blue. Billy gasped for air, throat ragged, and breaths choked.

“There – there you go, breathe, Billy, just breathe,” Miles managed through his own gasping breaths of receding panic. The Walrider was gone. For now. Billy twitched and groaned, nothing more than a whimper of fear and pain escaping his blue lips as he shivered, trying to curl away from Miles, who had retrieved his camera from the Engine’s bright control panels.

“No, no, hey – hey, it’s okay, I’m not,” Miles swallowed the lump in his throat, his blood stained, mauled hands reaching out in a gesture of comfort that suddenly seemed less than friendly. He curled his hands away, pulling them closer to his chest. “My name is Miles. You’re Billy, right? I’m here to get us out, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Billy stopped inching away, arms and legs shaking from strain, cold, and fear, but his eyes held a gleam of something that might have been hope, and relief.

“Okay, here, you’re freezing,” Miles too off his jacket, wrapping it around Billy’s shaking shoulders. “That better?” The jacket was warm, heavy with the scent of blood and sweat. Billy nodded. “Can you get up? On your own?” Billy could barely sit up on his own, head lolling weakly side to side. “Okay, is it alright, alright if I help you up?” He nodded.

Miles wrapped an arm around Billy, the smaller man’s cold arm slung over his neck. He was heavy. Stiff. His skin seemed almost ashen in the cold light, steps shaking and feet unsure as they made their way to the stairs.

“Take it easy, the exit’s just down this way,” Miles said as they limped down the hall, slowly going over palettes and containers that blocked the path. Even with Miles’ jacket, Billy shivered incessantly, cold fingers gripping the reporter’s shoulder for stability. A few more paces and they would be at the exit.

The doors opened, Miles bracing at the sight of the heavily armed men surrounding Wernicke’s withered, sickly frame. He could feel Billy shake even more violently, from fear rather than the cold in his bones. His eyes were wide with panic, darting over the masks and guns to the old man’s skeletal face and angry eyes.

“You are a fool, I had hoped you would have had the sense to kill this monster, not release it,” Wernicke’s voice slurred, Billy nervously glancing from Miles’ aggrieved expression to the doctor. There was the click of a gun safety.

Billy didn’t know when Miles had pushed him to the side, behind a stack of containers. The first thing he knew that it hurt. His bones hurt. His joints hurt. His head hurt. The second thing he knew was that Miles was hurt, the gunshot a distant echo in his scattered mind. Red was on the floor, a growing puddle. He smelled copper and gunpowder.

The image of Miles, gripping his shoulder, camera still clutched in one hand, glaring up at the men in the doorway, was the last thing Billy Hope remembered before unconsciousness ate away at his vision like rust. The last thing he heard was the rattle of gunfire, and screams.

[asphaltapostle]

What I have long predicted is now coming to pass: Google believes it should assume control.

Out of all the technology companies that have made my knees knock and my voice hoarse and my [Tweets manic](https://twitter.com/search?f=tweets&q="google" %40ficklecrux&src=typd) as a technoheretic in the past several years, Jumbo Google would easily take home the winning trophy for Dystopian of the Millennium. I have been rehearsing an especially dear pet prophecy of mine, unsolicited, to family, friends, and podcast guests since 2011 in which I end up arguing quite convincingly that Google is a dead ringer for the 16th-century Vatican: an inherently self-isolating organization with an absolute monopoly yielding gargantuan levels of essentially passive income from a service which nearly everybody transacts with, but only Google understands (and is therefore assumed to be its only possible provider,) which inevitably develops such a distance from the rest of the populace and their way of life (in tandem with total notoriety and celebrity among them all) not intentionally out of malice, but from the delusion of mythically-bestowed philanthropic duty that is borned of and compounded by this economic and cultural isolation in a perpetual accumulation of power and wealth that radicalizes the monopolizers — the majority already highly predisposed to zeal as they would’ve needed to be in order to find themselves in this singular, universally powerful position over every other class — and leaves their egocentric minds to wander exempt from all criticism save for that of fellow radicalized monopolizers, who together begin to feel more and more comfortable wondering aloud about themselves in increasingly fantastic presumptions: what if all of this was bestowed upon us because we are superior to them? What if it is our divine responsibility as superior beings to take charge and shepherd the common people as our sheep — for they cannot possibly know as well as we what is truly best for them?

You see it, right? And you can feel a very specific flavor of terror that is both awed by the scale of the circumstances created by so few human minds and sincerely amused by the absoluteness of your own inability to alter them in any way. Perhaps you even recognize this taste as one perfected by Christianity’s ancient advertising business, but Google knows so much about you that it’s rumored to’ve been selling user data to the Judeochristian God for some time now at a 10% discount, and so we extrapolate and anticipate, yes?

Of course, it’s admittedly satisfying for me to deliver you to this godfearing place in the most perverse look what I saw first that you didn’t see because you’re just not as bright but lucky for you, I’m so fucking generous with my wisdom sort of thinking around which the entire personas and livelihoods of fringe movement fanatics are built upon, but this is my one thing, okay? I’ve been waiting years for the right time to formally argue this theory in depth, and — thanks to this year’s public spotlight finally pivoting on the giants who’ve been silently swallowing their competition and relentlessly forcing their already ridiculous margins higher and higher in relative obscurity for decades, the time has come, indeed. The common people’s trust in Google had a godawful week.

Don’t Be Evil

On Monday, Gizmodo reported that twelve frustrated Google employees were quitting the company in protest of their work assisting the Department of Defense to “implement machine learning to classify images gathered by drones” for the detail fleeting Project Maven, despite some 4000 employee signatures on a letter addressed to CEO Sundar Pichai requesting (in full) that he “cancel this project immediately,” and “draft, publicize, and enforce a clear policy stating that neither Google nor its contractors will ever build warfare technology,” citing the infamous “Don’t Be Evil” motto, which Google then proceeded to remove from its code of conduct for the first time in 18 years the day after the New York Times article went to press, on April 5th.

On initial approach to the abstract of this story, from the ass to our thoughts arrives an easy narrative of a Silicon Valley mutiny comprised of twelve brave, conscientious souls who’ve been eaten up inside by their complicity in the filthy deals made by their power-obsessed CEO over scotch and cigars in a dark D.C. study — kept awake for months by the sound of his puffing cackles at satellite images of dead toddlers in a bombed-out street.

Ah ha, we say. That man is no good, and he just wouldn’t listen! They knew they didn’t have a choice… They only did what they had to do…

The reality of internal disagreements at Google, though, manages to be even more theatrical. The sheer volume of correspondence must surely be beyond anything capable of the enduser’s imagination, so let’s phone a friend: my favorite peek into the day-to-days of inter-Google existence is an old blog post by Benjamin Tilly on his first month at the company in which he was compelled almost immediately to describe in great detail how best to “deal with a lot of email in gmail” at peak efficiency using shortcuts and labels. “As you get email, you need to be aggressive about deciding what you need to see, versus what is context specific.”

Now we have a bit better idea of the aggressive emailing that was a sure constant on a normal workday at Google in 2010, so it must’ve been deafening after 8 years of Gmail development as 4000 employees no doubt vented, debated, and decided to organize last month, though without making much headway because the leadership’s response was apparently “complicated by the fact that Google claims it is only providing open-source software to Project Maven,” this new knowledge having significant effect on our mind’s image of Sundar Pichai’s activities in Washington: he is now swapping seats with a frustrated Colin Powell in order to install OpenOffice onto his desktop from a flash drive, and we recall that Google’s Googleplex headquarters resembles nowhere in modern life more than a brand new playground built in a design language borrowing heavily from Spy Kids. And though these Twelve disciples are unnamed for the moment, a few of them could immediately land book deals by going public, and every single one would always have by default not only the badge of “I landed a job at Google,” (which is really to say I have hit Life’s maximum level cap,) but “I worked at Google for a while, but ended up quitting to do something else,” which is guaranteed to make you the most interesting, intellectually superior person present in whatever crowd for the rest of your life. The ultra-cool Sarah Cooper quit Google to become a comedian and even got to talk to Kara Swisher! I won’t pretend to understand big tech’s diminutive bastardization of prestige, but “more than 90 academics” jumping to publish an open letter (adjacent to a huge DONATE: Support the Campaign to Stop Killer Robots button) in which they “write in solidarity with the 3100+ Google employees” who’s terrible boss decided to help some lackeys in the Pentagon set up their email and didn’t text back for a whole hour doesn’t sound 100% sincere. Notably, I don’t know how or why the fuck 90 people would go about collaborating on a single document, but if it really was managed, they definitely used Google Docs… At one point, it was fun to think about the history of the friendly side-scroller-playing garage ghouls and dorm dorks who gave cooky, wacko names to their dot com startups in parody and defiance of the lame-ass surname anagrams on the buildings of their established competitors, but those who’ve stuck around have only done so by becoming expert at SUCKING UP EVERYTHING around them, and it pisses me off every day how worried I am that my species will finally be done in by a company with a name like Yahoo! and be known only to a bunch of adolescent interdimensional silicon blobs 30 million years in the future as that bipedal race who remained dignified until the last 0.01% of their reign on Earth, when in way less than a single generation, they all just went FUCKING INSANE and blew themselves up because they suddenly hated all sense.

