#this had to be preserved and i didnt see anyone else mention it so far asjdakjsdakjsda | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scatterpatter · 4 years ago

Note

15 w Corren!

15: What is your characters background story?

OHOHO, so I’m going to leave One Detail Out because there’s one part of his backstory I don’t wanna spoil for Jazz yet, but... >:3c

Also it’s under the cut because i totally infodumped and then some OOPSIE

oh also cws: serious illness, death, domestic violence, depression

Corren Hartwell grew up the youngest of 3 siblings, the oldest being his big sis Mila and the middle child being his bro Julian. Their parents were pretty detached emotionally, but that’s pretty par for the course where he was from, and they provided for the kids so it really wasn’t all that bad. Not a perfect family, no fam ever is, but they were happy.

His race’s culture is super inclined to intelligence and studying technology, the mind, etc, so Corren spent his childhood being a total bookworm. Studying history, arcana, all sorts of stuff... he never really minded it, though. He was actually quite good at what he did!

Mila was a spellcaster- I honestly forgot what school of magic she was in OOPS, and Julian dual-classed as a Necromancer and Bard! Jules and Mila were both pretty close in age, and they were like besties on top of being siblings, and they’d often team up to do small adventuring jobs: hit up the help wanted board in town and take care of short deliveries or a monster stalking a farm or something like that- both for the thrill and to also earn some extra gold for the family. They loved Corren, but they couldn’t take him with them because it was too dangerous for him since he was still just a little kid. Still, Corren admired them and wanted to be just like them(better, even?) when he grew up! ... Oh yeah I always forget this detail but Corren’s totally trans XD He came out pretty young but his family was chill with it so like... ayyyeee

Though one day, Mila started getting sick. Corren doesn’t really know what it was, but for whatever reason she wasn’t able to heal from it with simple healing spells. It was a slow process, but she was just getting worse instead of better, and one day she passed. The family was a wreck, understandably. The issue is... Corren and Julian had... different ways of grieving. Corr was still young, the equivalent of like someone 10-12 in human years, so he didn’t fully grasp the concept of death just yet. He retreated into himself a lot, had trouble grounding himself to the present and really struggling with depression. Julian, about the equivalent of someone 16-18, had a better understanding of what was going on, but he was wrecked. He wanted their sister back, and was so upset he couldnt do anything... but he wanted to try. He ended up doing something rash, and... well, spoilers ;) (dont worry he didnt hurt Corren or anyone else, but... he Fucked Up in what he tried doing)

Things quickly went downhill from there for the Hartwells. There was often a lot of fighting between Julian and their parents, or Corren would be chided for being unable to focus, like, at all, and... Corren and Jules never really fought, but there was a clear rift between them after what happened. They still loved each other, but it was so obvious their relationship would never be like what it was when Mila was still around, and that hurt both of them so much.

A few months later, things reached a boiling point and Julian was kicked out of their home. Before he left, though, he found Corren and gave him something: a small amethyst pendant on a necklace chain, something Julian used to always wear. They made a promise that this wasn’t gonna be goodbye, that they’d find each other again, and then Jules was gone. It was just Corren and his mom and dad.

Things were still strained, and Corren just did his best to keep to his studies to distract himself from everything. Not wanting Corren to end up like his brother, his parents forbade anything necrotic in the magic he learned. The problem was... Corren still loved Julian. And still wanted to be like him, to a point, so... he would study necromancy in secret. It was kinda like his little lifeline like “hey Jules is still here to an extent if I know the spells he does”, and things seemed to be going okay, for the most part

Well uh... one day his father caught him practicing his necromancy and... well, was far from happy about it. An argument quickly erupted between them both, a lot of yelling back and forth, and before Corr could react properly, his father grabbed something from the desk and struck him with it, giving him a pretty bad cut across his right eye(the smol scar I always draw? Yeah...). In a panic, Corren’s flight of fight kicked in as he cast a magic missile at his father in retaliation. Corren isn’t sure if his attack just stunned, knocked out, or killed his father, but the flight of fight-or-flight kicked in as he just ran from the situation. He had no idea what he was to do or where to go, but he just knew he couldn’t go back home after that.

SO this poor kid, probably the equivalent of a 14-15 y/o, is out on his own now... and he sure does his best. He mainly spends his time hopping from town to town, taking up small jobs to get some gold in his pockets, and is just... focusing on surviving. Going from this sheltered lifestyle to suddenly on the streets was a wake-up call and then some, but he found ways to make it work. Luckily his background of studying all the time gave him enough intelligence to take up tasks others weren’t as capable of, but it was still... far from easy. But he made it work!

One day he’s in a city known as Lilenthemar, just taking a break in one of the town squares, when an Elven man takes a seat on the bench next to him. They both sit in a comfortable silence for a while... but the elf then strikes a conversation. Corren, socially awkward like no tomorrow, tries to keep up the conversation... key word tries. The man introduces himself as Jethro, and I imagine the conversation took a turn like this:

Jethro: I don’t see many Marelienths around here, are you new in town?

Corren: Yeah, just passing through I guess. ... Gotta say, wasn’t expecting to see the Dragon Saint of the Green as I came here, though.

Jethro, laughing: Ah, yes, Raerose. Don’t worry, he’s a kind dragon. Though, it’s certainly surprising to those who are new to the city.

Corren: Oh, no, I know all about Raerose and his connections to this city and the Edgewoods. I just wasn’t expecting to... you know, run into his path as quickly as I did.

Jethro: Oh, so you’ve done your research, I take it?

At that point, Corren does what any neurodivergent would do when asked about his hobbies: Infodumps the hell out of what he knows. He’s far from a great scholar, considering he’s only the equivalent of someone 16-21ish at this point and spent quite a few years away from studying in favor of surviving, but he was still very intelligent and knowledgable about what he talked about. Jethro, picking up on this, decided to offer Corren a temporary position as a Family Historian. Jethro was actually a noble, something Corr somehow didn’t pick up on, and not only could’ve used the help... but also, he kiiiinda picked up on the fact that Corren looked like a kid who could use a place to stay for a while. Corren, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, immediately accepted the offer.

Now, Corren wasn’t intending to stay for long. A few months, maybe a year or two... but. He realized he was building a pretty stable life by having a consistent job for the elf- it didn’t make much sense to just leave that in favor of hopping from place to place with no purpose. Not to mention, he was actually growing quite close to his boss. They’d often spent time together during off-hours, sitting in a comfortable quiet, just taking comfort in each other’s presence. Jethro’s actually the only one Corren ever opened up to about his past, and over the years Corren really grew to love him in a strong platonic way. They both struggled with their own grieving, Jethro with his passed wife and son he hadn’t seen in years, and Corren with his passed sister and brother he hadn’t seen in years, which only helped them grow closer, since they understood each other’s pain, in a sense.

He still struggled with depression, but overall Corren was doing pretty damn well in life. ... Many years later, Corren being 44(idk which human-equivalent this would be. Mid-Late 20s? Early 30s?), actually gets to meet Jethro’s son, Jericho, and the party he traveled with... called the F.U.C.K.s. ... I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried. They needed help getting to a place called the Menoa Tree, which Corren happened to have studied for a long while, so he offered to help the party. ... They totally broke him with their antics. He proceeded to have a mental breakdown in front of them, and essentially went “FUCK THIS IM GOING HOME AND TAKING A NAP”. Jethro got a laugh out of the furious rambling Corren came home with.

... But despite that, something stuck with him. He just couldn’t quite get the party out of his mind. Something about them, as frustrating as they were, was almost... magnetic? ... Well, weeks later, word came to Lilenthemar about a war that had been raging on for years now... but specifically of a battle at a city known as Joshua, the forces being lead by Jericho alongside many others. Jethro was of course worried about his boy... and Corren... well, something in him changed. He wanted to know more about the FUCKs and just WHAT their deal was, and he wanted to ease Jethro’s worries, so... he grabbed a sniper rifle and decided that he’d go help protect Jericho and his friends as they fought.

He eventually caught up to the party, convinced them to let him help, and after many battles... the war was won(Corren kinda came in at the tail-end of it all). The only thing is... after that, Corren didn’t really want to go home just yet. He actually enjoyed spending time with the party... and then it clicked: They were powerful adventurers who were totally crazy, stupid, and had no sense of self-preservation... they were just like Julian. And Corren loved it, even when they drove him crazy. He felt alive, which is something he realized he hadn’t felt in a long time... and quickly grew attached to his party, Alistair now taking the reigns as leader as Jericho retired from adventuring. And, well, he’s stuck with them ever since!

He still has Julian’s amethyst, as they’ve yet to reunite(yknow, assuming Jules is still alive even), but... certain events are causing some concern with the story I’m telling. Mainly... Corren is slowly facing Aboleth Corruption(he doesn’t know this yet, but is starting to suspect there’s something wrong with him), and that’s causing parts of his memory to be... patchy. Certain things aren’t lining up, and there could be more(or just different altogether) pieces of this story than what I’ve just told... but we’ll have to wait and see until we get to the quest that deals with that before we find out what’s REALLY going on ;)

... HEY UM I HOPE YALL DONT MIND THE IMMENSE INFODUMP IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR THEN THANK U FOR CARING ABT MY BOI ;-;

#corren #OHHHH DONT MIND THE BRICK WALLS OF TEXT #YKNOW THIS WAS FUN ACTUALLY #I TYPED UP A BACKSTORY BEFORE BUT LIKE #SINCE ITS BEEN A FEW MONTHS SINCE THEN IT FELT NICE TO LIKE #JUST GO OVER CERTAIN PARTS OF IT AGAIN AND GIVE IT KINDA A FRESH RE-TELLING #dnd ask meme #ironically corren is the only one that has THIS much backstory of all my charas HVSFHBDS #phonepastry

1 note · View note

mothmansfriend · 5 years ago

Text

when i’m sad oh god i’m sad pt. 1

link to pt. 2

follows a very similar timeline to @tearxofink‘s fic Rules for a Functioning Alcoholic but will prob have differences (such as no established relationships) and takes place in @illogicallyinclined‘s hockey au after the mention of Remus possibly having undiagnosed bipolar disorder

update: i think its important to acknowledge roughly where this takes place in the big timeline bc D doesn’t really drink past freshman yr in this AU because of self preservation and trauma, alcoholism was more an issue before then in high school (when remus and d were Rowdy Boys) but the stress of Logan’s concussion lead to some heavy drinking that was caught quickly by Virgil because Remus Cannot Keep Secrets.

summary: Remus has undiagnosed Bipolar Disorder and is dealing with a severe depressive episode in the aftermath of realizing that binge drinking with D wasn’t just his own search to Feel Something, but was also D’s relapse into alcoholism. Remus comes to the realization of lost time during manic episodes and refuses help.

tw: graphic descriptions of a depressive episode, self harm (burning), suicidal thoughts, and suicidal intent (but not attempt). unhealthy coping mechanisms, alcohol abuse, mentioned alcoholism, undiagnosed mental illness, miscommunications on shared trauma, ask to tag if i missed any.

Remus doesn’t think he’s ever felt happy in his life.

But that can’t be true. He’s sure it wasn't even two months ago he swore he’d never felt sad before in his life and he knows that one wasn’t true either.

Though, right now the younger Prince twin couldn’t even be certain he feels sad right now. He can identify some feelings, like dizziness (he stumbles through the lobby doors, it’s too bright out its giving him a headache that better not be a hangover), guilt (“Do you even think about anyone but yourself?” No, Virgil, you know Remus better than that. “You know how hard getting sober was the first time, D suddenly taking you out to the bar during the week didn’t raise any flags?” It didn’t, Remus is too self absorbed), and most importantly something he can’t quite label that came in through his lungs smoother than the cheap cigarettes he hates (but uses as an excuse to turn himself into a human ashtray) and settled deep inside him just under a month ago (weeks before D suggested goiung to the club on w Tuesday evening for the first time in almost a year) and it's getting heavier and heavier every day. Possibly, relief was felt when he was greeted by a totally empty apartment instead of a holier-than-thou brother trying to enforce ‘responsibility’ and his first real friend whom he recently enabled in a relapse.

The normally obnoxious and loud man silently rides the elevator to their floor, tripping over his own feet as he exits not even offering a head bop to the cheesy elevator music. He enters the apartment and slams the door harder than necessary but can’t bring himself to feel bad. There's no elegance or emotion to closing his door, landing on his bed full clothed after barely kicking off his shoes and grabbing the controller to turn on Netflix and select the first Saw movie.

It’s halfway through the second movie when he hears someone return home and make what is probably lunch before leaving again. He takes a moment to wonder if his professors or classmates notice his absence or if they’re just thankful for it. He’s sober and he feels the burns on his ankles and arms throb in time with his black eye. God he wishes he wasn’t, but pissed off his last more-than-a-little-sketchy friend and he doesn’t have the energy to find the stash he knows D hid in the apartment somewhere.

Just as Saw II ends and the third begins, he opens his window and lights up a cigarette with a lighter he knows he stole from someone. The smoke coats his throat and the terrible burning taste of nicotine sticks to the roof of his mouth, the headrush barely makes it worth it. Remus considers maybe he needs something stronger, Virgil seems like the type to secretly smoke weed. Wandering minds think about the movie he just watched and the classic needle pit, he certainly isn’t afraid of needles. He slams his head into the glass of his window and takes another drag. The reality of that thought would be a bigger issue than many things he’s done, it’s not often that he rejects things his brain throws at him. He stares out the window and a group of students pass and he sees the exact moment they smell his shitty cigarettes as they look around and glare when they see him. He realizes how often people look at him like that and it feels like the first time that it bothers him. He puts the cigarette out in his lower calf and holds it there until the darkened skin and burning pain is all he can think about

The fifth movie ends marking around 10 hours of blankly staring at the screen. He’s only wearing boxers and the ratty t-shirt he’s been wearing for days. Both roommates are home. The group chat is going off Remus briefly saw a few messages, a reminder about practice Thursday morning, Patton looking for baking suggestions, Virgil asked if anyone heard from Remus because they didn’t finish their discussion.