“Google” is perhaps the worst of these to have to shout in fear and/or anger in your last moments as it sounds in American English like you’ve startled your subject with a ticklish pinch followed so immediately by an esophagus-busting chokehold that the two events appear simultaneous, and in real English English, it almost always sounds like a parent speaking of a character on a pre-K children’s television programme whom they find quite foul and upsetting, but will manage to refrain from expressing so otherwise because they know that Teletubbies shit is the most quickly forgotten stage of television viewership. It’s fascinating how exclusive the word “Google” is to American English because in everything else it really is complete nonsense, but lets halt all etymological discussions right now because we’ve only now just finished with Monday.

The Soul Ledger

On Thursday, all of my Google experiences, suppositions, and soul-detaching screenshots were usurped when a thoroughly alarming internal company video called The Selfish Ledger was leaked to The Verge, which I watched once then and do not want to watch again for the sake of this piece, but I will. Though the big V has been disappointingly timid for years about editorializing — when tech journalism desperately needs some confident, informed opinion more than ever — Vlad Savov’s accompanying article should be read in its entirety, to which I can add my own terror where he perhaps could not. The production style is technically identical to that of the very popular thinkpiece-esque, motion-graphics-paired-with-obligatory-sharpie illustrated videos which you find playing at max volume on your mom’s iPad from where she’s fallen asleep on the couch at 9PM, but the repeating stock string soundtrack multiplies one’s discomfort as such that we would all end up in the fetal position without remembering the transition were it not for the appearance of trusty old Dank Jenkins, who’s face I thankfully associate heavily enough with his infamous down-and-out Tweet to be a welcome respite in attention before the very scary hypothesis for which it’s been buttering me up, as best summed by Vlad:

> The system would be able to “plug gaps in its knowledge and refine its model of human behavior” — not just your particular behavior or mine, but that of the entire human species. “By thinking of user data as multigenerational,” explains Foster, “it becomes possible for emerging users to benefit from the preceding generation’s behaviors and decisions.” Foster imagines mining the database of human behavior for patterns, “sequencing” it like the human genome, and making “increasingly accurate predictions about decisions and future behaviors.”

The next time the what if they do something scary question comes up in a casual conversation about Google, you’ll have something a lot more substantial than just speculation. Or will you? The Verge reached out for comment and got an awfully convenient response.

> This is a thought-experiment by the Design team from years ago that uses a technique known as ‘speculative design’ to explore uncomfortable ideas and concepts in order to provoke discussion and debate.

Wow! Leave it up to grand ole Googe to reveal the ultimate excuse for just about any suggestion or behavior, though it does seem almost deliberately uncomfortable, doesn’t it? No matter — whether or not this video was ever about a project or tangible product development, or simply to explore uncomfortable ideas because it is proof that the company has reached that critical Vatican stage — if you’ll remember — where they now feel comfortable exploring Very Bad, but Very easily made Real Ideas amongst themselves about what would happen if they allowed their system to nudge its users around a different, slightly less optimal route to the bar, let’s say — without their knowledge — in order for the system to collect traffic data for the sake of its own interests? Which would be, technically, in the interest of all Ledger users now and in the future, so why not?

> The ledger could be given a focus, shifting it from a system which not only tracks our behavior, but offers direction towards a desired result.”

This, my dear privacy-obsessed friends, is the real issue with data collection — its power over huge groups by way of their behavior and it is never going to be remedied in any significant way by ad-blockers or VPNs because the EndUser shall always out number you 50 to 1, even decades from now. EndUser does not understand — or, crucially, have any desire to understand anything technical about what leads to the PewDiePie videos playing on his filthy screen. Here’s a great opportunity to escape Silicon Valley’s technolibertarianism and resign your Darwinian empathy in favor of meaningful and truly-effective action: if you want to avoid a future Google Church (or Google Government, more worryingly,) you should invest your time, effort, and knowledge into electing officials more capable of understanding and regulating Big Tech.

Google Government

The internet as it stands is made possible by Google as the goto resource for online advertising. In 2016, “Google held 75.8 percent of the search ad market, bringing in $24.6 billion in revenue from search ads,” according to Recode. By 2019, “that’s expected to grow to $36.62 billion in revenue, or 80.2 percent of the market.” Google’s edge in user behavior and targeted advertising combined with their extensive resources available developers to integrate independent platforms with Google’s software services at various levels makes it very difficult for any advertising-funded individual or organization to compete online without dipping in to the Google universe. YouTube — a Google property since 2006 — has actively invested in and supported a new career path entirely within their own platform that is rapidly becoming popularly aspired-to by young children, while the reality of existence as a full-time YouTuber is far less glamorous than the immediately-visible surface would indicate, and the effort already expended by my generation in its pursuit has already made us insane.

So, what would the internet look like if Google didn’t exist? We know they’ve been working with the government now on various projects, but what if some terrible exposed transgression of theirs suddenly warranted an immediate shutdown and seizure of all Google properties? Well, we know from a post on Quora by Googler Ashish Kedia that even 5 years ago, the sudden absence of Google for “2–3 mins” set the internet into a bit of a panic, reducing overall traffic by 40%. In the time since, we’ve all grown exponentially more dependent on Google properties: billions of people rely on Google Maps for directions and, thousands of companies (including the Pentagon and other government institutions) rely on Gmail and GSuites for intercommunication, file sharing, task management, etc., and more and more academic institutions rely on Chromebook devices running connection-dependent operating systems. It’s not much of a stretch to argue that Google’s sudden disappearance would constitute a Civil Emergency in the United States, which will only become a stronger and more serious incentive for regulatory bodies to look the other way.

Though the tangible results of advertising have been quantified significantly in the past 20 years, one can’t help but wonder after watching YouTube ads for the new Mercedes-Benz S-Class on toy unboxing videos if the companies who spend big bucks on Google advertising understand where their money is going, but they know that if they don’t advertise there, their competitors will. This, of course, is a fundamental practice of a monopoly, and it’s yielded Google so much fucking money that they cannot possibly spend it fast enough, as evidenced by their investments in life extension — so that, perhaps, they will have more time on Earth to figure it out.

When you build a collection of the world’s smartest people in a self-sufficient environment that discourages exploration of other lifestyles and ideas, and you sustain the society with a gargantuan, relatively low-maintenance revenue stream, you create a culture which is not only well-primed for isolationism, but is also extremely inefficient. In fact, with its vast collection of abandoned products and properties, Google must surely be one of the most inefficient companies in history. Thinking back on recent software releases along with its recent entries into the hardware space, Google is also one of the worst competing tech companies. Very little aside from Gmail, Google Photos, Google Maps, and Chrome have found their place or garnered significant usership. Google Play Music is unintuitive and impossible, Google Allo and Google+ are all but forgotten addendums to other services, and Google Search — its core, original function — has been out of control for years, and all of them are designed blandly and excruciatingly tiring to look at.

Google Shun

If this all has stirred nothing more in you than a desire to eliminate Google from your own online life as much as possible, there are alternatives in almost every one of the sphere’s they dominate. As of late, DuckDuckGo has accumulated a fair amount of buzz and coverage as a private, more relevant alternative to Google’s plain old search engine. Though it is clever enough to list us as the first result for “extratone,” I’ve found it simply insufficient as a replacement in my own life because, essentially, it rarely delivers what I’m looking for. By contrast, Dropbox Paper is such an elegant cloud notetaking and word processing software that it makes Google Docs look simply idiotic (and warrants its own review very shortly.) For getting around, know that MapQuest is not only still around — it’s now a very competitive mobile navigation app.

I, myself, have allowed Google as complete of access to my information and behavior as possible because I believe “privacy” is a completely futile endeavor if one wishes to be a part of society, though I do often use alternatives to Google services simply because I fucking hate the way they look. If you want a more complete list of services and software that allow one to shun the Google God entirely, you’ll be forced to seek out less dignified sources like Lifehacker and Reddit and decide if the additional time you’ll spend using most of them to accomplish the same tasks is really worth your digital angst.

If Google were to be more explicit with its users and staff about its aspirations to take over control of our lives, there will be little to do but accept the future they intend to create because they’ve long been too powerful to control. In the meantime, I’d suggest you continue to use whatever software works best for you and refrain from wasting your time fretting on conspiratorial suppositions of what the tech industry may be doing to “invade your privacy,” because there is no longer any such thing, nor will there be ever again. However, I would also urge to you worship your own Gods, whomever they may be, for Google will never be worthy. I, for one, shall only pray to our Mother Sun.

#social #google #future #web #privacy

original post

[artcanary]

1-50

oh my god dude 

im gonna put this under a cut bc this is a lot. this is a ride, have fun i guess

1. Your first OC ever?god. its got to be Super Kitty. when i was like … an incredibly small child I used to draw comic strips about this feline caped crusader, who was friends with everyone in the city, and the comics always involved him stopping an evil banana man from stealing money from the local bank. He was paid with donuts for his service to the city. i still remember how to draw him. 

2. Do you have a personal favourite among your OCs?i’d get arrested if I didn’t answer this with Bronze, probably… but really, they’re very important to me

3. Have you ever adopted a character or gotten a character from someone else?man, i cant remember! i really dont think i have… P:

4. A character you rarely talk about?there’s loads of characters ive never even posted a single picture of on tumblr, i wouldnt even know where to start asdf

5. If you could make only one of your OCs popular/known, who would it be? bronze is the easy answer, but… i guess that could also go to Servant or Westrin. Servant has a comic project in the works that basically stars him, sort of a series of one-shots about the things he’s experienced, i feel like that would be a good thing to take off and run with. Westrin’s just fun as hell, i love the guy.

6. Two OCs of yours that look alike despite not being related?real talk now… there’s at least five different characters that i refer to as a whole as “bronze-tangential”, who started out as, “what would bronze be like if they were in this world?” and then becoming their own thing within said world because i just get stupid attached 

its an epidemic

7. Are your OCs part of any story or stories?nearly all of them, actually. that’s the main reason i make characters, after all! too many to really go into specifics here, again P: 

8. Do you RP as any of your OCs? If you do, introduce one of your RP OCs here!not often, but i think Bronze and Westrin are the most common ones. unless playing a character in dnd, or running an npc in dnd counts… then a whole lot more hahaha

9. Would you ever be willing to give any of your OCs to someone else?it depends on the circumstances. i don’t really like the idea, though. 

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design? Westrin’s old getup is a pain to draw, and there was one other design i did that I cant find anywhere… whichever way, i dont often tend to draw super complicated things often 

a couple fakemon ive designed though… heheh those can get pretty finicky

11. Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”? hmmmmmmmm my immediate thought was Eric Silverdale from a comic i was working on a few years ago. hes a darling, i want him to be my friend irl

12. Name an OC that isn’t yours but who you like a lothow could you do this to me i love each and every one of all my friends ocs GOD the first one who comes to mind is @d20-official‘s Smith, whos Bronze’s friend… everyone in that DND party actually

13. Do you have any troublemaker OCs? Rated on a scale from “harmless” to “honestly somewhat frightening”: -Baromet (charming and quite friendly but definitely a kleptomaniac),-Westrin (demigod of bards and travelers), -XEN09 (a nonsense hacker), -Conny (needlessly contrarian and dumb as HELL), -Enza Colie (long fucking story but hes a good-for-nothing), -Hemlocke (mad scientist, chaotic evil), -Iris (AI and hacker, VERY bad), -The Terminus (glitch-in-the-matrix demon, chaotic evil), -and Sydd (the Queen of the Faeries, hopefully the danger there needs no explaining :’D)

14. Introduce an OC with a tragic backstory Mmm… there’s a few of them, most obviously Lent (whose background I did a short comic about). Basically his entire town got eaten by ghosts and turned into zombies, he only barely survived with a sliver of his soul left. 

15. Do you like to talk about your OCs with other people?yes, i often discuss storylines and such with friends

16. Which one of your OCs would be the best at biology (school subject)? Probably Bronze’s dad! I don’t talk about him much, but his name’s Devon Reed, and he was a biotech developer specialising in android design. 

I often describe him as being something of a reverse Arthur Weasley - a very fatherly scientist fascinated to the moon and back with the concept of magic. 

17. Any OC OTPs? having trouble thinking of a lot of them right now, but there’s Eric + Lent & Naiadine + Tailias from Emerald Sigil, Avken + Baromet from my space campaign world, Sydd + Wyvv from my unnamed campaign world, and I’ve been considering Westrin + Servant as an interesting dynamic in Servant’s story

18. Any OC crackships? My character Bismuth and @autistictimeknight​‘s oc Eros. Theyre so fucking in love, I love it. Its been awhile but I do still think about them sometimes.

As I recall, Eros is an empath, she can read other people’s emotions. But Bismuth is a robot, and Eros can’t read her. Because of this Eros can let go of her fear of unintentionally manipulating the emotions of her date, which would hold her back from most other relationships. 

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)Hey, meet Bronze! I definitely do not talk about them every five minutes, why would you say that. 

Bronze was with me through two of the hardest years of my life so far, and being a DND character they grew with me, both as a fighter and as a person. They were non-binary before I started using those pronouns, they were the first character or person or anything who I fought someone about using the right pronouns for, they make a great icebreaker for if I want to see how someone reacts to non-binary pronouns … 

One funny anecdote about Bronze is that when I first made them, their “gimmick” was that they would sometimes glitch out and mess up their speech, mostly because I wanted an excuse not to engage in the roleplaying (which I was very bad at). The interesting thing is that as I got better at interacting with the group, we both grew out of needing it very quickly. 

I’m very proud of Bronze. 

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?Westrin is a bard! His singing voice sounds like Bill Wurtz and these are his theme songs.

21. Your most artistic OCProbably Westrin again, he writes a lot of songs… and Hallux is a game designer?

22. Is there any OC of yours people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how? I honestly dont know… no-one talks to me about them, haha! 

people use all manner of pronouns for bronze, though. 

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?I’m gonna go with Enza for this one. Enza Colie was originally written entirely because I wanted an antagonist for a short starring his sister, Jane Colie. But the more I fleshed out his reasonings for acting how he did and explored his character, the more I realised he’d make an even more interesting character if allowed to have a redemption arc, too. 

I just want to state for the record that I was very reluctant to the idea, and he basically dragged his way out of the villain pit entirely of his own accord. I am dubiously proud of him, and also a bit scared. 

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?Probably either Eric (Big Man, Best Friend), Crocus (Mother figure), Reed (Father Figure), Westrin (hed just make a good friend u kno??), or Bismuth (she makes good conversation!)

25. The OC that resembles you the most (same hobby, height, shared like/dislike for something etc?)probably the homestuck fan-troll Hallux, but that’s mostly because they were based on a troll-sona I made awhile ago. They’re a hope/prospit game designer who is small and full of rage and love

oh, and there’s dave! dave’s a superhero speedster, existing in a modern-day superhero version of seattle. theyre idiot, just like me,

26. Have you ever had to change your OC’s design or something else about them against your will? this is an interesting one… i don’t think ive ever had something Bad in a design ive done called to my attention by someone, but I did create my character Servant at around the same time I was first really expanding the diversity of my casts. (since i don’t talk about him often, a little context: he’s a magic spirit creature bound to human form to serve the royal family of the land and follow their orders.) 

somehow, younger-and-more-stupid me managed to have the revelation that making this “eternal slave” character literally anything other than a white man, especially as a white author, would be Pretty Not Good. im … thats really, really not something i should pat myself on the back for, but i do consider it one of the biggest bullets dodged in my artistic career so far that i realised that not all representation is good representation so quickly, before i could make that incredibly, incurably stupid mistake. 

after that, trying to make sure my characters and their presentations don’t harm anyone pretty much has become a paranoia. i don’t seem to have stepped on any toes yet, but when it inevitably happens, please let me know - i didnt know, and i want to fix it! 

27. Any OCs that were inspired by a certain song? None that I can think of, actually! I don’t really do that often. 

28. Your most dangerous OC? god damn it i have no idea!!! is it the terminus? glitch in the matrix god of chaos motherfucker?is it sarle? terrifying calculating scientist with the power of the soul at her fingertips ??? is it ares??? is it athena????? is it petra?????? the gatekeeper???? 

… actually, the gatekeeper might be it, if “dangerous” just refers to “the amount of raw power it can wield”. the Gatekeeper is a titanic entity that exists in interdimensional multiverse space, and its implied to have the ability to create and destroy entire universe bubbles at will. for what cosmic purpose, no-one knows. 

at a more personal scale, though, literally all of the aforementioned characters are pretty bad to run into too. 

29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they’re going?god. Mina or Tawn. Tawn is the Indiana Jonesy type and probably dumb enough, but also competent enough not to get into too much trouble there. Mina would probably drag her friends along. 

30. Which one of your OCs would most likely have a secret stuffed animal collection? XEN09. No-one knows, because no-one knows xir personal identity. Xe absolutely does, though. It’s less of a secret if you know xir in person, but good luck finding out about it otherwise. 

31. Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really)dave just reblogs memes all the time tbh. they like to keep tabs on the ridiculous superhero news going on, and they show human jokes and cat videos to their alien gf. they dont really post or add to posts, but they talk in tags a lot. 

32. Which one of your OCs would be the most suitable horror game protagonist and why? i want to say tawn because i literally just realised ive been imagining their voice as sounding like luigi this entire fucking time and i never realised until this exact instant

33. Your shyest OC?probably baromet. they prefer to keep to themself in their hideout, with their collection of shiny things. they don’t really enjoy trying to communicate much, mostly because they expect to get yelled at. 