Remus mutes the chat for the first time and when his phone falls off the bed, doesn't bother reaching for it.

The eighth movie ends. It’s been darkout for awhile, though he isn’t sure quite how long. Remus really feels as if his body has melted and merged with the bed. He hopes he’s dying. He eats stale chips he had hidden in his nightstand and can’t even get out of bed to smoke half a cigarette and put it out on his exposed thigh.

He falls asleep after silencing his brain as best as he can right now.

The next time he wakes up the sun is either setting or rising. He doesn’t really care. The hockey player doesn’t really know if he's stayed still this long, almost ever. If he thinks about it though he is pretty sure he did this last spring. He’s also pretty sure no one noticed last time either. Sleeping seemed to have helped a little and he figured he could probably make a trip to the bathroom and maybe the kitchen if he’s lucky, he noticed that pizza box under his bed is smelling pretty terrible. It’s been four days since he was home spoke to anyone, and no one has checked in on him. He hasn’t left his room since his return, the gatorade bottle of piss is evidence of such. And miraculously, he actually manages to throw out the pizza, steal a ziplock bag full of Roman’s cereal, and use the bathroom. While washing his hands he stares at the shower and decides it’s waited four days, it can wait one more. Just before heading back to his room, Remus swipes the mickey of vodka he saw behind the flour.

He watched the sun rise through his half open blinds and doesn’t remember the last time he saw the sun rise. Remus had yet to touch the vodka, mostly because it hit the floor hours ago and he’s pretty sure he can deal for a few more hours. Today marks day five in a world without Remus Prince opening his fucking mouth to say some dumb shit that probably hurt someone and he didnt even notice. Remus can’t bring himself to care. He can’t stop thinking about how no one has asked about him since. He read the groupchat, Remus knows he’s a nosey bitch, no one has asked about him since a halfhearted response from Roman implying he hadn’t been gone long enough to worry. This sparks a kind of exhausted anger and Remus feels no amount of guilt for stealing his brothers vodka. The smoke weighing him down from inside lulls him back into the bone deep fatigue with no release.

It’s night again, likely early in the morning. Remus’s head is a deep echoing cave of different ways he could die if he just got out of bed. He’s been thinking about the hunting knife he swiped at someone’s house party months ago, for a few hours maybe. He’s had many thoughts like this before, about how fragile human skin is, about how fun it could be to slice open, how warm his own blood would be as it flowed out and he could reach in and feel his final breath.

God, does he want that. His hand reaches out and grabs his chest pulling on any skin he can grip onto as tight as he could. He’s never been good at anything, he knows he has never been a good person, he can’t stop circling around what Roman could possibly mean that Remus hasn’t been gone for long enough to worry when he’s so sure he’s never been gone more than three days. His phone though, if he goes back far enough in his phone, he thinks Roman is right. Google Maps places him in places he doesn’t recognize in cities he’s never been to. His chest seizing up in a way he’s only seen on others.

He’s always been able to hold onto even if his parents didn’t love him, even if no one ever liked him or missed him, that Remus Prince was never fake, he never played nice, he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t he never hid his feelings about anything. If anyone asked him, he’d tell them and it’s their fault if it hurt their feelings. But, how can that be true now? Who is he on these days he doesn’t remember.

Forgetting where he was or getting distracted midway through a task or conversation were always normal for him, the ADHD if he had to guess; but the realization it wasn’t minutes or even hours that he forgot upsets him in a way he didn’t think he could recognize. Remus thinks that this might be the closest he would ever get to understanding how so many people fear him. and he does not like it at all.

The knife is so close. He lights a cigarette. No one else is awake yet. No one has realized he’s even at home. How long would it take to find him? Days? Weeks? How long is he usually gone? Would the smell be what finally pulled someone into to check on him? He puts the cigarette out on his leg. He knows the knife is in the bottom drawer of his desk under old notebooks and packs of pens dumped loosely inside. It’s less than five feet away. He wants it.

He sits up, swings his legs numbly off the side of the bed and stands up. It feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. In a mere three steps forward he sits down on the ground behind his desk chair to wretch open the drawer and sees just how messy it is. His phone goes off and he pulls it by the wire to check, a reminder for practice at 6am. He shoots Coach an apology text for missing practice for the first time in his hockey career and throws his phone back towards the bed. His body feels so heavy as he shoves a hand roughly into the drawer to search for the knife, frustration when he can’t immediately find it leads to him slamming his head into the wooden desk leg before letting it fall onto the chair cushion as his hand wiggles around for a few moments, each second filling him with aimless anger. The drawer slams shut and he flops onto the floor.

He can’t even find the energy to kill himself. Pathetic. He glares at the desk from his place on the cool floor until the fatigue brings him back to sleep.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #bipolar disorder #self harm #suicidal thoughts #angst #hockey au #university au #link to the other fic is fixed #notes on timeline added

49 notes · View notes

the-marvel-imagines-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Madness | Chpt. 3

Requests are Open

Chapter Title: “Little Wolf”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,257

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of character death, survivors guilt.

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

A/N: Once again, ya’ll are amazing. Thank you so much for reading. If there’s something you like or don’t like, let me know. I always look forward to compliments or constructive criticism <3

Tagged: @teddyboobear (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

Our hands brushed against each other’s as we laid in the cool grass that had been shielded from much of the sunlight during the day thanks to the trees that stood almost as tall as the pillars in the throne room. The blades of grass seemingly sang to us as they brushed against each other with as much delicacy as my hand against his. As I craned my neck to the side, ignoring the stars in the night sky for a moment, I gazed into the eyes of the brightest star of them all. Loki. I didn’t know how long he had been staring at me, but it had been long enough for my face to flush with color. His lips pulled up into a cheeky grin, and I was reminded of a time when we were children. It was seldom that we didn’t watch the stars with each other at night.

When we were children, we both watched the stars together. As we grew up, we found ourselves watching each other more often than not. I loved watching him as he gazed up at the stars, amazement overcoming his features. To those who didn’t know him the way I did, Loki was cold and logical. I saw a different man. He was poetic and sensitive. He was beautiful and warm. In that moment, he looked at me the same way he used to look at the stars, with a burning question in his eyes that said, “how was something so perfect created from nothing at all?” And that was why I became bashful.

For a moment, we laid in complete silence just staring at each other. What started as a night of appreciating the beauty that nature had to offer was quickly turning into something so much more than that. When he noticed the glint of reluctance in my eyes, he silenced every doubt with a look of mischief and thrill as he intertwined our fingers. At the time, I was sure it was to cause me some sort of discomfort or to fuel the fire of embarrassment. However, it was because he wanted to feel me the same way I wanted to feel him. As those slender fingers intertwined with mine, I felt myself pushing my body closer to his, leaving almost no space between the God of Mischief and myself.

A piece of me tried to pass off the gesture as something much more innocent than what my own mind was trying to conjure up, but an even larger piece of me knew that this was the start of something I didn’t know if I was ready for. I didn’t know if I wanted to risk the relationship I had with my best friend for something that felt so trivial at the time. However, I could no longer fight off feelings that had been present since the very beginning. We had already pushed the boundaries too far on nights we were feeling unstoppable, and they were some of the best nights of my life. As he held my hand in his own, I tested the waters by giving it a gentle squeeze, seeing that the effect was a playful grin from him. The mischief melted away from his eyes, and he radiated the warmth and compassion I knew him for.

He rolled over onto his side, and I followed him, completely in sync with his motions. Our hands stayed connected and continued to rest in the grass. His other hand reached up to brush the stray strands of hair from my face as he gently caressed my cheek with every motion. His touch was featherlight and filled with tenderness and love. I leaned into his touch and reached up to rest my free hand against his cheek. My fingers danced along the soft skin beneath the tips of my fingers. I took note of his sharp jawline, his chiseled cheekbones, and every dip and angle in his perfect face. Each feature was burned into my memory from the countless years admiring him and touching him. There was only a single patch of his skin that my fingers hadn’t already travelled, and I was certain that the day would someday come for that as well.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he finally spoke, a voice that felt like velvet as the warmth of his breath cascaded across my face. He drew even closer to me as his eyes flickered over my face to see that my cheeks burned with diffidence. He knew what his words did to me, but he couldn’t help himself. I could feel that he was speaking his truth when words of praise spilled from his lips for me. I knew that he told me no lies, but I still felt like I was undeserving of his admiration. To me, no one would ever be deserving of something so pure from him, for he was the closest to perfect one could get. I wanted to keep him pure and unscathed, which was why I protected him. Maybe that was why he also protected me.

The sides of my lips tugged up into a shy smile, “you cannot admire the stars if your eyes are on me.”

He chuckled, “you act as if you don’t already know,” he spoke, pressing his forehead against my own. It was something he did often when we were alone. The closeness allowed me to breathe in the scent of him. He smelled of the breeze when it rolled through the forest, carrying the smell of nature with it. He smelled like life, which had no particular scent but freshness. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and smile as I felt our energies bleeding into one another. I nuzzled my face even closer to his, our noses grazing against each others. Sensing that there was still space left, he tilted his head ever so slightly to bring our faces impossibly closer.

When I realized what we were doing, I spoke, “what of the stars, Loki?” I asked, reminding him that his attention should not be wasted on me. Still, I didn’t move from my position, feeling alive once more as he held me.

I could feel the smirk on his lips before he spoke, “I care not of the stars when I look at you for you are brighter and far more beautiful than they could ever hope to be,” he said, causing my heart to swell with joy. His voice lowered as his lips brushed against mine, sending a current through my body, “besides, I have no great love for the stars, not like the love I have for you,” he murmured before pressing his lips to mine, allowing me no time to respond; however, as soon as his lips met mine, I didn’t care about anything else but him. His kiss was gentle, like the water lapping at your feet or the breeze in your hair on a warm night. It had not been the first time he kissed me. We began our love affair-if one could call it that-when we were still young. It was when we were no longer in our childhood, but we weren't quite adults yet. We were in the strange process of discovering our place in the world, and in the meantime, we discovered each other. I always figured that Loki just needed time to realize that he could have someone far greater than me, someone with a name and something more to give.

As our lips danced with each others-slow and steady, like our relationship-I heard him. I heard the thudding of his heart and realized that he was nervous about initiating the kiss, like he always was. I heard a gentle groan that was born deep within his chest. I heard the fluttering of his eyelashes, like the wings of a butterfly, and I realized that he couldn't keep his eyes closed. Instead, he opened them every so often and checked to make sure that he was not just imagining this. I only heard him. I only felt him. It was just the two of us in our own beautiful moment, and I realized that I was waiting for something that would not happen. I was waiting for Loki to figure out that he didn't want me, that he could do so much better, but I knew that the moment he left me, the moment he forsook me, would never come. I didn't know what I did to deserve a love so beautiful and so sweet, but I had him, and I was going to enjoy what time we had together because I loved him.

With the sudden realization that my feelings were reciprocated, my heart swelled with joy, and a lump rose in my throat. I pulled away from the soft and sweet kisses and opened my eyes, allowing the tears to form without feeling embarrassed about them. For so long, I was sure that the only love I would know was the love I had to give, but I never thought I could know a love so strong and so pure that was all for me. As those blue eyes fluttered open, they met mine with fear that he had done something wrong or that he had hurt me in some way. When he saw the tears in my eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, “oh, Eva, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to. What happened?” he asked, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong.

I could only smile in response to his distress, laughing at how quick he was to assume that he had done something wrong. Even though it hurt to know that he thought of himself as a monster who could only bring suffering and pain into the lives of others, I couldn’t help but feel special in that he wanted to preserve me. Finally, words found me once more, and I said the words to him that he had said to me for years. I gazed into his eyes as the universe fell into place, “I love you, Loki. I have always loved you,” I professed in a voice low enough that not even the trees could hear. I wanted to shout my love for him from the highest mountain, but I wanted the beginning of-what would be-our whirlwind love story to be sacred between just us.

He was left speechless for a moment, but his disbelief faded slightly as tears of joy filled his eyes, “I love you, Eva.”

I smiled up at him, “I love you more,” I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to his lips.

It was the first time I told Loki I loved him, and it was the first time I saw him cry. It was the beginning of the centuries we would spend together before the fall.

*End of Flashback*

Heimdall’s deep voice brought me back to the present, “you think not of Hjalmar but of Loki. His darkness plagues you still,” he said, orange eyes staring out into the vast universe. He always seemed to be contemplating something, but at the same time, he was without all judgement. His dark skin glowed brighter than the golden armor upon him. He had the beauty of every warrior before him, but what made him more beautiful than so many was the way he viewed life. He believed that life was to be preserved no matter what, and it was our shared belief that drew us closer together. Just as I was about to argue with him, he spoke again, “you have visited me more times than anyone in Asgard. You have spoken my name more than the Allfather himself. You have spent more time looking out across the vast Universe with me than Thor, himself, a man whose love for the stars has always been insatiable. You have entrusted me more of your deepest and most personal secrets than the queen, a goddess who often stared across the universe with me while filling my ear with details of her life that almost no one else knew. All this, yet you do not think I can see right through you,” he remarked, stoically and without so much as a glance.

My eyes lowered as I processed his words. It was true. Heimdall had been one of the few people who could read me like an open book. He knew my every thought and feeling before it even occurred. It was worthless to attempt to hide anything from him, especially the truth, “I miss Hjalmar, but...I cannot bring him back to me no matter what I do. I cannot right the wrongs that led to his death. I do still feel like there is something to be done about Loki. I still feel like I can bring him back to me, which would right so many of the wrongs in my life. The memory of Hjalmar haunts me still, but I’m trying to focus my mind on something that I can fix,” I explained, gazing up at the strong features of the gatekeeper.