34. Do you have any twin characters?Yes! At least two sets; 

- Crocus and Sarle. (x) (x) They don’t exactly have a very well-developed relationship, but they are both quite important to the plot of my campaign world, and they are both very interesting. Crocus is a motherly figure who just exudes friendliness, while Sarle is .. very much not that, a researcher studying very gruesome things and pushing the boundaries of reality. 

- Jane and Enza Colie. I haven’t talked a whole lot about either of them here, but I’d rather leave their story to do the talking whenever I get around to it. Essentially, the both of them were intended to do the dirty work for their crime boss family, but Jane ditched to study medicine. Most of the conflict between the two of them comes out of Enza not understanding why she made the choice she did, and coming to understand how he’s been manipulated. 

35. Any sibling characters? I can’t really think of any off the top of my head, I should … I should really work on that. 

I can talk about Westrin, though. Westrin (a demigod of many things, but namely bards, travel, travelers, and people who are lost) often becomes close friends with mortals, sometimes practically adopting them. These people who consider him family, and people who have received his blessing, are able to use his surname, Brilanta, as their own if they choose. So I guess all of the Brilantas are siblings, at least in spirit. 

Oh, and XEN09 has like, seven siblings. Xe is the second-oldest, and least remarkable. 

36. Do you have OC pairs where the other part belongs to someone else (siblings, lovers, friends etc)? I already talked about Eros and Bismuth up there a ways in question 18, but I’ll talk about another relationship here. @autistictimeknight​‘s character, Nova the Alchemist, is mentor and adopted parental figure to my character Munna. Munna … Munna isn’t a very good apprentice. She tries very hard. 

37. Introduce an OC who is not quite human That’s most of them, I’m not quite sure what to say here. Bronze is an android? Bronze again? Westrin? All the aliens ?? 

38. Which one of your OCs would be the best dancer? man. uh. westrin or jean. or perhaps valencia. 

39. Introduce any character you want ??? uhhhHHHhhHHH Lord Brillium is the reigning deity of the Cloud Kingdoms in the other campaign setting I’m working on. They represent light and the quest for knowledge, and spend most of their days in the Cathedral Observatory watching the stars. 

40. Any fond memories linked to your characters? Feel free to share!one time bronze flew a hover-bike through the stained glass window in a cathedral blaring all star by smash mouth on their iguana

also one time bronze rickrolled a rakshasa demon and then pulled updog on it like, two minutes later

another time bronze scared off an entire army by pretending to be an automated security system 

41. Has anyone drawn fanart of your OCs? If yes, maybe show a picture or two here (remember sources & permissions!)ive got a whole little folder on here from all you blessed people !!!! right now ive got a drawing quinn did of one o fmy characters as my lockscreen

but i think the one i’ll really never ever get over is this piece of Jane, by @rabendraws​ / @owoltron​: 

(i bet you thought i forgot about this, dude. dude. think again.) 

42. Which one of your OCs would be the most interested in Greek gods? this is kind of a weird question, m, I feel like Bismuth would find learning about the mythos utterly fascinating, as would Tawn. 

43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favour some certain traits or looks? It’s time to confesshaha. uh. i might. 

aside from the entire “bronze-tangential characters” thing i mentioned awhile back, I tend to really like designing characters with hair color lighter than their skin color. it just looks so cool man. i love drawing freckles but dont put them on enough characters. i like really curly hair, but also really long and flowy hair. i like drawing triangular body types, and pointy/prominent noses. 

44. Something you like about your OCs in generaluhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is a really vague question. m. m. 

45. A character you no longer use?there’s old versions of characters, but a lot of my older ones have been somehow repurposed. I guess there’s Turien, my first-ever DND character, who’s just kind of sitting dead now. Haven’t really done anything with him other than a pretty recent tangential character. 

46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?Not that I can think of.

47. Has anyone ever (friendly) claimed any of your OCs as their child? Im certain it’s happened, but I can’t remember any specific instances. 

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pureSpring. spring knows nothing of th dangers of the world who is letting them into fights someon eneeds to stop this

(spring roll, hehe.) 

49. Which one of your OCs would most likely enjoy memesim not sure what this question is asking since many of my ocs actively enjoy memes including but not limited to westrin, dave, bronze, xen09, iris, and doctor archersen

50. Give me the good ol’ OC talk here. Talk about anything you wanti think. i think im going to pass on this one. i gave you the good old oc talk. your damn turn, yall: 

if you have any questions about any of these guys feel free to shoot one at me!

thats all from me im tired and its one am. techskylander you absolute madman 

[found--family]

Possessed!Dean, s13 finale?

This awesome Q+A about what might happen with Dean at the end of s13 is amazing. Go read it, get your speculative juices flowing. 

I wanted to share a few thoughts on what might happen with Dean and the events at the end of Season 13. Here we go!

First off, I intitially thought Cage!Michael would be the best character to bring back to ‘posess’ dean (if that actually happens) and would be best suited to the kind of uncharacteristically ‘Dean’ clothes we’ve spied Jensen wearing on-set.

Our Michael is pissed and wanting revenge / redemption of his own, surely: 

He might take on AU!Michael to redeem himself (or simply lend his Archangel grace to the boys’ spell?) or maybe he’s just so far gone (as Chuck may have mentioned back at the end of season 11) that if he were to get free of the cage and hear about the portals etc, he would be willing to team up with his alter-self and break down the barriers of reality, just for shits and giggles.

Super-twisted double-Archangel badassery—? I’m here for that.

I’ve also seen a few posts around the place pointing out why Alastair would be a good ‘possesser’ for Dean since a big theme this season is ‘facing your abusers’ (Sam + Lucifer, Rowena + Lucifer, Cas + Naomi..) But where would he fit in to the storyline and how? Since he’s a (dead)Demon he would be coming back from The Empty.

Though that does bring me nicely to the main attraction..

The linked Q+A at the start of this post points out a brilliant little thing that may or may not have been specifically touched on in the show: Heaven is failing, yes. But Hell is also without a caretaker, remember. So who’s to say the cage isn’t broken or unguarded? Who’s to say Cage!Michael hasn’t already escaped/been busted out/kidnapped to be used somehow?

I thought Cage!Michael would be the best option to possess Dean (if possession really is where the story will lead). Especially considering evil AU!Michael trying to fuck up the universe - I think it makes for an awesome parallel. 

BUT— The Entity, guys! OF COURSE!

For such an epic character / realm to be introduced and not revisited would be wasteful - because there is so. much. potential, but also why bother dangling it in front of us in the first place if they won’t go back to it? (again, as is stated in that linked Q+A). 

The Empty + Dean + Jack were all catalysts for Cas’ character growth commencing early in the season (climbing out of his depression slump and into the light of self-worth, bit by bit). If Jack and Dean are still around and still playing important roles in Cas’ story, can The Entity really just be cast aside never to be seen again? It feels like a loose thread. Especially since Cas is the only being to EVER awake in The Empty - no doubt that faceless dude wants answers (which he totally made a point of saying to Dead!Cas).

And then there’s Billie, aka, Ms. Death. 

She knows something we’re jonesing to know. Dean is important, Death needs Dean — but WHY? What for? What does she know / what are her plans? She’s not happy about the walls between universes breaking down, we know that much. And with God M.I.A. it kinda falls on her to be caretaker of reality, doesn’t it? She’s the last line of defence — or forewarning. 

She has spoken of The Empty in the past, revealed she can throw a Human soul in there if she so wishes (and that was back when she was just a lowly Reaper), and yet The Entity told us that ‘Angels and Demons’ come to rest in his domain - no mention at all of Humans. So was it just an idle threat? Or is it actually possible for Human souls to enter that realm, and it took God himself and the creation of Heaven and Hell and the divying up of souls therein to cancel out the need for Human souls to go there?

((—I’ll come back to this in a minute..))

And let’s not forget there’s more than just parallel worlds converging at stake: Heaven is about to crumble and let loose billions of souls to spill out over the Earth, but add to that the comments about Rowena futzing with fate causing a Butterfly Effect - who’s to say her actions haven’t set into motion dangerous consequences that will come to a head in the finale, whatever they may be..?

As for the expected themes of Season 13′s finale:

There has been a long line of beginning-and-end mirrors for previous seasons that would work well with season 13, too - i.e. start with someone dying (physically or otherwise), then bring them back near the end, or vice versa. We had Cas resurrected at the start and met The Entity, so maybe the end will see someone else ‘die’ (in some manner) - i.e. Dean - and welcome back The Entity as a kind of ‘living embodiment of death’, able to walk in the mortal realm by inhabiting Dean.

TheEntity!Dean — I’m here for that. ((—and that theory continues below..))