The sides of his mouth twisted into the subtlest grin I had ever seen, but it was still there, “what you fail to realize is that death is not something that requires fixing. You do not lack the ability to fix death because it is just as much a part of life as living,” he stated, finally peeling his steely gaze away from the universe and focusing it on me. When I gazed up into those bright and burning eyes, I was overwhelmed by the beauty in them. He had seen so much beauty and so much pain, and I witnessed all of it every time we locked eyes. He continued, “I can still see him, and he misses you more than you know. He misses you with the same intensity as you miss him. He waits patiently for you, though, because he knows that it is not your time to reunite with him just yet. While he yearns for your company, you should see his joy. He has been reunited with his family, and when you meet your heroes end, you will be reunited with him as well. This doesn’t mean you should ignore your blessings while you are still among the living, though,” he explained, hinting at the one thing that I had not brought up, the one thing I refused to call attention to.

I still had not been home to see Aaldir. I had not mourned the death of Hjalmar with him, and instead, I forced him to mourn alone. I could not face him, knowing that it should have been me. Hjalmar was the only son he ever knew, and I knew that Aaldir would be devastated. I just didn’t know how to go home after this. I stared back out into the dazzling universe, desperately wanting to change the subject, “how are they?” I asked, knowing that Heimdall would understand my vague question.

“They are all in stable condition,” he answered as I felt his gaze shift from me and back out to the stars. It was as if he was watching them as he spoke, “Agents Barton and Romanoff have not left each other’s sides since New York, and they manage to keep each other stable. I think that Captain Rogers is handling it better than all of them, considering that he was still trying to rehabilitate himself when he was pulled back into the fight. Still, he is lonely and...isolated. I believe he could benefit from your company. Dr. Banner is also handling the stress well, but he has learned to master his own mind,” he added before letting out a deep sigh-something he usually did before mentioning Tony Stark, the man I always worried about the most. Not many people could see it and understand it, but Tony Stark was the embodiment of all that I held dear in my life, and when I saw his eyes after his fall from the wormhole, I couldn’t hold back my rampant protective instincts. Heimdall focused his attention back on me, “Stark is having a...difficult time coping with what happened, but he grounds himself in his work as much as he can. His state worries me the most, but I keep a close eye on him, as you requested, and I know to inform you if any of them are in danger.”

I gave him a curt nod, “thank you, Heimdall, not only for your council, but for taking on yet another responsibility just to appease me,” I remarked, my voice filled with gratitude for the man who was not only the Gatekeeper to my home, but also one of my dearest friends. I remained silent for a moment, not even a breath escaping my lips as I thought of the one person he failed to mention. I was unsure if it was to keep from hurting me or if-because the previous time he told me of her-I shed tears in front of him, which was something I rarely did. I gazed out at the beautiful universe and wondered if she was just as fond of the stars as I was or...if she was gazing up at them as well, our souls connecting through them for just a moment. I felt the tears rising in my eyes and the lump in my throat, “and what of her?” I asked, unsure of whether or not I truly wanted an answer.

One of his strong hands disconnected from his sword, and it grasped mine, calloused fingers wrapping around my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of her, of all the moments we shared before I did to her what Loki had done to me, “you did what was right, my lady,” that deep and smooth voice reminded me, “she is safe. She feels lonely-isolated-but she is safe, which was what you wanted for her. She knows not why she feels such sorrow and loss, but she doesn’t think of you...if that is any consolation,” he claimed, knowing that it was, “they miss you, Lady Eva. They all do. The people of Midgard still celebrate your courage to fight in New York, but the ones you fought beside know just how much the battle took from you. If they had a Watcher, they would be keeping a close eye on you, too,” he reminded me, “but you have others here who need you. I beg you to remember them as well.”

I choked back the tears as I gazed out across the Rainbow Bridge that led back to the beautiful city that surrounded the palace. I shook my head, ashamed that I had been so selfish to ignore the man who gave up his life to raise me, a man who had lost so much already. I let my guilt stand in the way of me supporting him, and I didn’t know how to go back after that. I tried to swallow back the lump in my throat before I spoke, “the problem is that I do not know how to return home. I know the way, but I do not wish to see the table my family once sat around, now with another empty chair. I do not wish to be in a silent room that had once been filled with his laughter. I cannot stand the thought of facing the man who raised me because I failed to protect his son!” I exclaimed, allowing a stray tear to fall.

“Never has there been a moment more tragic than when a goddess cries,” he murmured in a low voice as he reached out to wipe the tear from my cheek. I was no goddess, but I wouldn’t argue with him, not after my outburst, “are you not just as much Aaldir’s daughter as Hjalmar was his son?” he asked, pressing me to contemplate my reasoning for avoiding Aaldir, “you forget that he is the God of Mercy. Even if he harbored ill will toward you-which he never has-he has forgiven every mistake and every misdeed you ever have and ever will commit. Do not doubt his compassion and love for you, Lady Eva. Go to him. Mourn with him. Comfort him in the way only you can,” he urged me, resting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

I nodded my head, knowing that he was right. He made too many valid points for me to refuse his council, “if anything changes on Midgard or with...her...just-”

He cut me off, “you will be the first to know,” he smiled, knowing what I always made him promise me that before I left. I only wished to protect the ones I regarded as friends. I knew that Loki’s actions left a lasting impact upon the Midgardians, especially the Avengers. While I knew they didn’t need me to watch out for them, I needed to do that for myself. They deserved all the protection I could offer them because they chose to spare Loki when they could have killed him. I owed them everything. Tony was the most deserving of every ounce of my protection, for he took on the greatest responsibility of them all.

Knowing that Heimdall would keep his word, I turned away from him and made my way down the rainbow bridge, wishing for anything to stop me from making it home. Every step I took was another step closer to the place house Hjalmar and I grew up in, another step closer to the woods we used to play in every morning as children, another step closer to realizing that he was gone and that all I had left were memories. I didn’t allow the tears to begin falling until I reached the secluded woods surrounding our home. I followed the long path Hjalmar and I used to stray from because he had a strong belief that “adventuring is what makes life fun.” As soon as I dried the tears shed because of a beautiful memory, another memory would resurface, and more tears would fall. It was a losing battle, and upon realizing that, I allowed the tears to flow freely and without shame in them.

As I reached the end of the trail, I finally saw the modest cottage. My legs froze, and it felt like I was unable to breathe. I closed my eyes, the tears that budded on my eyelashes finally spilling down my cheeks. A whirlwind of memories flooded my mind. I could remember when Hjalmar was chased by a wild boar, and I refused to let him in the house because he was dirty and would ruin the freshly cleaned floors. I could remember when I was scolded by Aaldir for playing with the wolves outside, but I would still sing to them and bring them the food scraps whenever I could. Hjalmar knew about it, but he never told our father of it. I could remember Hjalmar breaking one of the branches of a tree whilst trying to climb it, and I cried so much that he planted a new one just for me. I could remember when my father presented me with my first sword, Thunderguard, Hjalmar practiced with me all day. He had been the one to inspire the name, telling me that I would someday fight on the battlefield with the God of Thunder, and it would be my sword to protect him. Aaldir made all of our weapons on his own, and he was the one who saw to it that my current sword, the one he presented to me when I returned from my first battle, was crafted perfectly by the dwarves of Nidavellir.

“Go inside.”

Hjalmar’s voice was soft but sure, and there was not a question in my mind that it belonged to him. I knew that voice better than my own. My eyes shot open, and I whipped around, frantically searching for him only to realize that it was merely a disembodied voice. When I turned back around, I noticed that the door into my childhood home was ajar, and Aaldir stood in the doorway. He didn’t move a muscle, but I knew it was merely out of shock to see that I had finally come home. As soon as I saw those soft brown eyes, the ones I had looked into all my life, I broke down. I no longer cared about what I would find missing within the walls of my home, but all I needed was my father.

As I ran toward him, he closed some of the space between us, arms wide open and waiting for me. I crashed into his body, throwing my arms around his waist, and knocking him back. Immediately after his strong arms wrapped around my frame, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears flow. His left arm stayed locked around my waist while his right hand rubbed circles on my back to soothe me. His body trembled as he choked back his own emotions. He always reminded Hjalmar and I that a true warrior is not ashamed of his own sorrow but embraces it when the time comes. I knew that he was desperately trying to ignore his own emotions to comfort me, but he was failing quickly.

“I tried to save him, but...I couldn’t. It should have been me!” I sobbed, pieces of Hjalmar’s final moments flashing across my closed eyes. I gripped my father’s shirt tighter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” I cried, allowing myself to fall apart with the knowledge that he was the first person I ever trusted to do that in front of. I crumbled, and he picked up all the shattered pieces and put me back together in time with his unconditional love.

He peeled me away from him just enough to cup my face with his calloused hands that had seen thousands of years of war. Those deep and haunting brown eyes were stern when he caught my gaze. Before he could speak, the tears fell down his cheeks and were caught in his brown beard that had begun to turn grey with age. He looked like a broken man in that moment, a man I had never seen before. Even when Hjalmar and I returned from battle, riddled with injuries, he never allowed us to see this side of him. Now, I saw him in such a different light. He was afraid. His eyes searched mine as he spoke, “I never want to hear you say those words again. I never want you to think that it should have been you!” he exclaimed, his voice deep and filled with emotion, “in a perfect world, I would have both of my children in my arms right now, and even though I have a pain in my heart where Hjalmar once was, I still have my little girl. I don’t want to think of what it would feel like to have lost both of you, and if I know anything about you, I know that you would have gotten yourself killed trying to protect him. The fact that you’re here right now tells me that there was nothing to be done to save him. You have nothing to be sorry for, Eva. You came back home to me, and this is where you belong,” he murmured, ignoring the tears on his cheeks to wipe away the tears from mine.

“He should be here, too,” I noted, pressing my face back to his chest.

He sighed that very particular sigh that a father used when he didn’t know how to fix the broken heart of his child. Aaldir had done that many times as I was growing up, and one of the last times he did it was when Loki had fallen from the bifrost. Loki had been just as much a son to him as Hjalmar. Aaldir always showed the trickster as much compassion and love as Odin should have. Where Odin failed to see Loki’s many talents, Aaldir celebrated him. I could remember moments when Odin was too busy watching Thor train that he would brush aside a hopeful Loki who had only wished to show him the new spell he learned. Aaldir, however, would sit for hours and listen to Loki talk about books, the stars, magic, Frigga, and...me. My father saw something in the young prince that not many others did, and he did his best to pull Loki to the light. I saw the sorrow in my father’s eyes when Loki fell, almost like he had lost a part of himself, too. For months, he comforted me as I cried myself to sleep, as I mourned the loss of my love, and I heard that same sigh. This time, it was because he couldn’t bring Hjalmar back. He could not fix my broken heart, but I knew that it would mean he would attempt to fill it with more love than ever before.

In one swift motion, he scooped me up into his arms, “I’ve got you, little wolf. Everything’s going to be okay,” he promised, and in that moment, I realized that even though I didn’t know how to return home, I had a father who would never give up on me. No matter how frightening the path may be or how dark it may seem, he would always find me and carry me home. I didn’t need to know the way.

*Thor’s POV*

Eva’s long brown hair cascaded over her body as I carried her through the halls of the palace with my mother in tow. Ephinea had talked Eva into accompanying her to the celebration of Hjalmar. It was a party thrown in honor of him. While I expected Eva to be in attendance, she was adamant that she would not be going when I invited her a week prior. However, when Ephinea asked her, she seemed to have a change of heart. I half-expected her to pay tribute to him with a song, but she drank the same way he used to. Perhaps, she was honoring him by remembering the way he lived, or she was drowning her sorrows in the ale he loved most. Either way, the night ended with her singing on top of one of the tables as everyone cheered her on. When I finally managed to coax her off of the table, she sat down on my lap and promptly fell asleep whilst the crowd continued singing and drinking.

That led us to this moment. I carried her down the hallways toward Loki’s chambers, knowing that she would feel most at home in there. She had finally spoken his name after quite some time refusing to do so. I knew that the loss of Hjalmar only made the problems with Loki even more tender. It only made her fight even harder for his freedom. While I knew my father would not budge on the subject, I also knew that Eva would not take “no” for an answer when it came to him. She would get him out of his cell one way or another. If I knew one thing about her, it was that she was more willful than anyone else I had ever met in my entire life. I took pity on any man who stood between her and the ones she loved. I would take pity on my father when the time came.

Upon reaching the doors that I had opened without invitation time and time again when I was younger, my mother pushed it open for me, allowing me the space to pass over the threshold with Eva in my arms. I walked her over to the bed, laying her body across the sheets she had slept beneath so many times before. While I knew not of the extent of their relationship, I knew that Eva would often find herself in Loki’s chambers in the early hours of the morning. The two would often sneak back to the palace after staying out late and watching the stars. Some nights, they would fall asleep beneath the night sky, and I would not see him until the next morning. There were also times when Aaldir would invite Loki into his home. I had received such invitations as well, but Loki and Eva had a special relationship that I’d never witnessed between two people before.

As soon as I laid her down onto the bed, the unconscious beauty grasped onto his pillow tightly, never once waking up. She curled up into the vast array of pillows and quickly became entangled in the bedsheets. I smiled at the similar view. I had witnessed it once before. Loki, Eva, and I came back after a night of celebration, and Loki offered his bed to her. Of course, she took up the offer, as Loki’s bed had an unnecessary amount of pillows, which she loved. He never had that many when we were young, but he built up quite the collection, and upon realizing that she loved a bed filled with pillows, he only added more. On that night, Eva had been so tired that she laid down in the bed, tossed and turned until she was comfortable, and when she finally found the perfect spot, she was as still and unmoving as a mountain. Loki and I had shared a laugh at that. It was one of the quirks I watched him fall in love with, and it was something that made me love her even more-she made my brother happy.