What would be The Entity’s intention, though..? I don’t know. Maybe it has no choice in the matter and just has to ‘make the best of it’? As for Heaven and all those souls and a lack of angels, I do have a theory:

Ms. Death will open a gateway into The Empty (a bigger hole than she may be accustomed to?) and deposit all the souls from Heaven into that dark abyss for an eternal slumber. Heaven will cease to exist, and perhaps those last remaining Angels will lend their power to Billie in order to open that portal. So: no more Heaven, no more Angels (bar a few, like Lucifer, Jack, Cage!Michael, and perhaps Gabriel and Cas). 

Dean somehow helps Billie accomplish this, perhaps by distracting The Empty? Sam and the others help too, but basically we end up with Dean’s soul trapped in The Empty (along with billions of sleeping, distant Human souls from Heaven). While The Entity is either forced out or sneaks out of his realm, stealing Dean’s body on the way and wearing it around Mortalville (I like this idea, because remember Misha’s creepy-awesome Entity voice?! There was a distinct Transatlantic 1940s accent mixed in there, and that would suit Dean’s strange vintage-esque wardrobe perfectly).

But there’s still more to deal with: Lucifer, at least one (bad) Michael, and the portals between universes. Sam, Rowena, Jack, Mary, Cas and our Apoc!world buddies would play into this battle of closure: who will die? Who will kill who? Who will end up where? How will they close the rifts for good? What will become of Jack and Cas and their Angelic grace? Will Apoc!World be made a paradise by certain folks choosing to sacrifice themselves or choose to stay there..?

So. Many. Questions.

I like my Ms.Death-Dean-Entity-Heaven theory for the ending of the season though — Dean ending up where Cas had been in the beginning. 

As for Destiel and the hopes of it coming into the forefront, how about this:

The Entity is forced out / accidentally falls out / escapes The Empty after wrestling with Dean on some interdimensional level. Dean is trapped in The Empty (dead or not dead, awake or not awake, and maybe the others realise it or maybe they don’t) and The Empty walks free. But during their tousel, The Entity’s consciousness (or whatever it is) melds and mixes with Dean’s: Dean sees what The Entity sees — or rather, what it saw, its memory of digging into Cas’ memories, thus, Dean sees Cas’ memories — all of his thoughts and feelings. Suddenly, Dean knows truly what Cas thought and felt - secrets about Angelhood and Humanity and Dean himself, all his yearnings and fears and unspoken truths. 

Maybe that’s the last scene of Dean this season, or maybe not. But reserved for Season 14 is how Dean deals with discovering all those truths about Cas (among other things, since being trapped in The Empty with no ride out is kinda big deal) — unless he represses them because it’s TOO MUCH (kinda like Rose with the Tardis inside her or Donna being a Timelord). But I swear to Chuck if they really do something like this and then make Dean flat-out deny it like it couldn’t possibly be true and The Entity was just trying to torture or trick him, I WILL explode. 

One more thing ..

That beautiful stuff about Dean’s soul and Cas’ grace (which exists mostly in meta and fanfiction, not sure they’ve mentioned it on the show?) would be an amazing addition to the finale this season. 

I haven’t mused on how this would weave into the plot and work with battle plans and other characters and all that jazz, but I think it’s something way worth exploring and the timing is kinda perfect, right now. 

Ok, maybe one little theory..

The nine Angels use their grace and all of their selves to help funnel the billions of souls through the portal into The Empty, which Dean is helping Ms. Death keep open, somehow. Gabe is manning Heaven with Cas and keeping the portal open on their end as the souls exit. Once they are all gone and the other angels along with them, Heaven will close — or rather, cease to be, and as it collapses in on itself and disappears into nothingness, Gabe goes with it. With his last remaining bit of strength he pushes Cas free of the collapse. Cas survives, now graceless, and the souls are safely in The Empty. 

But Dean is gone. He tousled with The Empty, got sucked in during the madness..

Dean awakes in The Empty — not of his own accord, but because something inside him wakes him up — its Cas’ grace. And that will be his way home, somewhow. 

Wow.. Okay.. never really done a mega spec-post before, but this was fun.

Please add your thoughts and anything I’ve missed. Also please feel free to yell about your own awesome theories below.

^o^

[izzy-b-hands]

What’s Sure In A Universe

My HalloQueen gift fic for Sammyspreadyourwings on the DL server! I hope you like this Sammy; the prompt was a fun one to write! 

My prompt was: magic and curses, with a focus on saving someone from a curse. 

I decided to take a different route re: the magic and curse, in that it isn’t coming from something supernatural exactly, but something multi-dimensional which isn’t exactly natural then due to that (because I was thinking about Brian and space when I wrote this lol.) 

If I had to rate this, I’d put it at M/Mature-nothing too NSFW (no smut at all in this one), nothing too scary, but there is the implication of possible death should the lads fail to solve the curse.

Title taken from a line in this poem: https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2015/10/08/on-relativity/

Synopsis: Set in 1979.  Brian/Freddie. There’s nothing like a curse from some sort of inter/multi-dimensional beast to bring a band together, especially when it comes with a riddle or two to solve! 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Nah.” 

“I’m sorry?” the eight-foot tall, multi-armed creature with something writhing for hair, asked with its creaky and ancient-sounding voice. 

“This is bullshit,” Roger laughed, setting down his drum sticks and coming round to the open area of the studio where it was stood. “Curses aren’t real.” 

“Do you see your friend?” the creature scoffed, and pointed to Brian, who at the touch of the creature had dropped to the floor, John only barely able to grab the Red Special from him as he fell. “What is this, if not real?” 

“How are you doing that?” Roger asked, ignoring the creature’s question as he circled it. “The floating thing? Where are the wires? You must have them...love to know who Bri pissed off enough for this elaborate of a prank.” 

“This...” the creature sighed, and rubbed the bridge of its nose with its claws. “Is not a prank. And I’m an interdimensional beast made of fear and space dust, this is just...me. I float, it’s a thing we all do. Like how your kind walk on two legs?” 

“What did Brian do to deserve this?” John asked, not so much scared as curious, watching the creature with a careful eye. 

“I don’t usually have to give the backstory,” the creature said. “It isn’t enough to know I’ve cursed him, and now there are things you must do to save him?” 

Roger, John, and Freddie shared a look, then shook their heads. 

“Fine,” the creature spat. “If you simply must know: it’s random. Each year, on my birthday-” 

“Interdimensional hell beasts get birthdays?” John interrupted.

“Just a beast,” the creature said. “My cousins are hell beasts, but it’s an entirely different sub-species, not that you would understand the nuance of that. And yes, we do get birthdays. Anyway! I must curse one being in another dimension or universe on my birthday each year, or I will die.” 

“Have you considered dying?” Roger asked. “Sounds like a shit existence, I mean. If you have to hurt others to live-” 

“Roger, that’s getting into a fairly deep topic,” Freddie interjected. “Couldn’t we also say that of what we do to the earth?” 

“Oh shit,” Roger nodded. “Y’know Bri knows the most about this stuff, could really use him um...not cursed, to contribute to the conversation.” 

The creature groaned miserably. “Did you really think that would work? I would just...uncurse him, which by the way, isn’t a thing? You have to break it, now that I’ve set it upon him. I would say nice try, but it wasn’t. That was terrible.” 

“Awful rude, for someone who broke into and is interrupting our studio time,” Freddie muttered. 

The creature checked the Timex watch on its wrist, and sighed. “I have an appointment two dimensions over in fifteen lightyears. I don’t have time for all this; do you want the rules of how to save him from certain death, or not?” 

“We didn’t say we didn’t!” Freddie replied as he knelt by Brian, frowning at how shallow Brian’s breathing was. 

“You...seem more upset than the others,” the creature said.

“Well, they are dating,” Roger said. “I mean, I’m not happy with this either, John I don’t think is either-” 

John nodded. 

“But we also aren’t fucking him and living with him, so the connection is slightly different, you know?” Roger continued. 

“We have egg pods, and do not take mates,” the creature replied. 

“Mmhm...gross,” Roger nodded. “You want to give us the rules and fuck off then?” 

“Humans,” the creature muttered. “I’m not enjoying this either! I don’t like spending my birthday away from home, doing this. Fucking mortals on this plane...rude and mean and too moist!” 

“Do...do you eat us?” John asked, clearly disgusted. 

“No! Don’t be gross,” the creature replied. “You’re just...odd, on this plane. All moist with meat and wet bones inside...you know, there’s only one other dimension with things like you, and it’s not even half as shitty. Just so you’re aware.” 

“Are you going to give the instructions to save my boyfriend, or not?” Freddie demanded as he tried to pull Brian onto the couch at the side wall of the studio. “Because frankly, I’m fucking sick of your face and this shit.” 

The creature appeared aghast. “Yeah. Rude fucks...tell you what, let me write it all down so I can just go, okay? I’m sick of all of you too.” 

“Oh look, something we agree on,” Roger spat sarcastically as the creature took a pen and paper from John, scribbling furiously.

“How did you learn how to write in our language?” John asked, only to take a step back at the glare the creature gave him. “Jesus, sorry for asking. Just wondering.” 

“I hate all of you,” the creature sighed, and handed John the paper and pen back. “I’ll be back to suck his soul out when you inevitably fail. See you then, assholes!” 

The creature stomped back through the the way it had come, pushing aside the now-broken studio doors, and was gone. 

“Wow!” Roger gasped. “What a dick! Honestly...if we wanted to know if other universes or dimensions have manners, the answer is apparently no.” 

“Can I see that?” Freddie asked, striding over to take the paper from John, eyes scanning it. “We have time, at least.” 

“How much?” Roger asked.

“A week,” Freddie replied. “And there are four things to find, with these little riddle-like things to tell us what they are? Then...god, shitty handwriting...” 

“They did have to write with claws,” John noted. 

“They don’t get an excuse after cursing Brian,” Freddie said sternly. “Ah, got it. We present the items in front of Brian...if we did it right and got all the right things, the curse is broken.” 

“This is just a shopping list,” Roger said. “A really specific one, but still.” 

“Do your shopping lists usually have riddles?” Freddie asked.

Roger shrugged. “If I’m bored.” 

“But...you know what you need, so...” Freddie sighed. “Never mind, if it’s fun for you, go for it, darling. Maybe it’ll give you an advantage in helping with this.” 

“What are the riddle things?” John asked. “I didn’t look at it myself, not close...” 

“We need something Brian loves-” Freddie began to read.

“Red Special,” Roger interjected. 

“Something he loathes,” Freddie continued. 

“Me, sometimes,” John said. 

“Hush, he’s never loathed you,” Freddie scolded. “And even if he did, we aren’t giving you up for this. There’s got to be more than one answer to these, but one answer must be ‘more right’ than the others. Anyway, then we need something he thought or thinks is lost, and something he lacks.” 

“His house keys,” Roger said. “And...lacks...huh.” 

“We have to be careful too,” Freddie said, reading on. “It notes here that whatever we use as the items will be sacrificed and pulled into a different dimension, so I think that means we don’t get them back.” 

“So that’s no using John, or the Red Special,” Roger said. “Well, what else can we use then?” 

“I don’t know, right off hand,” Freddie replied. “We could get Brian back home, you two could stay over tonight and help me think of things? I can get us dinner-” 

“You don’t have to bribe us to help you with this,” John chuckled. “Dinner is nice, but we’d be staying with you regardless.” 

Roger nodded. “First, there’s too much of him to lug home without help. Second, he’s our friend too, so we want to help. And third, don’t you worry about dinner, we’ll pick something up on the way back to yours and Brian’s. My treat, not yours, because you have enough on your plate as it is.” 

---

“He’s breathing,” John said as they flopped Brian onto his and Freddie’s bed. “He’s okay for now.” 

But that was all he did, breathe, and seem to be asleep, or in something like a coma. He didn’t respond to stimulus, didn’t respond to them talking to him, touching him, at all. It was close enough to death to be unsettling to all of them, even if they couldn’t admit it out loud. 

“He loves me,” Freddie mused as they made their way to the sitting room. “Maybe...” 

“Did we not already agree that none of us are being sacrificed for this?” Roger asked. “No, Fred. Besides, he loves lots of things besides the Red Special and you. Space...” 

“Can’t really bottle that up and present it to someone though,” John remarked. 

“True,” Roger said. “His parents...that’s still people, no human sacrifice for this...animals he loves, but that doesn’t work either...” 

“This shouldn’t be so hard,” John sighed, dropping onto the couch. 

“Don’t think it would be a curse if it was too easy to break,” Freddie said as he sat beside John. “But you’re right. This one is puzzling. They all are.” 

“Fairy tale logic,” Roger said, thudding into a chair across from them, a foot rested on the coffee table in between the chair and couch. “That’s what we need.” 

“Exactly,” Freddie agreed. 

“Is it funny how much he would hate this, if it wasn’t him cursed?” John asked with a small smile. “Backwards, almost magical logic, creatures from beyond our understanding of time and space...” 

“I think the creature would intrigue him,” Roger replied. “But yeah, the rest of it he might wrinkle his nose at.” 

“Let’s move back to loathes, maybe,” Freddie said. “If we bounce from riddle to riddle, eventually we’ll come up with an answer for each one.” 

“Cruelty to animals, to people,” John listed. “Rudeness in general.” 

“Too-crumbly biscuits,” Freddie mumbled as he leaned back and looked into the hall, his eyes on the doorway of the bedroom. 

Roger frowned worriedly as he saw Freddie’s gaze, locked where it was. “Really? Why don’t you tell us about that? I mean, if all we have to do is buy biscuits he hates...” 

Freddie giggled, and Roger let out a sigh of relief. 

“No. He will give you an essay on it, if you go shopping with him,” Freddie replied. “But I don’t know if that’s enough for this. Too minor of a thing.” 

“Failure?” John offered. “The idea of it, at least. The feeling that someone sees him as having failed.” 

Roger nodded. “One of the latest reviews he was just violent about, do you guys remember?” 

“Yes,” Freddie said. “He burned the copies our parents sent us of that particular magazine. Absolutely fired up about it; I think it was because he knew his parents had read it.” 

“I’ve got a copy,” Roger reached into the bag that held their takeaway that they had yet to break into. “Bought it to burn or tear up myself on a bad day, but I can give it up for Brian’s sake. Goodness knows the assholes will always write new ones...” 

Freddie took the magazine from Roger, and set it by the coffee table. “One down. What about lost?” 

“If we can be horribly honest,” John replied. “He could lose his head, if it wasn’t attached.”

Freddie looked thoughtful. “He’s afraid he’s lost his thesis. Well, not the thesis itself. But he worries about when he’ll get back to it, if he can get back to it. Maybe his notes from that? If we made copies, of course.” 

“We have hands, if you have extra paper and pens,” Roger said, waving his hands as if to show them off.

Freddie smiled. “I know where he keeps them in the closet. We have to be careful with them; I don’t know that he has other copies...” 

“We’ll be careful,” John and Roger promised in one voice. And they meant it; the last thing any of them would want to do would be to get Brian back only to have him pass out from finding out something had happened to notes for his thesis. 

---

Three hours later, the takeaway had been devoured, and the notes were copied. 

“I think my fingers are numb,” Roger announced. “Good show, though. Two left.” 

“Lacks,” John mused. “The ability to dance.” 

“You would say that,” Freddie said with chuckle and shake of his head.

“I have eyes,” John said apologetically. “Can’t lie about what they see. He does his best.” 

“He does,” Freddie agreed. “But we can’t present dancing skills to him in a physical object.” 

“The ability to wear shoes aside from clogs?” Roger asked. 

“You’ve seen him in other shoes!” Freddie laughed. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like them as much as clogs.” 

“True, but again, we need something we can present in a physical object,” Freddie said. “I might have something...” 

He stood, and pulled a ring box from the drawer of the end table near the couch. “I know we can’t...do it proper, you know? But we’d talked about exchanging rings, at least.” 

“How long have you had this?” Roger asked, taking the box carefully from Freddie and opening it. “It’s lovely.” 

“Simple,” John noted, leaning over to peer at it as Roger handed the box back to Freddie. “Now, knowing his ability to lose things...how many extras have you bought?” 

Freddie smiled. “Haven’t done that, but the jeweler did offer to replace any lost rings for either of us for the next two years. He was very kind about all of it, honestly. And I’ve had it about a year...” 

“You’ve not been working up that long to propose?” Roger smiled, then sighed. “Oh, Fred.” 

“I know he wants this as much as I do,” Freddie protested. “I just need it to be the right moment, that’s all.” 

“Candles and fireworks,” John joked.

“Not so much as that,” Freddie smirked. “Well, I did have candles for it, I suppose. Over a dinner, just him and I, maybe. I don’t know...” 

“This is perfect,” John said. “You can get a replacement easily, Brian lacks it, and is somewhat aware that he lacks it.” 

“One left!” Roger crowed triumphantly as Freddie set the ring box to the side with the copies of the notes and the magazine. “Love?” 

“Being right,” John said, then giggled as Freddie batted at his shoulder. “I’m right and you know it!” 

“I do, but still,” Freddie said with a smile. “Be nice, and list something that can be presented in an object, please.” 

“Red Special, you, his parents, space, clogs, animals, music, swimming,” Roger added. “Traveling...er...breathing? I’ve gone too general with it now I fear.” 

“Slightly,” Freddie agreed. “I think most of us love being able to breathe.” 

They sat, and thought, and the clock ticked on towards midnight, but none of them moved to get ready for bed. 

“What about a six pence piece?” Freddie said suddenly. “He loves them as picks, and it’s as close as putting in the Red Special as we can get.” 

“Let’s do it!” Roger said, pulling a six pence from his pocket, and grabbing up the other things from the floor near the coffee table. 