Mother stood in the back of the room by the door, but I couldn’t leave the side of the bed to join her. Instead, I could only stare down at Eva, reminiscing of a time we all knew peace. As I stood, gazing at the woman I had fallen in love with years ago, mother’s voice pierced the silence that fell, “she misses him. I can see it in her eyes every day,” she noted with a bittersweet smile as she watched Eva cling to the few things that reminded her of my brother. It was much more than just the pillows.

I turned to meet her eyes, but she was watching the sleeping girl. Eva was a princess if there ever was one, and I believed we could all see it. Soft and flawless sun-kissed skin was dusted with the smallest imperfections across her nose and cheeks. They were barely visible, but once you were close enough, they were all you could notice. They were like stars dusted across the night sky. They did nothing to take away from her beauty but added to it. There were her angular cheekbones that could cut through a man’s heart, and there was the thin slope of her nose. Her hair was dark like the eyes of her father, but what took every man and woman’s breath away were those eyes. They sat below full brows that came to a soft arch, and they were more brilliant than emeralds, a green that matched the colors of spring. Her eyes were without imperfections. No other colors dared to taint the purity of that green. Every time she looked at me, I was left speechless. While I admired their hauntingly beautiful glow, they were filled with so much melancholy that it made me want to cry. I had never seen a woman more beautiful than her, so beautiful that even her tears were stunning, falling like twinkling stars from the sky. They shimmered and sparkled, making it impossible for me to look away and respect her grief, which I had seen on countless occasions.

As my mother gazed upon the sleeping princess, I replied to her comment, “she’s been missing him for some time now. He abandoned her more than a year ago,” I scowled, thinking of how my brother could do something so selfish to someone who gave him everything she had to offer. She bore his burdens, and she lost everything for him. She made sacrifices for him that he would never know, and she gave him a gift he would never receive because of his stupidity and selfishness. She loved him, and he tossed her aside. I knew what led to his ultimate downfall, but...they could’ve run away together.

“You honestly believe that?” mother asked, sensing what I had been feeling, “if your father denied Loki of his happiness before, do you truly believe that he would allow them to run away together? Do you believe he wouldn’t search high and low for them? Do you have faith that he wouldn’t wage a war against your brother to get her back?” she asked, finally meeting my eyes. I shook my head, shame overcoming me for even thinking that it could’ve been so simple. I knew that my father had compassion for Loki, but it wasn’t love, not like the love he had for me. If he did, he would’ve agreed to Loki’s offer just to see him happy. It was why my mother felt so much sympathy for him. He found the one thing worth living for, and Odin denied him of simple happiness.

She motioned for me to join her at her side, “you say that she’s been missing him for so long because he abandoned her a short time ago, but she never abandoned him. She mourned him the same as we all did when he fell from the Bifrost. She was the first to go to Earth when she found out he was there, and she reached out to him to give him another chance. She was the last one to leave the throne room when he was being sentenced, and she was the first one who spoke out against your father, her king, in an attempt to free Loki into her care,” she reminded me of all the times Eva has refused to give up on a man who hurt her with such brutal vigor. On Midgard, it was like he hurt her for the fun of it, like he found joy in bringing her pain and suffering, but she continued to fight for him. Mother continued, “she’s seen what he has done, and it has terrified her. I’ve seen how it shakes her, how the fear rattles her bones. I know who and what she is, and I know that she sings the songs of life. Wherever she goes, life and nature thrive like never before. People are happy, the music is more beautiful, the flowers bloom even when it is not the season for them. She values life, and to see the man who means so much to her threaten that, it tears her apart and terrifies her. However, she still believes there’s a piece of him that is good, like he can still be saved. She misses the man he once was, and she misses the love they once shared. While he did abandon her some time ago, it’s harder now than ever before because he’s so close, but she cannot be near him,” she explained.

“He doesn’t care about her anymore, so she’d be better off if she did let him go,” I scowled, still tense and upset about what he did to her. While I knew that my feelings toward him were born out of my love for her, I tried to understand why he acted out. I didn’t know how I would react in his situation, so I tried not to pass judgement on my brother.

My mother cleared her throat, gazing back at the sleeping girl, “just like you would be better off if you let her go,” she remarked, reminding me that my behavior was just as unhealthy as I believed hers was.

I shook my head, “it’s different. I would treat her well!” I exclaimed, trying to make my mother understand that there would never come a day when I would try to hurt her. There would never come a day when I would lay my hands on her unless it was out of love. On Midgard, Loki broke his code of honor when it came to her. I had the most vivid memory of finding him on Midgard and finding out what he had done to her. Of course, he was swallowed by madness at that point, and her presence only drove him further into the abyss. I could remember the horrible things he said to her, words I wouldn’t even recall in my own mind because they were so vile. He destroyed her on Midgard, but he also surrendered because of her. The moment he realized what he was doing was brought upon by her showing him the same compassion she always had as she was on the brink of death, and she would have let it happen. She never fought him.

Mother’s voice pulled me from my own thoughts, “Loki believes the only way he can protect her is by sending her away. That’s why he pushed her away before he fell from the Bifrost and before he turned against you. He wanted to protect her. Is he misguided? Yes. Does he believe he is doing the right thing? I think so. Your brother is sacrificing the one thing he cares for just because he doesn’t want to taint something so good, and he believes that his presence brings pain. A handful of us watched Eva do the same not too long ago,” she stated, sorrow in her voice, “I know of no one who can simply stop loving a person, and you should be the first to know what that is like,” she murmured.

“My feelings for Eva aren’t what we’re talking about,” I reminded her, never feeling like it was right to delve into my most private emotions. I loved her, but that was a secret I would bring to my deathbed.

“Are they not?” she asked, furrowing her thin eyebrows. She reached between us and grasped my hands in hers, “I see the way you still look at her, my son. It’s the same way you used to look at her when the two of you were younger. She is still the object of your affection. You have tried your best to move on with this Midgardian girl, and you have tried to forget the feelings you harbor for Eva, but you have seen that it’s not that simple,” she said, mentioning my failed relationship with Jane. While I had feelings for the Midgardian woman, they were nothing compared to the feelings I harbored for Eva, and it was unfair for me to pretend like they were. I fancied other women-Ephinea and Sif-but I was still “hung up”-as Tony Stark would put it-on Eva. My mother’s slender fingers stroked the back of my hand as I thought of all the time I spent wishing for just one chance with Eva, but I would’ve never tried to take that away from Loki. I still wouldn’t. Mother’s voice cut through my own distress, and her words brought me some solace, “still, just as one cannot stop loving another, one cannot force themselves to love another. Eva harbors that love for only one person, and even though she tries to deny it, we’ve always known that he would be her undoing, and she would be his saving grace.”

38 notes · View notes

thcpariiah · 8 years ago

Text

file : find_common_ground.docx

TAGGING __ // STUART TWOMBLY, SCOTT MCCALL LOCATION __// THE UNDERGROUND ( COMMONS AREA ) TIME _ FRAME ___// RECENTLY INPUT_SUMMARY…?__// Scott visits the Underground to check on Stuart -- bringing him fresh pastries. They talk a little in the Commons Area.

Scott: Scott shifted the box full of still warm cinnamon rolls and scanned the hallway. He was seventy-five percent sure the next turn would have him at-- Scott stopped. The two hallway choices were nearly identical to him. Scott bit his lip. Okay. It was closer to sixty-five percent now. He picked the noisier option. More people meant he was bound to run into someone who knew where they were going. Scott followed the voices and emerged into a wider room with people. Scott spotted a familiar figure. Scott smiled. He'd lost his way, but he'd found the person he'd been looking for. "Hey." He lifted the box. "Cinnamon roll?" The offer sounded better than the first word he'd come up with.

Stuart

Stuart had ventured out of his room for the first time in a few days because he needed coffee -- he needed to get his computer back online and pick back up where he left off. He needed to ignore the yellow-black bruises still against the canvas of his porcelain flesh and try to at least pretend to be comfortable in his own skin again -- hopeful that he wouldn't get stopped by a soul that was far too curious and asked again about what went down, like it was nothing but a fun story to be told of adventures that some of the Underground members would never see. Never mind the mental anguish that even thinking about that murky, cold cell brought about.

He was testing a small sip of his coffee was he was beginning to make his way out of the commons area when a voice jolted him back to his senses -- lowering his cup with a grunt as he closed his eyes fleetingly to lower his heart rate from the surprise, his body still on the wrong side of jumpy. It meshed away from surprised, to merely confused -- eyes finding the box in the alpha's hands. "I -- what?"

Scott

He hadn't meant to surprise him.Scott opened the box,"Cinnamon rolls. Freshly baked. Pair well with coffee." This was better anyway.If Stuart had been in his room, maybe Scott wouldn't have found him at all. He didn't know much about Stuart, but he did know what he'd ordered at the cafe. Personalized gifts were better than random shots in the dark. "Man can't live on coffee alone, right?"

It was a flimsy excuse, but they had to start somewhere. And Scott knew what it was like to have people suddenly unsure of how they should deal with you. He figured Stuart would appreciate something more normal.

Stuart

He blinked a few times blankly as Scott spoke again, eyes finding the sweets in the box as his brows furrowed inwards -- almost as if he was expecting something to jump out of the box at him. He wasn't typically so paranoid -- and he knew he didn't have anything to fear from Scott, after all, he vaguely remembered Scott being with the group who helped take him from the government facility. But his nerves were still frayed in places -- causing them to spark uneasily while he relearned his calm.

" -- ... you brought me cinnamon rolls?" he asked, almost disbelieving as he pulled amber eyes back up to the alpha.

Scott: Stuart blinked, his cup poised in his hand, and brow wrinkled in confusion. Scott didn't see what was stunning about the situation. He chose to ignore the confusion. "Yeah. I mean, I can't eat all of them myself. I might as well share them." Stuart wouldn't need werewolf senses to see through his words. Scott had specifically bought them for him. Operation: Befriend the Coffee Drinking Hacker was a go. He couldn't help whatever the other was going through right now. And cinnamon rolls wouldn't make it better, but maybe it would be something good? A little bit of good could go a long way.

Stuart

After their initial meeting, Stuart had been convinced that Scott didn't exactly like him -- and he wasn't convinced that giving himself up in lieu of his brother was a fix-all; even if he knew that if they hadn't come when they had, it would've been much worse. Possibly to the point of being unfixable. (And it wasn't like Stuart had actually expected anyone to come for him. He knew they would go looking, but -- Akilah's stubbornness once again payed off in her favor.) And, especially after Stuart's recent development with Allison -- which he was also not eager to bring up to Scott -- he wouldn't have been surprised if Scott outright hated him. Possibly trying to see it through his eyes, Scott could very well think that he was trying to steal his best friend as well as his first love.

" -- why?" he asked, finally, with some apprehension.

Scott: Scott had been guarded in his first meeting with him. He hadn't expected to meet with someone with such a resemblance to Stiles. Void had cut deep in more ways than one. And after how many times new people had meant misery? New made Scott wary even if he was more tactful with his concerns than Stiles. The last four years hadn't helped either. They lent themselves to suspicion. But there was enough strife in his life. If there was an opportunity to add good to his own life AND help someone who was already important to Stiles, he was going to try. And he owed him. If Stuart hadn't gone, Stiles would have. Add Allison clearly feeling Stuart meant something to her, too? (Exactly what, wasn't something he was allowed to pry into now.) He would try. But he couldn't say all that here. "Why not?" Maybe he shouldn't give him an out. He might come up with an actual reason. "Or a thank you.A very poor thank you, but..." Maybe they didn't need to get into that. "Or maybe I had way too many cinnamon rolls this morning? Take your pick."

Stuart

Stuart once more blinked a few times, confused by the sudden change in attitude from the alpha -- eyes darting between the sweets and the other's expression. "For what?" he asked when Scott told him it was a thank you. He hadn't done what he did for thanks. He did what he did because of his brother. Because Stuart wasn't going to allude himself into thinking that he was more important than Stiles to Le Chassé. Sure, what he was able to do with computers was great -- but the rapport and friendship, and the love behind it, that Stiles had for the majority of the group was more important than a computer genius with no social skills and an asshole attitude to boot. He wasn't going to pretend that the rebellion couldn't continue without him, even after all he had done and the progress he had helped them achieve. He had seen his actions as the only logical step to make -- even if he didn't know what awaited him where he was taken; nor was he prepared for the recovery that still left his cheeks gaunt and on the wrong side of pale.

"I didn't do ... what I did to try and make myself heroic in anyone's mind. I'm not going to entertain the idea that Le Chassé would've suffered a more loss of me being gone, rather than Stiles. Stiles has a lot of things that I do not."

Scott: "Le Chasse,"repeated Scott in disbelief. "Le Chasse is important, but..." Is that what Stuart thought he meant? Le Chasse? Stuart had more in common with Stiles than he realized. Stiles before he'd realized his own powers had questioned his own value to the pack. Hell, he still probably did. The stakes were higher now, but Scott wouldn't have that with him. Or Stuart. "I'm not thanking you for preserving a key members of a rebellion. I--I'm barely down here. And I know that's going to change, probably sooner than I'd like, but... Stiles is my brother, too. You mentioned Le Chasse, but it wasn't just about that for you.Was it?" Scott shook his head. "Just because Stiles is important to Le Chasse. that doesn't mean you are any less important to all this."

Stuart: His tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip when Scott spoke again, swallowing fleetingly around a dry throat. "No," he admitted softly when Scott asked him if it wasn't just Le Chassé. He cleared his throat fleetingly, averting his eyes with a soft shrug of his shoulder. "Stiles is my brother. And I know him and I are vastly different. And I know I make it difficult for him to connect with me. But that doesn't mean that I don't care about him. That doesn't mean I don't feel the same connection that he does. Stiles had nothing to do with the nature of why I wasn't raised with him, and it's not his fault Noah never told him about me. I care about him, and I know everyone else does too. If I hadn't done what I did, Stiles would have. And I couldn't stomach the idea of something like that happening to someone like Stiles. Regardless, it did come down to who was more important -- even if not to the rebellion, but to individuals. They had Noah, and lord knows what they planned on doing to him. Something had to give."