They piled into the bedroom, settling the things on the foot of the bed near Brian’s feet. 

“...Something’s supposed to happen now, yes?” John asked as the clock in the room ticked to break the silence. 

“Thought so,” Freddie sighed, pulling the paper with the curse instructions on it from his trouser pocket. “Doesn’t say we have to do anything else.” 

“Maybe we’ve got something wrong,” Roger said, reaching for the six pence and the magazine. “Fuck!” 

“Careful,” Freddie winced as a drop of Roger’s blood hit the bedspread. “Papercut?” 

“Can this shit review take literally anything else from me?!” Roger cried dramatically, tossing the magazine back on the bed. “Sorry. Just...nervous. This should have worked.” 

Freddie stared at the drop of blood. 

“I can see wheels turning,” John said. “Let us in on what you’re thinking?” 

“Put the six pence back in your pocket, Rog,” Freddie said. “It’s us.” 

“What?” 

Freddie dipped into the drawer of the end table near the bed, and pulled out a needle, a bit of thread still in the eye of it. He pulled the thread out, and pricked his finger on it, letting a few drops of blood spill onto the paper with the curse instructions. 

He handed it off to Roger and John, who winced and did the same. 

Roger put the six pence back in his pocket, and set the paper down in its spot. 

A moment passed...

And nothing.

“Fuck,” Freddie hissed. “I really thought I had someth-” 

He paused as the items rose off the bed, shook, then blinked out of existence. 

“What in the everloving fuck,” John muttered under his breath. 

“Excellent question,” Roger nodded. “No idea on the answer though.” 

“Thought this wasn’t real,” John said. 

“I may have to retract that previous statement,” Roger admitted. “There’s evidence to disprove it, after all.” 

Brian’s breathing was better, there was color in his face, but he didn’t wake. 

“But we did it right, didn’t we?” Freddie asked as they slowly changed themselves for the night, pulling on nightclothes and tossing their day clothes aside in a corner of the room. 

“I think we did,” Roger said. “But...” 

“Maybe he’s just tired,” John said softly. “I’m sure I would be, after all this, even if I was knocked out for it. We could stay in here, in case he wakes up?” 

Blankets and extra pillows were grabbed and arranged on the floor for Roger and John. Freddie drew the curtains over the bedroom window, then took the other side of the bed, only after retrieving a new ring box from a drawer in their dresser. He set it on the end table on Brian’s side, fingers lingering over it for an extra moment. 

“He’ll be okay,” Roger assured from the floor, his eyes on Freddie. “That’ll be a nice surprise for him when he wakes up, Fred.” 

Freddie nodded, but didn’t lay down as he got in the bed, instead staying sat up, watching Brian’s chest rise and fall. 

“It’s past midnight now,” John murmured. “Go to bed, Freddie. We can’t do anything else for him right now. It’ll be okay. Just let him rest.” 

---

“Something’s burning,” Freddie mumbled into his pillow, and raised his head. “Wonder what Brian’s making...” 

It hit him like a jolt of lightning. Brian. 

He nearly fell out of the bed making his way to the kitchen, because it would almost seem too good to be true if-

Brian, awake and smiling, turning to greet him while John tossed the burning food off the pan and into the sink. 

“Good morning,” Brian said cheerfully. “Rather, afternoon. Nearly noon now, actually!” 

Freddie wrapped him in a hug, pressing kisses to his face. 

“I did burn the pancakes,” Brian laughed. “Don’t know if I deserve kisses for that.” 

“You don’t,” Roger said, tapping a finger on his empty plate. “We’ve been trying to make something other than toast for an hour now, Fred, but don’t hold your breath.” 

“That said, the toast has been good,” John added as he finished scraping the pan and put a new bout of batter into it. “And we’ll get these done right, eventually.” 

“In the meantime,” Brian said as Freddie let him go. “Coffee and toast?” 

Freddie nodded, then stopped as he caught the glint of the ring on Brian’s finger. “Yes?” 

Brian looked puzzled, then down to his hand. “Oh! Yes, of course! And I’ve got a ring for you too...just had it...” 

“In the fridge,” Roger and John said at once, not skipping a beat. 

Brian nodded, and pulled a velvet ring box out of the fridge. “Sorry. Had it in my hand when I grabbed the milk, I think. A bit cold, but it should fi-” 

He was cut off by another kiss from Freddie, who had wrapped himself again around Brian. 

“Get it put on so you can warm it up,” Brian smiled, pulling the ring from the box with shaking hands as Freddie let him go again. 

The ring glinted in the sun streaming through the windows of the flat, and cheesy as he knew it might be, it brought Freddie to tears. 

“This is an engagement brunch now,” Roger declared. “Which means we can’t burn the pancakes again.” 

“I won’t,” John said. “No lovebirds in the kitchen is my rule as chef, however. You two sit down, and we’ll get the celebration started.” 

---

The rest of the day was dedicated to it, low-key though they had to be. But it was fantastic regardless, and left them both tired when they finally got home and crawled into bed.

“Quiet without Roger and John here,” Freddie yawned as he laid back and snuggled against Brian. 

“We’ll have them over for another sleepover,” Brian said. “Now that I’m awake to be around for it!” 

Freddie smiled, but it fell a moment later. “Look. If you’d rather not talk about how it was for you, this curse...thing. I get it. But-” 

“You’re curious?” 

Freddie nodded. 

“I don’t mind talking about some of it,” Brian said. “I mean...some of it was amazing. It was like I was traveling outside of my body, and I could see so much. Different planets, different dimensions, different universes. No one acknowledged me ever; I don’t know if it meant I was some sort of ghost? God were some of those things weird too...I hate that I couldn’t bring pictures back of it all somehow, the things I could show people in the scientific community; they’d think I had faked it all, that’s how wild it was!” 

Freddie smiled again. “Sounds not so bad. I was worried about that. Where you were while you slept, where the creature had sent you in your mind, or whatever.” 

Brian bit his lip. “I did see other things. Timelines that might come to pass. Horrible things that might happen to us, and others. Terrifying looking creatures that just...roam. Wherever they please in our universe and others. And we’ll never know if they’re watching us or not.” 

Brian shivered, and pulled Freddie tight to his side. “That I didn’t like. That, and knowing that if you’d all failed by midnight, I wasn’t coming back.” 

The color drained from Freddie’s face. “What? The instructions said we had a week.” 

“No,” Brian shook his head. “I don’t know if that thing lied, or misremembered how much time it had given you, but you only had until midnight. Trust me, I...I knew. Closer it got the harder it felt to stay near my body, to get back to it-” 

Freddie didn’t realize how tightly he was holding onto Brian until Brian winced and chuckled. 

“It’s alright. You made it in time, and I’m here. Not going anywhere.” 

Freddie nodded. “I know that. I do. All the same, I can’t believe how close we let it get. You know if we had known, we would have rushed, we would have-” 

Brian gave him a gentle kiss. “I know. It’s okay, really.” 

“We’ll never talk of it again,” Freddie said, and pressed his face against Brian’s chest. “You’re here, and safe, and that’s what matters.” 

“Exactly,” Brian said, holding Freddie close with one arm while the other reached to the end table to turn on the bedside lamp. A childish and arguably useless protection against the things they now knew roamed the universe, but a necessary one all the same if they were to sleep at all. 

Invisible to them, outside their bedroom window, the creature glowered at them before floating off into the night. 

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

Multiverse is a Curse Word (4)

Dodoodoodoodo seeing how much of this I can post before Christmas …

@the-subpar-ghost your Adrift AU is amazing and I’ve wanted to make content for it for ages.

@hntrgurl13 I am in love with Addi, as you know, but thanks again for creating her, the Dimension Jumper AU, and the Drifting Dimensions AU. I can’t stay away from them!

@scipunk63 I swear I’m not just tantalising you with the promise of your Addiford ship appearing.

My buddies. My dudes. @thejesterlyfictionista and @deadpool-demon-diva. Tell me what you think.

AO3  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11

Chapter 4: Broken Heart or Broken Bones - Your Choice

“Doctor Pines, a word if you please,” Wesley called.

Ford rose from the couch they were cooking breakfast on and went over to the resistance leader.

“I thought it would be a good idea to let you know that we are planning to undertake a strike mission against Wikert Expansion Enterprises tonight, in case you wonder about all the extra weapons around,”

“Actually, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have noticed. Mabel and I were planning to leave today,” informed Ford.

Wesley appeared surprised. “Really? When you have not even paid back your debt?”

Ford went cold. “Debt?”

“Why, we saved you, and your child, from certain death. We cured you, vaccinated you, even performed a blood transfusion, and you do not think you owe us anything?” Wesley asked innocently.

Ford stood silently for a moment, thinking through his options. This was undoubtedly a ploy to rope him further into the organisation. He had no problem harshly replying that no, he did not think he owed them anything, because when a child is in trouble you damn well help them, however he did not think Wesley would take a simple rejection for an answer. Fighting his way out would be tantamount to suicide in the middle of all these people, so that left one remaining option.