Scott

Old habits meant it took him a second to realize Noah meant Stiles' dad. Scott's mom was the only one who referred to him as 'Noah' on a regular basis around Scott. He didn't want to make Stuart uncomfortable. But there was no avoiding this now. Stuart said Stiles would've turned himself in. "I know. I was trying to talk him out of it." Did that make these 'Sorry, I feel guilty' cinnamon rolls, too? He hadn't considered that possibility. Talking Stiles out of it had left room for Stuart to jump in."There weren't any good options." Scott closed the cinnamon roll box and held it out. "Still, if it means anything you didn't have to choose that. You went beyond what anyone would've ever asked. And I didnt mean to bring all this up. I swear. I thought maybe you'd want something nice. Normal. Because I know what it's like for people to suddenly see you differently, over something you've never asked for...But I can go."

Stuart

" -- I tried to talk him out of it, too.." he murmured, raking his teeth across his bottom lip and failing to try and ignore the memory of Stiles' panic running haywire in his own chest; their connection something that Stuart was still miles from understanding - or even feeling comfortable with, wondering if any good actually could come out of feeling the larger spectrum of each other's emotions.

I had no other option. Honestly, in all reality, Stuart knew that he did. But, he couldn't sit idly by and just watch Stiles turn himself in when he just got the usage of his powers back. Even if that meant Stuart forfeiting his own freedom and safety. " -- I haven't know what normal felt like since I was eighteen," he admitted softly, his eyes once more finding the box that was offered to him -- lips thinning as he let out a relenting sigh, gently taking it from the other. "You don't -- you don't have to leave," he said after a long beat of silence. "I just -- I'm not really good at this, Scott."

Scott: Multi-emotional expression Cinnamon Rolls. The thought was almost funny. Scott's reasons for talking Stiles out of it had been more selfish. He hadn't wanted to lose Stiles to who knew what. If Scott had a say, they would've rescued the Sheriff if possible and Scott would've moved himself and his Mom here or get her somewhere safer. As it was, Scott had been almost useless during a rescue attempt. And had only managed to be an inadequate shield. Cora had simply leapt where she pleased. And Scott had been too slow on multiple actions. Scott released the box and half-turned to leave, but Stuart stopped him with his words. Scott didn't know where to go from here. "No one's good at this. You don't have to be good at --" At what? Difficult conversations? Dealing with traumatic events? "--good at dealing with stuff. You just...try. That's all you can do."

Stuart: He let out a slightly bitter laugh -- more at himself rather than Scott -- as he shook his head for a fleeting moment. "Any of this," he clarified. As a child, Stuart didn't have many friends. ( One. He had one friend. Akilah. Who now played for the opposite side. ) The only time that he actually felt cared for as a child as around his parents, and Akilah. But; Stuart was okay with that. He didn't need a massive collection of friends. Honestly, he didn't have the tolerance for it. But after he lost his family, and after he left Akilah behind, he had felt ... unbelievably lonely for the first time in his life -- even while helping Le Chassé. It was only after coming here that that changed. That he had more than one person he could ... consider a friend. He had a brother. He had ... -- he had Allison. And then suddenly some of that had been put at risk and Stuart had no idea what to do with himself. "As a kid, I never had to deal with traumatic experiences until after I lost my family. I wasn't bred around it like Beacon Hills is. I don't --" he scoffed, shrugging a shoulder, "I don't know how to handle any of this. This isn't just a computer algorithm that I can crack."

Scott: Was everyone in Beacon Hills bred around tragedy? The Hales and Kate. Claudia Stilinski's death. Isaac and his father (and his brother's death for a time). Scott didn't consider his childhood to be tragic. His parents had divorced and he'd had a few brushes with asthma related incidents. But that kind of death while scary as a possibility had been explainable. Was that it's own kind of messed up? That he was distinguishing it from post-bite scenarios in his head? "I'm not sure what you mean, but...maybe don't try to handle it or crack it on your own? That never helps.And when you find people you care about keep them close. Take the wins. Even they're stupid and small?That's what you can do."

Stuart

His eyes dropped for a moment -- and he wasn't even sure at this point what caused the words that he said. He wasn't a sharer by any means. And it was definitely more words than he had said to most people in the Underground. Perhaps it could be blamed on the fact that he still felt exposed and vulnerable. Nasty memories of bruises still against his skin, and an almost haunted look in his eyes when he thought that no one was looking. As much as he tried to pull up the walls he was usually so used to being so safely behind, his foundation was still cracked. He just couldn't afford the time anymore to sit around and let himself recover. Especially not after learning that something had been done to Cora -- and, especially now that he knew the same could've been done to him, Stuart needed to invest the time in figuring out what.

"You and Stiles, and your pack -- you all dealt with so much shit before you even graduated high school. Dread Doctors and alpha packs. Dark kistunes. That's nothing that a teenager needs to worry about -- but you did it. I never had to deal with any of that. Despite always having my magic, it was never a problem for me. My town was small, and ignored." Stuart was not hardened by the events in his life, but rather only hardened on surface value -- and the surface was apparently much too easy to crack.

Scott: This. This was one of the reasons he avoided this place and dreaded the day if or when it would become necessary to be here more often. Scott couldn't fortune cookie, Hallmark-card his way out. If there was to be any trust here, he owed him the truth, too. Scott exhaled slowly."We did. We dealt with it,"said Scott. But it wasn't that simple. "I don't know what people actually know. But when people bring those things up it's like...highlight reel. They--they all make it sound like we were bad-ass and strong and capable the entire time like we're a threat. They leave out our mistakes, our pain, our terror and how we didn't know what we were doing. Us surviving--gets turned into triumphs." And it was infuriating. But it also wasn't Stuart's fault. Scott let out a breath slowly."What I mean, is we weren't stronger than anyone else. We're not better or braver than anyone else.And you are not weaker because you haven't gone through the same amount of shit. I'm glad that you haven't. I'm glad you had more time."

Stuart

Stuart shook his head ever so slightly, "I understand that it's not all black and white," he breathed. "But that's not the point. The point is that you still powered through, and you're still ... " Stuart trailed off for a moment, lost for the right word. "You still believe in the best of people. You might not trust me, but that's an entirely different story. Trust and seeing the good in someone is two totally different things." He was at least akin to his brother in the way that he couldn't always see the good in everyone -- sometimes, he even didn't want to. Like the faceless men in the white coats who wanted to put the strange device in his head. The men who somehow thought that that was okay and humane.

Albeit, Stuart cleared his throat and shook his head, "I'm sorry. This is not why you came down here," he finally breathed with a rough shake of his head. "Thanks for the cinnamon rolls," he breathed, glancing down at the box in his hand before back to the alpha. "And -- uh..." he faltered before sucking in another breath. "Thanks for helping to get me out. And making sure that Allison got out, too." He knew breaching Allison between them was probably a shaky subject, but he also knew that completely skirting around her wouldn't get him very far in the long run.

Scott

It's not his fault. It isn't. Scott bit his tongue and decided to focus on listening to him. Not whether anyone else was listening. Not about the million reasons he found it harder to focus down here: Darkness, enclosed spaces, chemicals in pipes, and not quite stale air, metal and cement and all of those little things that reminded him of other places where he'd felt all of what he'd described briefly to Stuart. Focus. What was Stuart saying? Trust him? He wanted to, he did. He wouldn't lie about that, but saying it out loud? That he didn't trust him even after he'd nearly sacrificed himself for Stiles. That would be an insult. And they were already on uneven footing. Scott only knew one immensely important act of Stuart's--besides the work he'd done for Le Chasse. The rest? Stuart probably knew much more about him.

"You don't have to thank me for that." He'd barely done anything. Stealing things from a dead man while wearing a hockey mask was hardly an achievement. "I'm glad you're both safe."

Stuart: "I don't have to," he agreed with a small shake of his head, "But I will. You didn't have to be there. You can't use your abilities like the rest of them could -- and you're not a trained hunter like Kara and Allison is. You didn't have to risk yourself to be there, especially when you're one of the few left on Topside -- and one of the few still off the Wanted lists. You could have easily have sat it out and no one would've thought less of you for it. But you didn't." He huffed out a breath and gave a loose shrug of his shoulders. "That's not lost on me, whether you think that I should thank you for it, or not. I know you don't particularly like me, and that's okay -- I don't need you to. And I know you only did it for Stiles, and I'm not going to pretend any different. But I still appreciate it. I want you to know that."

Scott: There was a fine line between caution and cowardice. He would've thought less of himself. Stiles hadn't needed powers to make a difference years ago. Nor had Scott's mom and Stiles' dad --both of them were completely human. He'd come for Stiles,for Allison,and for someone who'd risked his own life for the past four years for all of them. Stuart wasn't wrong,though. Being there for Stiles had outweighed the other considerations. And Allison had only just returned to them. Admitting Stuart came third on the list wouldn't help this conversation. And Scott had no idea how to react to someone praising him when part of his motivations had been selfish. "I don't know you yet. That's different from not liking you.But what I do know is this place wouldn't even be running the way it is without you. And you've been making sacrifices for 4 years--long before you chose to do what you did."

Stuart

Stuart understood that he wasn't the easiest person to get to know. Stiles had made an effort -- but he also had a reason to make an effort. Allison was -- ... It was a sequence of lucky happenstances that brought them together in silences that had grown into much more than that. But, once again, he almost felt guilty thinking about Allison in the presence of Scott. Almost. He just didn't want the other to feel he was being malicious in his intentions with Allison towards him. It was anything but.

"You don't have to pretend that I'm not an asshole," was his simple response. He grew up understanding that he had an unlikable personality. He didn't need people to like him to be able to do his job. It was ... refreshing, yes, to have people who he almost considered friends. But, he also didn't want to force the alpha into feeling like he had to enjoy his presence only because he was his best friend's brother.

Scott: Scott snorted,"I don't know whether you are one or not. How could I pretend anything?" He'd met people who were killers; deceivers, self-serving opportunists; ambitious, power hungry graspers; and, garden variety jerks and bullies. He didn't see that with Stuart. "But assholes don't think they're assholes. They think they're completely right about everything." And usually made everyone around them miserable. "Why are you so committed to convincing me you're unlikable? If you are, I'd find out on my own, wouldn't I?" If Scott had been a mind-reader, he would've pointed out people had rarely been successful at forcing him to do things. Join Derek's pack. Stop trying to save everyone. Stay dead. Scott was generally more inclined to trying to make peace, but he could be just as stubborn.

Stuart

A frown formed against his lips when Scott spoke. Truth be told, he didn't expect the reply from him -- the corners of his lips reaching downwards as he let out a sharp breath. Currently, his inhibitions were broken and scattered and his state was more vulnerable than he was accustomed to. And while he thought it would make him lash out more -- the honest truth was that, unless he felt threatened, it had him speaking more than he was usually inclined to. And while he wasn't sure how he personally felt about Scott, he didn't feel threatened around.

"I was never really good at making friends," was his response to Scott's words. "It was easier to just push people away -- they always thought that I would be different than the way I always initially acted. I assumed that that made me an asshole."

Scott: "I only had one for a really long time." Friendly with a lot of people didn't equate to a lot of friends. There was a difference. And he hadn't really needed more. Quality not quantity had definitely applied to their situation. And he wasn't trying to push the Stiles as best friend as an angle. It was extremely relevant to the conversation and unavoidably what had lead them here.

"I don't even know how that happened.Him peeing on my sandcastle isn't what you expect for a solid foundation of friendship."

Stuart

Despite himself, Stuart snorted slightly at Scott's words. He shifted to lay both his coffee mug and the box of pantries down on the table so that he could sit down on the ratted couch nearby -- his sore body beginning to protest standing too long, muscles aching and screaming and not quite concealing a wince as he lowered himself down; trying to hide it by grabbing his mug and taking a small sip of cooling caffeine.

"He pissed on your sand castle?" he echoed with a small shake of his head. " -- my only friend was a girl named Akilah. She -- Kara had contact with her, and she's one of the reasons you guys were able to find me. She basically just spent every lunch period staring me down behind her food until I agreed to sit with her. That's how she became my friend."

Scott

"Yeah, it was a good sandcastle,too. I made him apologize. Or maybe my Mom did." Scott pulled napkins from the paper bag he'd brought the cinnamon rolls in. He noted Stuart's wince, ignored the impulse to ask if he was alright,and the second urge to reach out a hand to siphon pain away. Scott hadn't managed to find the infirmary again on his own since Allison and Stuart had been taken there by Derek and Isaac.He could've asked,but he'd talked himself out of going to see them. And then Allison had left the infirmary. She'd probably gone back to her room. Scott sat and leaned closer in to offer Stuart napkins.And caught a familiar scent off of Stuart's clothes. "You've seen Allison? How is she?"

Stuart

His eyes darted over to Scott as he moved closer and offered him a napkin -- lowering his mug to reach out and take one before the male was speaking again. "You -- " before he was able to ask, though, he cut himself off as his brain caught up to the other's words -- and he realized. Oh. He probably smelled of Allison; against his clothing, against his skin. And with that thought, he tore his eyes away from the other.

"She's ... She'll heal just fine. It might scar, but Deaton told her she was lucky it wasn't a few inches lower -- it could've gotten her heart. Or her lungs." As it was, it merely had embedded itself in her shoulder blade before one of the infirmary nurses had taken it out. "She's in a lot of pain, but --" He trailed off with a small shrug of his shoulder, a nasty twist of guilt in his stomach. "She'll heal."

Stuart

He licked his lips tentatively for a moment before hesitantly bringing his gaze back to the alpha. While there was an inkling of guilt, he refused to be apologetic about himself and Allison. The guilt was merely situational -- from standing here in front of Scott in the light of talking about his first love who "died" in his arms. Stuart might have had his shortcomings, but he didn't lack empathy. But that didn't mean he was going to step down from whatever him and Allison were becoming, nor was he going to deny it.

"I know what you meant," he reassured him after a moment.

Scott: "Oh. Good."He needed to pick another word.The English language had a billion of them. Preferably words that didn't circle back to the ones Stuart had highlighted like "heart" and "lungs" that Scott's brain unhelpfully associated with "Theo" and "weaponized wolfsbane." Or "death." There's one that kept swirling back. Any other words would be better.He needed to direct his attention to something else. He opened the cinnamon roll box,removed a roll with a napkin, and offered it to Stuart."And that's another point in favor of non-asshole-ness.She wouldn't have gone in after you if she didn't care." She definitely wouldn't have gone in alone. He scooped up a roll for himself. It was still warm in his hand. He'd thought more time had passed since he'd left the cafe. It was something normal, simple, and solid. At least, the rolls were helping someone even if he'd intended to help Stuart not himself.

Stuart

Stuart was thankful that Allison's injury hadn't been worse than it was -- and, even so, there was a strong sense of guilt about him because of it. If he hadn't let Allison get so close, she wouldn't have felt the need to come alone. And if she hadn't come alone, then she would've never have been hurt. The stranger -- the guard -- would have never have been killed. And -- even if he had spoken with no one about it, even Allison -- the guilt over taking a life, even in the dazed state he had been in -- and even to save Allison's life -- was another hit against his will that he was trying to internalize.

He took the roll, almost hesitantly, as it was offered to him -- leaning more so against the couch and letting the light pain from the adjustment roll down his spine. " -- she wouldn't have been hurt if she hadn't come after me." Or if she had just waited, a portion of his guilt leaking out. And, by proxy, a peak into the fact that Stuart genuinely did care quite a bit about her as well.

Scott: "She fights for the people she cares about. She would've come. Should she have waited? Maybe. But she could've gotten hurt even if she had waited, too." She hadn't been the only one willing to risk themselves for Stuart just the most eager. His friend that Kara spoke about came to mind. Stiles. People did care. It made Stuart's perception of being unlikable even more confusing for Scott. "You're important to her." It wasn't his place to poke into whatever it was. She and Scott had already broken up before they parted. And even if that hadn't been the case, someone deserved happiness in the middle of all this. Friendship or something else? It didn't matter. Being alive meant she had to actually live, too. "You don't have to feel guilty about that. And someone else hurt her. Not you."

Stuart: Stuart was well aware that he would've been in worse shape if Allison hadn't come when she had -- the perpetual haunting and stereotypical phrase just in time came to mind; the haze of the sedative they had given him still a terror that haunted him when he closed his eyes. And the wonderful girl who deserved much better than him shoving her way through the fog of it to drag him out until the others could find them. He cleared his throat when Scott spoke, the corners of his lips twitching as he ducked his head down, "She's important to me, too --" he breathed, hoping the wasn't breaching an unspoken line with the alpha. "Which is exactly why I feel guilty."

Scott: "I'd say you don't have to feel guilty about that either, but I know people don't get a choice in how they feel." He unraveled a piece off his cinnamon roll. "Guilt's one of those stupid ones that likes sticking around." It liked settling in, stacking one reason on top of another weighing a little heavier as time went on. "It lies and tries convince you that you shouldn't accept the good things that come your way..." He didn't want that for himself or Stuart or Allison or Stiles or anyone. If only emotions were dispatched with a swift upper-cut, a bite, or a magic word. Scott would rather exhaust himself fighting than dealing with what was in his head sometimes.

Stuart

He let out a small breath at that. Guilt wasn't something he was overly used to feeling -- nor were the other emotions that were sticking around. Like fear. Mental anguish. Anything and every thing that kept him from having a decent night's sleep here recently. Clinging to him like a sickness, or a disease. Deeper and harder than any of the bruises against his skin. He shook his head, carding a hand through unruly hazelnut locks before he was picking at the edge of the roll.

"I guess I'm just -- I'm not used to people actually caring."

Scott: "Your friend...the one that's also good with computers. She's definitely cared for a while." Scott had always felt that if you cared about someone or something you showed it with actions. His mom healed people with her sense of humor and medical knowledge. The Sheriff proved he cared even when it was saying things in exasperated tones with them. He'd been lucky in that way. His circle had been smaller when he was younger, but he had always known he was loved. He hadn't considered a what a world would be like if you thought people didn't care. "I guess...it just took an intense situation that required people doing something that proved they cared for you to know? "

Stuart: "Akilah," he breathed when Scott mentioned his friend from before all of this started. "-- she did. I -- does." It was different with Akilah, somehow. He knew things would be easier if Akilah still assumed that he was dead. But, at the same time, if Akilah hadn't helped, they would have never found him. Thinking about her only hurt; because she was all he had left when his parents died, and he was forced to leave her behind. Because she was so bright. And so wonderfully human that he didn't want to drag her down with him. " -- I'm just ... not comfortable with the knowledge that there are people willing to risk their lives to save mine."

Scott: Scott nodded when Stuart said his friend's name. He hadn't known what words to say or what would reassure Stuart throughout any of this. He still didn't. "They believe you're worth it. I don't think there's anything I can say right now that's going to make you comfortable with knowing people are willing to risk so much. But..." What was he trying to say? "You believe their lives are valuable. And they believe your's is too. Isn't that a good thing? Valuing that. Wanting people who are good to keep existing in this world." Loyalty. Friendship. Love. All of those things gave life meaning. "It's scary and it hurts because it matters."

Stuart

" -- it's not a good thing when it ends up getting them killed," he breathed, just thankful that Allison, or Stiles, or Scott, or any of the others weren't killed in an effort to rescue him. Moving on from what happened was difficult -- but, he didn't know if he would've been able to at all if they lost anyone because of him. ( And -- despite his brother's insisted apology, he refused to blame Stiles. Even though Stiles had a reckless personality, it wasn't his fault that Cora had exposed him. Everything drew back around to the government. To the stupid laws that divided them. )

It was a rough line -- deciding where to draw it in the sand. He had never allowed himself to open up enough to let some many people in before it was dangerous to do. And now more than ever, he was terrified of losing the people had had grown to care for in such a small amount of time.

Scott

"No, it's not." It would never be a good thing. And if he could shield anyone from that pain, he would. "All we can do is try to keep that from happening." It wasn't up to him. There were no guarantees. Scott had almost died so many times he'd stopped trying to keep track. "The safest option in theory would be for everyone to hide.And stop doing what we've been doing."

It wasn't simple and both of them knew that. "But then,what? Let the hunters take everything?Let the violent supernaturals feed into the public's fear? Wait until the hunters or the other side come for everyone not like them? They're not going to stop."

And if Stuart and Scott had been the type of people who could sit back and watch that happen, they wouldn't be here."I don't know if I still have the power to make any sort of difference.But I try.At least, I'll know I did everything I could."

Stuart

Stuart let out a breath and shook his head -- he wasn't sure if he would've started in this fight if it hadn't been for his brother's connection. But, at this point, even if Stiles was somehow not involved, Stuart knew he still would fight. At this point, he knew he was on the right side and he would do nothing to stop himself from helping as much as he could. Even only his skills could just take him so far -- he couldn't get as deep into hyperspace as he wished he could, walls thrown up at every angle the deeper he got, and he knew better than to endanger Akilah and ask her help -- she had endangered herself enough without Stuart asking her.

"We're all just doing what we can."

#mission : chatzy #c: s. mccall #chatzy 009

1 note · View note

radicalrave · 8 years ago

Photo

Ok, I'm going to present one of list of most favorite anime/manga/light novel series in mosaic in chronological order and will give reasons why I love series and made it on the list.

Reason being is cuz my tastes have changed over time and some series aged well and some didn't, and you'll see why that is when I give my thoughts and reasons.

However, I will give an honorable mention on here, since it won't show up on here. You'll come to see my patrician tastes as 4chan delicately likes to put it haha (yes, I'm a channer and I love trolling with the kids there hahaha that place is information gold that's real and legit.)

1.) Evangelion: Let's face it, this is like most people from the 90's top selection. Not only is it vintage for being around for 20 years and iconically dark for a dark shounen (boy's) series, it left a major impact on the industry and the world in ways that most people, even I underestimated. Infact, I'd venture out to say that this series has aged perfectly well compared to lots of others during its time period. It has definitely aged far better compared to Cowboy Bebop and Betterman and all of it's contemporary peers in the competition back in the day. Infact, we're a few years ahead of that series now, which is strange cuz most of us probably didnt expect to see life past 2010 and 21 hahaha. As a whole, this series was far better compared to everyone else. Now, admittedly, it was dark and has some themes that provoke good questions for society at the time in terms of "what if's." At the time, you can tell that the director was a major nihilist and didn't like the direction the world was going, and you can basically see that in his work here. I know I don't have much to say about this series and it does sound like a weak biased argument and apologize for that, but in all honesty, it's done one thing that most series in the 90's was capable of doing: Stand well against the test of time. THAT's what made it impressive. Even though lots of stuff in it are very much obsolete and clunky now. I mean... all that clunky stuff... its hard to believe we used to live in an ugly world like that at one point in time.

2.) FLCL: Now, I'll admit, it IS overhyped and overrated. I sometimes still can't see the big deal behind it, but I will say this, for a 6 episode mini series, it's directed well with excellent art direction all around on the topic of growing up and coming of age. Back then, it did look very mature and course, but now that I'm older, it's definitely a kids series which was admittedly a bit too edgy and dark for it's time, but, I think could have done better had it been more balanced out being a bit more colorful and lighter instead of darker.

I suppose at that time when pop punk and me was going around that time, and correct me if I'm wrong here, I believe Japan was going thru an economic crisis at the time, which is probably why there was such a negative foul air over the future and industry of Japan and the world as a whole at the time, politically and economically speaking.

The series can be a bit of a cool watch if you're into that era of time, but I would venture to say it's one of those that I'd definitely like to keep in my library, along with stuff like Super Milk Chan and anything else that popped up at that time. It was progressive in it's own way coming off very gritty and crunchy in it's own sense if you understand what I mean about the rough comic aesthetic that it gave off at that time.

3.) Gurren Lagan: This was one of the last Gainax series before they ended up closing shop, and not to mention, progressed past it's predecessors in being extremely fast paced. I loved the art and direction and it was fast paced that had excellent action scenes and novel epic art. However, my main qualms about this series, is that it should have just been 1 season long. I feel that it failed past the time skip in the last 10 episodes and should have crunched the last episode into episode 13, therefore, preserving and making it a quality series holistically instead of being watered down and suffering overtime like Death Note did after volume 7 when L died. In Bakuman, you can tell that Ohba and Obata (Ashirogi Muto) when they made their (Death Note; It's obvious people) that they wanted to end it there to preserve its quality as an art as a whole so that it doesnt suffer, unfortunately, the editorial and the shuisa jump magazine pushed for it, which is why we got a weird asspull with Mello and Near after, and you can see how they wanted to end Death Note with this.)

Now, Gurren Lagan, I liked the direction, it was ok, but it also had some misses too over time. It wasnt perfect, but the direction was fresh for it's time. However... personally speaking, if I were to replace this with another series that deserves an honorable mention, and it's directed by one of my current favorite directors in the industry right now, it's Re: Cutie Honey, based on Go Nagai's manga back in the 70's as one of the first and original magical girls to come and pop up with it's modern digital groovy colorful and psychedelic disco aesthetic. I really loved the direction and way it came out and would love to endorse how much I love the direction behind these kinds of aesthetics in anime and manga. Personally, I'd like to see both modern and old school and see how they age 10-30 years from now, just like alot of series I grew up with over the yeras. This however, is NOW 10 years old and remember when it first came out and the internet and DA was all big about it with Ryoko and all that, but I admit that it was a bit overhyped, I like it, it was a bit sometimes edgy and weird, the weird was ok, edgy, at least it wasnt but it would have been better had it been toned down even with coolness and make it more cartoonier and it would have definitely succeeded. The final fight scene in the series is the best and loved it and wished that it ended sooner than it did, then the series would have ended perfectly. The last 10 episodes of that season was watered down, the plot was weakened and honestly wasnt a big fan after that. It's one of those 7/10 that could have been a 9/10 in my book.

4.) Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei: THIS. THIS SERIES IS BY FAR THE BEST THAT HAS CAME OUT IN THE PAST 3 DECADES! What's frustrating is that it was poorly marketed, underrated and poorly localized. It is by far one of the best directed anime series of all time that I haven't seen been topped off or progressed in yeras. The closes to it is the Monogatari series which is based off the light novel series and directed by the same director who took up the project. You can tell by the direction with the slides and the timing of the scene changes. Zetsubou however was fresh, creative for it's time and progressive and to this day, I still consider to be and supposed to be the future of anime and manga.

Based off the manga series by iconic mangaka Koji Kumeta, Kumeta was one of those guys who taught me how important critical tone and dialogue is when it comes to witty batter and writing when it comes to screenplay, writing and manga and the guy lets his frustrations out with gusto. I haven't seen anyone come as close to how good this guy is as a writer other than Sorachi of Gintama fame, who is also one of my top and favorite mangaka of all time. As a quality series as a whole, I also put it up there with Death Note, but much higher. I like his simplistic art style that he has adopted past his earlier works and the art style that changes over time that sticks out and can tell, it's his. and both the writing and the art compliment each other well perfectly with excellent satirical critical tones. You can tell that his writing style is pervasive in Joshiraku, Impatient Count and the Time Thief and toned down in his latest work Kakushigoto. (Yes, I'm a huge fan of this guy who is underrated and not well known and honestly wish he would get better credit than he currently deserves and is by far one of the best creative driving forces in the industry I have ever come across.)