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Come with us.” Said Wesley immediately. “I’m going to need the best two hackers I have, and you are number one.”

The lab yesterday was a test, Ford realised. “Where are we going?”

“A research facility. Military owned, military operated. Fortunately, most of their personnel has been called away to address an issue I organised, leaving it up for the taking. We need your help to break into the data centre and steal one specific file: WEE.rc736,”

Ford took a deep breath, and paraphrased. “You want me to participate in an incursion to a military institution owned by an evil, interdimensional capitalist corporation, trusting people I don’t know or like to watch my back, all the while most likely initiating a warzone over a digital file called urine.”

“Not sure if you can handle it?” asked Wesley pleasantly.

Ford seethed. “You expect me to bring a twelve-year-old into all this?”

“Oh no, by all means, she is welcome to stay here until our return,”

“If we return,” said Ford through clenched teeth.

“Are you going to repay your debt or not?” Wesley’s tone had not changed from that of an agreeable conversation the entire time.

I’ll just ask Addi to look after her, Ford reasoned.

⃝

An alarm rang through the complex and continued sounding as everyone began to move towards the hangar.

Ford had been trapped in a conference room with Wesley all day, going over and memorising a plan weeks in the making which the other eighty participants were already up to date on. He had not had a chance to speak to Adeline and Mabel.

The hangar was on the ground floor towards the back of the base, one wall completely missing to act as the exit. There were four shuttles inside, all of which would be used in the assault. As Ford made his way there he did not see either Adeline or Mabel, and he could feel the stress mounting. It was bad enough that he had to do this, and he should at least get a chance to say goodbye to his niece. He was striding over to Wesley’s ship with the intention of demanding he transmit a message to Adeline, when he heard her call out behind him.

“There you are. Here’s your niece, see you when we get back.” She clapped him on the shoulder as she passed.

“You’re coming?”

“Well yeah, I’ve got a database to help hack.” She frowned. “You’re not coming, are you?”

I’m going to need the two best hackers I have …

“You’re the second hacker,” he realised.

“Second?” Adeline’s expression was changing as she started to grasp what was going on.

Well who did you expect? Thought Ford furiously. Of course it’s her, you just refused to think about it, blocking it out because it interfered with your plans, because you needed her here, looking after –

“What’s going on?” asked Mabel with a nervous smile. “Are we going on the mission too, Grunkle Ford?”

The very thought filled him with fear, and sent him small flashbacks to other resistance efforts, other missions, other battlefields, other soldiers who were little more than teenagers, dead on the orders of some faceless leader, explosions that rocked entire worlds, weapons firing every colour of the rainbow, dark dungeons and prison cells that were the price of failure, and everyone ceaselessly believing in a non-existent hope that things would get better when how could they? The equilibrium of the multiverse was too stable to change in his favour. It was a buffer system of bad things.

Ford’s heart started to beat faster as he frantically thought of solutions.

“No.” He said distantly. “Just me. Adeline and I are both needed to steal a file for this resistance cell.” He watched Mabel’s smile fade as her eyes flicked between the two adults.

“Wesley needs the best people available for this. He’s collecting on the debt we owe him for saving us,” he had no idea why he was continuing to explain. It was obvious she had already put two and two together and come up with a less than satisfactory answer.

“You need to stay here,” The acknowledgement of this reality shattered the unnatural calm which had befallen both of them.

“What? No, Grunkle Ford, I have to come with you.” She shook her head and used both hands to grab onto his sleeves, correcting him as though it was a simple mathematical error he had made.

“It’s too dangerous. I’m sorry Mabel, not this time,”

“No. No, you can’t leave me here.” She insisted, tightening her grip.

“I can’t take you with me, Mabel. I’m not joking around, you need to stay here,”

Why isn’t she listening? Thought Ford as he numbly tried to twist out of her hold. Can’t she see this is serious? She could get hurt, she could die.

The hangar seemed to be getting colder by the second.

She cannot come. I draw the line here.

Regardless, Mabel was refusing to let go of him, and he could not bring himself to use more force than he already was. A quick glance behind him showed that Adeline’s face was going pale and Wesley was calmly continuing to direct weaponry and supplies onto the aircraft.

Ford was suddenly angry. Angry at Wesley for forcing him into this position. Angry at Adeline for involving him in yet another resistance. He was angry at Mabel for not listening to him, angry at Stan for pushing him into the bloody portal and then getting his niece thrown in too. He was angry at Bill fucking Cipher for ever approaching him with designs for the portal, at Fiddleford for not trying harder to convince him of Bill’s treachery, at himself for not listening to Fiddleford. At himself because he had no idea how to take care of children, or how to keep them safe, and angry at Stan again because he did. He was angry that his anger changed nothing.

“Mabel, it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay here, I’ll come back-” But how do you know that –

“No!” Mabel’s shout was violent enough to cause him to stop dead. “No, it’s not okay, it’s not safe here! You were awake last night too, I know you were, you heard what was going on!” Tears were filling Mabel’s eyes now, whether from anger or fear he did not know. Most likely both …

His mouth going dry and his pulse was thundering in his ears. Yes, he had been awake last night, he had heard Adeline’s sword sing and the muttered threats she had given their visitors. Another thing he had refused to think about in his efforts to convince himself that Mabel would be safe when he left her, because the truth was he did not know what he would come back to if she stayed. It was no use trying to say that most of the resisters were coming on the mission, that she could hide, that whatever happened would surely be better than being captured, tortured and killed – but that could happen here too. The very thought of the results of either decision made him sick.

He turned to Wesley. “Please, is there any other way to pay you back? Anything?”

“I am sorry Doctor Pines, this is the only thing you can do for me. I need your skills now, on this specific job,” he said unsympathetically.

“Wesley, come on!” Adeline said, shocked. “She’s a kid! You can’t let her stay here alone.”

“I never said she had to stay. That decision was all courtesy of Doctor Pines,” Wesley said flatly.

“Wes, I can’t believe this! Let’s just go back to the original plan, Kot and I can handle it. Hell, I’ll do it by myself if you want a medic!”

“Alternatively, what if Wikert has safeguards that we do not know about? What if you hit a block similar to the one on the lab? No, Doctor Pines is coming with us, no matter what. Make a decision Stanford: choose to break her heart or break her bones, but do it quickly,”

The last of the ammunition was loaded onto the vehicle. Wesley started ordering the personnel into shuttles. The hangar began to hum as engines ignited.

Break her heart or break her bones. Which choice leads to which exactly? He stared into the girl’s own glassy eyes like he would find the answer there.

“Mabel, sweetheart, please …” Please don’t make me choose, please understand, please do something to make this easier …

“No.” Her voice shook but she held his gaze steadily, and continued to clutch at his sleeves like a lifeline. They might have been.

“We do not have unlimited time, Stanford Pines,”

“I know, I can hear the fucking sirens!” Ford snapped. Of course this would happen, of course, why wouldn’t it, of course ofcourseofcourse-

Hardening his heart, he turned back to his niece hating himself. She was going to stay here, she was going to be fine, he was going to get the damn file, he would come back, and he would figure out how to make this up to her. She would deal with it, and so would he. The tightness in his chest meant nothing.

He braced himself to pull away and said, “Trust me.”

“NO!” It was the seventh time she had said it, and the most shocking. The word ripped convulsively out of her, and the tears started to break from their dam.

“I mean – I mean, yeah, I do …” She struggled to find the right words. “But, the last time I said that,” she was looking at him, desperate to have him understand whatever was going through her mind, trying to convey a message that was almost too painful to speak aloud.

“I let go of the only thing holding me to the ground and I fell into the portal. And I’m sorry, but I really, really wish I hadn’t, I’m so sorry.”

That was the sentence that broke both of them. Ford sank to his knees and hugged her tightly as Mabel collapsed onto his shoulder, sobbing. There was no way he could leave her after that.

⃝

After a few seconds Mabel was able to regain control of herself. She peeled herself off her uncle and Addi came over to take her hand. She looked scared.

“Come on kiddo, let’s get you into the ship,” She sounded as confident as ever.

“I’ll be right there,” Mabel heard Ford say quietly. Emotionally drained, she was too sapped to feel embarrassed, or scared, or anything other than relieved. She wasn’t going to be left behind. She wasn’t going to lose her family again.

Mabel nodded, and Addi briefly squeezed her uncle’s hand before strapping her into a seat and sitting next to her.

From out in the hangar came a loud “Shit!”, which caused Mabel to wince, followed by the sound of a boot slamming into the aircraft’s side. Footsteps thudded over to where Wesley waited.

“If anything happens to her …”

“Nothing will,”

“For your sake you should hope so,”

Addi’s knuckles had gone white.

Then Ford climbed into the craft and sat on Mabel’s other side, pinching the bridge of his nose. A moment later the doors slid shut, the alarms ceased, and the shuttles lifted up into the air.

No going back now, Mabel thought.