What makes this series tick out and perfect art the gags and the dark truth satirical tones this series takes. The characters are original and fresh and very likable, memorable and have a charm that makes them attractive. Basically, the way he designed them holistically is far better compared to anything that Akamatsu of Love Hina and Negima has done and basically executes his work with excellent precision. The topics the teacher brings up are interesting and basically rags on everything that annoys him as he and his students debate about life topics in and out of school. You can say its like a modern high school version of charlie brown peanuts with a bit of a Tim Burton feel to it, but not as macabre and also somewhat cute. I like how he questions politics and law as well in this work of his and perfectly concludes it with 300 chapters in 30 volumes with a pretty comical yet grim ending that people will come to remember as a holistically quality work worth keeping and remembering for the years to come. This ended about roughly 5 years ago, so it has been around for quite a while the past 12 years and has done a good job aging for that generation of people who were around for the Haruhi and Lucky Star hype back then. This one is easily a 9 or 10/10, cuz its that good.

Localizing may be tough, but its best to appreciate it for what it is. Its still never came over here considering how good it was back then, but I can still see it as future of anime kind of things.

5.) Tatami Galaxy: Now this one is admittedly a bit pretentious with being known as a fast talking anime series for an older audience set in a university setting. I love the art direction, but the theme is kind of redundant, but it can be fun to watch. It's based off a light novel series which apparently gets alot of positive critical attention overseas, but the direction for the anime, you can say that its equivalent to the speed of the voices for the dubbing of Speed Racer back then. Having seen Speed Racer in it's original intended language, I love it far more and it's more natural and relaxed and presented in the way that it was meant to be and honestly, I loved it.

This however, is one of those ones if you want an articulate post modern art college watch and want to kick back and relax, as it can be somewhat confusing as he goes back in time alot and redoes things with every episode till the last episode. You can equate it to that of Haruhi's 2nd season of the Endless 8 arc where the same exact thing except presented differently in each episode is done, but this was better, and was probably one of the biggest trolls in anime history of all time. It CAN be pretentious but it isn't completely per se either.

6.) Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt: OK... I lied... THIS is one of the best progressive anime series with best art direction of all time. It's very western animation influenced in western cartoon format and very colorful. To me, THIS is what I'd still consider and call the future of anime and still should be looked at as such. Here are reasons why. It's simple, not in depth or edgy and dark, but it was just completely perfect all around to the point that it seriously does deserver a 10/10 in my book. Hands down.

Lasting only one season with a trolling cliffhanger, it is one of the best episodic series I have come to watch and enjoy as an anime series of all time and wish that more anime would adopt the kind of aesthetic this series brought to the table. Aside from probably being the LAST Gainax series before the director went on to form Trigger the upcoming years with Kill la Kill, Kiznaiver and currently airing Little Witch Academia, it stood out for it's colorful art direction and cartoony feel that it had which I feel most anime SHOULD have. Despite the history of anime and manga being heavily western influenced by Disney and the country's earliest calligraphy and erotic paintings and shunga back in the pre modern times.

Now, it IS raunchy and not for kids, so let me emphasize when I say that when you watch the dubs or the original with liberal subs, it can be taken out of context at times, but still... it is very raunchy and not really kid friendly, the context in its original language is admittedly very crude, but not as crude as the liberals and americans tend to portray it here theatrically in its direction. Infact, it's so Raunchy, Adult Swim CAN'T air it here in the states, considering that AS is mostly for kids and teens in the day and age and not really adult shows. I've seen adult series and honestly, alot of what I posted aren't considered as such, This one is more like teens and older adult with childish and kid like theatrics and appeal which is what I really like about it. So... its probability for one of those extremely leftist liberal families that are cool with sitting with their kids and educating and explaining content to their kid with guidance so they can be mature NOT to do or say those things that is presented on here, but realistically, the statical odds of things like that are extremely small to most likely less than 1%.

Admittedly, it DOES need a 2nd season and there is a following and demand for it, considering the way it had ended 7 years ago in Christmas of 2010. It's one of my favorite art directions at the time for cool stuff like Danganronpa, No More Heroes or Mad World, lots of games with colorful comic noir aesthetics like that and is honestly at the top of my list as one of the best landmarking and progressive anime series of this decade that to this day, STILL hasn't been topped off at all. It's easily a 10/10 in my book, so do watch with discretion.

7.) Eccentric Family: This one, I caught this one a bit late. This is from the same writer of the Tatami Galaxy Novel series and illustrated by Koji Kumeta of Zetsubou Sensei fame, so you can see I have a bit of my biases of my favorite people in the industry who team up and work together on different projects, this is one of them.

The plot is very simple and not complex and its not deep or edgy. It's quirky and fun with some colorful playful humor with alot of Japanese folktale lore presented in modern day japan. This series is very reminiscent to that of Paranoia Agent and has features that are similar to it, though unfortunately Satoshi Kon hasn't been with us since his passing in 2010. What's great about this is that a 2nd season has been green lit this year and will be airing this year, so you will be on time to hop on and enjoy the ride with the rest of us on this fun and quirky ride of tanukis and tengu.

8.) Kill la Kill: I'm sorry but I'm majorly biased cuz I love Ryuko chan and would love to wife her as my waifu obviously. But joking aside:

Kill la Kill is currently Trigger's most popular magnus opus in the industry right now and one of their earliest works. They have put out some stuff before they put this one out. They later ended up putting out Space Patrol Luluco and Kiznaiver at the same time last year which both performed well, but never outshined Kill la Kill to this day and so far, Little Witch Academia with a few OVAs the past few years and currently airing is expected to be the next big magnus opus that will outshine it. I can see it and like how kid friendly it is and it can't, mostly for the semi nudity and side boob that it shows. Not that that's a problem, but lots of conservatives will have a problem with it and can lose an audience because of things like that when marketed and presented to the public.

It's one of the first project after the director formed it after working on Panty and Stocking and did other shorts such as Sex, Violence and Machspeed, which is a knockoff of Panty and Stocking with a different comic noir aesthetic and were cameoed in Space Patrol Luluco along with Sucy from Little Witch Academia.

This series is a semi kids series and love it and would love to own the anime BDs for sure. There are subtle hints of politics in this series in terms of life fiber and alliances in the series. It's NOT the best but its decent and ok and not as progressive or articulate compared to the others I have mentioned on here, and had it tried to be progressive in the timeline trying to progress past them as a quality art, it would have definitely succeeded as a 10/10 and mostly gets roughly an 8 or 7 out of 10. 8 cuz I'm being nice and love Ryuko, but thats not an excuse or reason to give it an extra point.

The plot was simple, it wasnt that deep or edgy or dark, its somewhat colorful and cartoony is what I like about it and its not raunchy or explicit showing nipples or anything, its simple. It can be seen as for adults and older teens, its basically a coming of age for girls outgrowing their high school years and questions the nature of humans in society.

It can be seen for kids, but mostly kids at the age of 10, but I can see it definitely see it being coarse. Now, it's not as course and raunchy and tantalizing compared to To Love Ru which is indeed raunchy in a good light and thankfully not disgusting, but there's easter eggs that you'll see in the art and expression of the series where you'll see exposed areas in the reflection of the series that bypasses the censorship laws in japan for manga and anime on tv to the point that Yabuki has been taken to court a few times because of upset parents. Basically, he would literally draw in very subtle stuff like a vagina and clitoris in the reflections in the art and would be easily overlooked and most people even editorial wouldn't notice but bypassed censorship laws that not even hentai artists could do. I remember a documentary of Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations when he went to Japan and sat with the mangaka who invented the tentacle rape to bypass Japanese censorship laws because of a loophole he noticed and exploited.

Same here, but he used reflections instead of blatant exposure. So if you read the series, if you look at water drops, metal reflectors or bubbles and mirrors, you will definitely be seeing vagina, penises and clitoris that you aren't allowed to be seeing and are outlawed on Japanese media but only because its bypassed censorship laws by exploiting a loophole found. This was noticed in To Love Ru Darkness, and the story behind it was kind of sad and understandable as Yabuki went thru a divorce with his wife who caused him trouble and left him being a single parent, so it was in a sense of him retaliating and venting off his anger and frustration off of society and pushed the border which gave him the name (madman yabuki.) He is known for his earlier work Black Cat which ended prematurely on 20 volumes last decade and is the main artist and collaborates with the writer of the series. But is known to be raunchy and cleanly tantalizingly provocative for sure.

So there is debate, its questionable, its hard to categorize and tell at times (sorry, psychology talk here) but its definitely memorable for Ryuko and the trigger studio for putting another quality series out there. Personally, had the plot, direction and writing been better with better art direction all round in being progressive, it could have easily gotten a 10/10 in presenting something in a way that's unique and in a way that's yet to have been done before, there aren't much annoying tropes which I liked about it, but still, had they done better research, worked harder and didnt half assed it and outperformed, I would definitely have been raving about it for yeras to come and age well to landmark and progress the timeline of the industry's history.

9.) Last but not least, SPACE DANDY: I LOVE THIS SERIES. IT's colorful, brilliant, hip and amazing all around and definitely Watanabe's best work as an anime director the past 20 years. This series definitely outshines any work he's done with Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo combined by giving it a colorful and quirky cartoony feel and making it enjoyable and fun to watch that's not dark, but it's unique and experimental in the story telling models and style of series for what it was. Rather, it wasn't episodic, but there was lots of academic themes in science and philosophy that are mentioned alot that surpasses sci fi in the past which is WHY it's currently his best work, It's brilliant touching up on topics such as physics and mathematics, the pure sciences and talks about stuff such as different dimension, time travel, and the like and he does it in such a way that its excecuted perfectly and enjoyable to watch all around as a holistic watch. Over time, Ic an see it aging well for the next 10-15 yeras, depending on how society, literature, thought and technology goes and progresses over time. Its definitely watanabes best and creative work, even though he has experimented and messed with mixing things up with different cultures and time periods, this however, was not so much as by the book, but he takes that and applies it and get creative and makes it better and doesnt try too hard like he did in the past, but keeps it simple. THAT shows true mastery. Its similar to that of Ashirogi Muto's current project Platinum End. By the book, but applied and creative past that, and that's exactly what Dandy did. Though, his work after Dandy; Terror in Resonance, was his weakest and bad project and waste of funding since it was a culmination of everything that happened the past 2 decades all rolled up in one and dont consider it creative or great at all in all honest and one of his weakest efforts as a director.

I enjoy it far more than bebop, bebop wasnt as great as I got older, mostly because I realized that Spike was a loser asshole who basically had an affair with someone else's woman and basically caused a shit storm over selfish ambition and in all honesty, dont consider him cool in the least, but rather, just a complete fucking asshole who thinks he's cool when he won't admit it when in all honesty, he's really the bad guy in all this and all this plot would have been avoided, had he not been such a complete fucking prick (yeah, school teaches you to think very differently.) Dandy on the other hand may be a loser, but he's a loser with a good heart and good ambitions whose kind of like Gintoki, not as good or cool, but he has his own charm which is what makes him great. Dandy is indeed, one of the better works of his career and catalogue and very proud to say that this is something that I'd own in my library on BD for sure. It's tough to give this a 9 or 10 out of 10. I'd say 9.5, but for the sake of rounding off and keeping it simple and as to how much I liked it and trying my best NOT to be biased, I'll just be lazy and keep it simple and say that this series deserves a 10/10 for not just being what I mentioned earlier, but because this series offers alot of variety and diversity like Bakuman did, and you can tell that Watanabe experimented and exercised alot of new things and tried many many things that made this series so great. It's down to earth, kept simple, fun, colorful and enjoyable and definitely one of those realistic satire that did question and bring up things in today's societal issues.

My advice, don't get put off by Boobies which is like Hooters, keep it simple and don't get too deep or complex about it, thats where you go wrong already for critical analysis, keep it simple and say that it also keeps in touch with reality when it comes to human nature and the true nature of the world all around us that the truth is, nobody really knows anything at all in a socially constructed society that we all in this day and age live in consciously and unconsciously. That's what makes it a very great series in general. I'd consider it a family friendly series which is why I give it a 10/10. It's not disgusting, provocatively grotesque and raunchy, but very clean, fun, comical and enjoyable for ALL ages. No matter what culture or where you're from.

10.) Honorable Mention.

OK, I'm getting tired, but this one HAD to be mentioned cuz it's really good and deserves a mention:

Monogatari Series. I had a hard time choosing between this and Eccentric Family. Both are not well known and obscure, but... I decided to give it to Eccentric, because its not as popular, so it was hard to choose between the two.

Based on a currently ongoing and popular Light Novel series, the series follows around young Arrarragi, who basically becomes a half vampire after getting bit by one. What makes this series stick out is the dialogue and relationships he has. There's lots of drama and interaction but done in the intelligent and pretentious way. Not as pretentious as Tatami Galaxy, but you can tell it can be.

It is directed by the same guy who directed the Zetsubou Sensei anime, so you can tell with the slides and screens and timing the series has with it's own unique style and aesthetic. Now, what I really love about this series is the girls he talks to, their curses and the art direction. It's beautiful. I love how articulate and artsy it can be and you can tell its pretentious, but its not annoying or smug about it. It tries to keep it simple, but some characters are alike that. I'm a huge fan of the series, I love how it's progressing and indecisive it can be. Its got its own feel but can be cartoony and you can tell what references they refer to.

I love this series alot, so far, it's got a good 7 or 8 out of 10 from me. I'd definitely like to buy the novels and books if localized, but its definitely one of those honorable mentions that needs to be put out there cuz of how good it is and the staff involved in the project behind it and really enjoy it for what it is. Its good art watch if you want something progressive. It is somewhat progressive but still doesnt top off zetsubou sensei, its kind of the same but more artsy... they're both artsy... but int heir own way and comes later, but in my opinion not as good, but its still good and doesnt lack. I really love the dialogue and interaction in this which is what makes it enjioyable to watch.

And that's it... its alot but I will post more later. I will post a favorite of favorite manga/anime adaptations. It'll be stuff like One Piece, Gintama, Death Note, Bakuman, Rurouni Kenshin, My Hero Academia, D. Gray Man, Assassination Classroom, Hunter x Hunter, FMA, Yuyu Hakusho and Embalming: Another tale of Frankenstein. They're mostly Jump series as you can tell, but I like them alot and enjoy them a great deal and will give my thoughts and opinions of them later on. Thanks all.

#evangelion #flcl #GurrenLagan #Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei #tatami galaxy #Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt #pantyandstocking #eccentric family #kill la kill #Space Dandy

8 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 7 years ago

Text

if you were around for the pre-end-of-mh days you might remember times i like to talk to myself extensively, pointlessly, and dumbassedly about my own thoughts, which go nowhere and solve nothing. literally ignore me, talking about bring me the spider cup, i wanna prank crimmins natcho. my proclivity towards trying to figure out mysteries is matched only by my total inability to do so.

firstly i was like ok, this doesn’t necessarily mean eno knows who this guy is, which i think is true but unlikely. he’s probably met him before and while i think it would be funny if this is all some roundabout unnecessary revenge scheme by someone who considers eno his rival, i’d think it was more likely eno was kind of in a position like wallace where maybe they just worked in the same place. (sidenote: he is so clearly evil how do people share an office with him. please fix this mess jerry)

becoz the thing is it was a bit strange eno said he couldnt take a client via a social workers request with the reasoning that he’d left that life behind him? because he is a therapist now after all. but it would make more sense if he used to maybe be associated with / work for a company like that. i dont even know anything about privatised versions of social work but maybe it could work like that. and maybe he worked with crimcrom because sure, maybe crimmins just murdered his way into head of a company or other unsavory methods, and/or maybe also he has actual experience in the field. because maybe he was working at the same place as eno?

because honestly if i was going to take a very vague guess of where the social work is involved here, its that if youre going to do terrible dangerous medical experiments on people, you take people who have connections without the wealth/time/stability to investigate or else just people who wont be missed at all. people whose debilitating struggles and unstable situations you actually have documentation of. and it does seem like everyone with someone missing was relying on kent and co. to find them, because they couldnt themselves, because their sibling/whomever had been targeted for that exact reason, that their family/friends wouldnt have the means to find them. probably this has been going on for a while and most people are just killed and those who arent are kinda just chucked out somewhere to be found by whoever

anyways, the thing with eno, the idea he was working with/for a company earlier is a bit confusing too because its confusing that kent and yumi were killed but eno wasnt? theres the chance that the attempt simply failed, but i had thought that maybe because eno wasnt the semi-public face of the effort like kent was or an official worker like yumi, maybe nobody who put the hit out knew he was even involved. but since im guessing we’re guessing crimmins was directly/indirectly involved in the Day Of Murder and he knows about eno, thats not true……but then its a bit fuzzier why eno wasnt killed if he wasnt just helping out as a friend but sort of associated with his work, like yumi was. maybe it was part of a longer con, like as might be made clearer soonish. because unfortunately i really doubt crim would show his hand like this if he wasnt secure in everything favoring his schemes currently

it also makes sense that eno had been in a position like yumi’s because im also assuming eno thinks its his own files that someone had got hold of. cuz if yumi and kent had the same papers, surely eno did too. and if he was just keeping them to himself it would be one thing but if he was using them with his work like yumi was, then maybe it happened like he said it did only with his file/company in place of yumi’s. which makes sense coz of why he is so uncomfortable and why he was so surprised about it. probably he didnt suppose it had happened until kip said it did, and he suspects it was on his end that it happened but doesnt want to say it because its unpleasant and because he doesnt want to say it to kip.

i was hoping that gayness would be the wrench in the gears aka kip wasnt supposed to learn of the link between kents files and wallaces, but maybe he actually absolutely was? it would make sense why crimmins was so keen to make sure wallace got kip to work with him. because unless it is remarkably nuanced i doubt part of his plan involves trying to get wallace to directly harm anyone, cuz obvs he wouldnt, he is just motivated to not get fired and hopefully do good work. but it seems like a safe guess that kip would see wallaces papers even though kip really should be getting paid for this, and maybe crimmins was assuming that kip had already seen kents file? because if he had worked with eno and gotten his files, he would basically know what must be in kents files. and it apparently wasnt a secret that the files had made it out of the fire with kip

but its a hell of a con because its like, it seemed like a bonus that kip realized the coincidence, because why would crimmins want kip to suspect that wallace is somehow connected with the scheme that kent was investigating / his family and yumi were killed for? but apparently he could guess that kip would meet with eno about it, because i guess he’s tracking one or both of them. speaking of, im hoping that kip hasnt just gotten jumped. im sure its a concern on the best of days that eno told him to be safe, but it seems ominous

just like it seemed ominous when kip told wallace he trusts eno more than anyone. wallace sure learned a lot in those couple of days, namely: he already knows where kip lives exactly and who with and that they are good friends (not sure how coincidental it is that they live in the exact same building, maybe its just convenient), who kip’s ex-boyfriend is and where he works and who he works with and that he and kip have Strong Feelings for each other, who kip’s therapist is and that he sees him once a week and is a old and close friend whom kip trusts above all others, and i’m sure wallace has been able to pick up that kip has a dead brother and theres a story behind it and its a touchy subject. i mean, that’s mostly completely irrelevant info to put into a report, but maybe not if it was relevant to mention that he was working with kip since after all his boss had told him to. but probably crimmins was guessing that if wallace was making headway at all, he had got hold of kip. and since apparently he has eyes on people, that helps too. fix it jerry

im not thinking that its ominous that kip trusts eno so much because he shouldnt or because eno has been lying all along or something—like, if eno suspects himself for being involved in something now, im supposing he hadnt thought so before or hadnt considered it mattered because everything about how everything happened was moot because nobody was going to be continuing the matter and everyone was leading totally different lives. and as for currently, its not like i think eno is like, having the past catch up with him aka he’s betrayed kip or anyones trust before. i mean maybe eno has some totally unrelated dark secret that can be held over him, but even then i doubt that it would be anything where he would be forced to do something to endanger kip to protect himself. rather, i’d guess he might be given more of a non-choice in which he has to do something that will endanger kip because the threat is of causing kip immediate harm. what seems worst is that crimmins is really showing his hand early here maybe, or anyways, he thinks that theres no possible way for eno to prevent whatever crim wants to have happen. which is like, bad

and if he knows how much kip trusts eno, which he probably does, thats bad too…

if wallaces only purpose though was to show kip the files he had, that also has to mean rousing kip’s suspicion…..also, if kip had known about kents files before he’d seen wallace’s, wouldnt he potentially be immediately suspicious enough of wallace to cut off ties with him? maybe that doesn’t matter idk. b/c tbh it seems like theres only so much you can do w/ wallace while preserving his “unwitting involvement in an evil scheme” status, you cant ask him to do anything non-job related. unless his reports are doubling as surveillance or something. but he wouldnt do anything he thought was harmful or over his bounds. even asking him to get kip involved was weird, but at least crim seemed to accurately count on wallace caring too much abt his job to object with stuff rather than simply doing what he had to to keep it

like, clearly something about kip is important to crim’s schemes but how could i guess what. because im guessing we dont have enough information yet, but even if you gave me the info we have now and told me to fill in the blanks however i wanted, i couldnt come up with anything. im really really dumb as hell and not creative enough to take the ventures required to come up with accurate theories. but ok, medical experiments, it could just be anti-monster, but it could also be pro-human which happens to be anti-monster aka more exploitative. cuz it doesnt seem like theyre “Kill All Monsters” as much as “its fine if monsters die but if theyre alive we’ll just dump them somewhere because we just literally assign them no value unless somehow they’re useful towards whatever’s going on here.”

coz kip has two powers: 1) he’s a beloved semipublic figure, and 2) ice and he’s cold

and he has one majorly exploitable weakness in that he’s very afraid for his surrogate family, generally more scared than the average person of being murdered horribly, and knows he has good reasons for that and also trauma

but it seems like if crim wanted to get hold of kip by threatening his loved ones, he could do that at any time? why would wallace need to be involved at all; he wouldnt. why does he need to tip kip off about his own schemes. why did he need to wait five years? why has there been this five year gap? simply development of the mystery scheme? or is it because kip has moved back to c and/or because kip is a semi-public figure again

coz reading between the lines but im supposing that kip had earnestly and strongly intended to follow in kent’s footsteps but was presumably discouraged from this when his family was murdered. but even tho he only told wallace about moving back to c because roy and molly missed it, in the intervention that gets sprung on him and other hints, it sounds like kip still considers himself dedicated to helping people like kent did, which is what his sjw blog is, but he’s majorly aware of the danger of that and unwilling to get anyone killed this time, which is a major limitation, seeing as that happened to him before and everyone is disappeared all the time w/o repercussion. except the repercussion of one tiny group of people who look into it and get murdered, except for eno

but also kip must not have been doing any Helping The Public stuff before he moved to C, because when he says he has to help wallace to justify having thrown so much away, and considering how he’d lost so much in the fire, presumably what he’s thrown away is his life with pascal. im guessing he couldnt have made roy and molly split from him even if he tried, but pascal apparently could be parted from. for like a week, but whatever. he’d been dating pascal before the fire, but if he hadnt been involved in any position of openly helping monsters before the fire and hadnt before moving back to C, that explains why he tried to convince pascal not to go with them.

anyways, uh, see ive lost track of what i was saying. that, while kip is so afraid for the safety of those too close to him, he can also be pressured into a riskier position. but thats by his friends and himself. but maybe if he’s going to be given false information he thinks is from eno, he could do other risky things too. cuz i doubt theres any real protection, as if kent and yumi and eno werent trying to be safe. im guessing kip’s just trying to keep his head down and his cards close to his chest. its frustrating because technically he was right to be immediately suspicious of wallace to the point of associating him with the death of his family and being afraid of helping wallace, but not because wallace’s personal intentions arent good. but still its going to be really awkward if kip gets an idea of what wallace is associated with. cuz its an extremely delicate process that would allow wallace to figure out what was going on and break the news to kip and have kip trust him, so delicate that i doubt it exists and anyways the odds are not in its favor. but its frustrating because i want people to not be friends and not feel betrayed by their bosses and each other and even better, to be friends working together to resolve murders and an evil scheme

anyways. what does crim need from kip. stuff he knows? i doubt he’s trying to corrupt kip’s blog, or otherwise exploit the fact that kip’s probably a trusted community figure. for starters, crim’s already been getting away completely with abduction, murder, arson, etc, for years. unless theres some new Phase of the plan that requires something new. but again, it seems like a big ol coincidence that kip and co moved to C five months before wallace was moved into their exact building with the goal of getting involved with kip, tho wallace obviously doesnt know about all that stuff yet. why does it matter that kips in C. did crim not know where he was prior? did he need kip to be involved in the public sphere so that he could catch hold of him by sending out a social worker too naive and earnest to focus on the suspicious evilness of his new boss? did he just not need kip yet???

it seems strange to consider that crim could like, blackmail or threaten either kip or eno longterm. like, is he about to make a move here. because yeah they both have reasons to be extremely protective of people, which can be leveraged. but like wallace, i dunno how far they could be pushed with doing anything obviously harmful, or doing anything for anyone so obviously evilly motivated. or how long such a chokehold could be maintained. eno being threatened with kip’s wellbeing and being pressured into manipulating kip in one way or another is one thing, and even then how could he be threatened more than once. how could he be expected not to do something to warn someone if the pressing is let up for even a moment? is the point to abduct eno maybe and make kip feel even more afraid, because that would probably admittedly be super effective, but i imagine kip would just withdraw completely from things like being involved with wallace, blogging, etc. but to try to coerce kip into doing something by threatening multiple people is trickier, and what could kip do?

the thing is that i could see kip as being targeted for the ice thing, because thats another coincidence, that he has a really strong ability that seems pretty unusual even for monsters. like, freezing freshly brewed hot tea in a few seconds is really something. and i’m supposing he survived the fire by freezing himself / ice protection, which is really really something. and maybe the fact that he’s also an sjw who’s always scared that someones going to get hurt or killed is just a way to get to him. coz maybe, even probably, kip wasnt supposed to survive the fire, but just be another casualty because crim and co do not give a shit about bothering to spare any monsters life. but the fact that he did, using ice, and that he had his brothers files, all probably wasnt a secret. i mean, the surviving and the files part definitely wasnt, but just knowing the place was on fire and he survived ok probs implies that he had the ability to protect himself somehow, and thats a really impressive ability

so like maybe whatever traits theyre looking for makes kip the ideal target. maybe for once they felt like they couldnt just steal him away normally, but idk why they wouldnt. for example if crim just wanted to kidnap kip, maybe he just has. but that seems like wallace wouldnt need to be involved and eno wouldnt need to be involved and why wait til he’s in C? he doesnt need flushing out to be stolen off the street; he travels to B at least once a week on a schedule and he walks to work.

again, probably theres necessary info we dont even have that will fill in a missing piece here, but even now im too stupid to expand on the stuff we know to imagine up something that would fill in that blank. im too horrible at reading/understanding peoples motivations to even fully Get basic interactions sometimes, and im too uncreative to even come up with stuff like say, guess what crim’s trying to develop over there. maybe theres something about moving from development to initiation that needs kip’s particular involvement (??how??). but why has there been five years of them having been left alone in D, maybe, although how do we even know that

idk all i know is im stupid and i dont like that everyone is going to be even more miserable and endangered and mysteries are a trial for me because i want to die and dont want to have to deal with dying on a cliffhanger, i’ll be an angry ghost. ive probably forgotten a tangent or two i wanted to touch on and that makes me an angry pre-ghost. w/e

0 notes