#this is why he always comes back from outdoor excursions with new cuts on his nose

[ashfdhfgdsfk]

there is nothing hiding in this bush. he saw a lizard run into it and failed to notice as it immediately ran right back out. bc hes an idiot

[writing-in-april]

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Gordon Tracy, John Tracy, Lucille Tracy, Scott Tracy, Virgil Tracy, Alan Tracy Additional Tags: Humor, natural history museum, Child Tracys Series: Part 3 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Gordon can handle all manner of sea creatures. But lizards? That’s a whole other ball game. Sometimes, you have your brothers to thank for your fears.

I have a few things that I just want to get out of the way. I know that there is some question of whether Virgil or John is the second child of the Tracys based on a couple of different sources. I know that the most widely accepted birth order puts Virgil before John. For the purpose of this story, I have written John as the second oldest, meaning the birth order will look like Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon, Alan. Based on the dates for the boys that I was able to find regarding ages, I’m looking at an 11 year gap between Scott and Alan. I’m looking at Scott as 16, John as 13, Virgil as 11, Gordon as 8, and Alan as 5 years old. Prompt requested by @misssquidtracy​ for @badthingshappenbingo​

----

Lucille Tracy was an excellent mother. Everyone knew it. Everyone except Lucille Tracy herself. The other families in the small Kansas town where they lived knew that she had her hands full with five boys, especially with their father deployed by NASA for much of the year, if not a year or more at a time. Lucille ran a tight ship, and there were never any complaints about her young boys from those around the town.

The boys often spent time on their mother’s family ranch at Gran Roca, but more often than not on the hot summer days where the weather was too oppressive for riding or running or any other manner of outdoor play, Lucille could be seen with her brood in tow headed toward some kind of educational opportunity. Lucille wanted to make sure that her boys were never letting their brains rot over the summer by spending too long in front of the TV or playing too many video games, and so once a week, the boys could be seen spread out across the library. Each boy had their own library card, with the exception of the youngest, who wasn’t yet old enough for his own. The boys were expected to bring home at least one book on their weekly trip to the library, and John was often seen lugging home a number of them in the messenger bag his mother had given him.

In addition to the weekly library trips, there was also a weekly excursion as a family. Some weekends it was to the zoo, because little Alan loved to go and watch the animals. Sometimes it was to the aquarium so little Gordon could watch the fish and the sharks with wonder in his eyes. Sometimes it was to the art museum so Virgil could spend an afternoon practicing his painting skills by copying the masters in the museums. Sometimes it was to the planetarium to sate John’s curiosity about everything in space. Sometimes it was to a sports hall of fame to satisfy the desire for everything adrenaline for Scott. And sometimes….well….sometimes it was to the natural history museum because that was what Lucille enjoyed most.

So when the young family found themselves together at the Natural History Museum, it was just another family field trip. Lucille flashed the membership pass at the admissions desk and they smiled and waved her along. They were well known and beloved by most of the staff, as the boys were usually well behaved, and everyone that had been around for the “diorama incident” with Virgil and Gordon a few years ago had either left or completely forgiven the young boys.

Alan began to fuss, having not been cooperative for his nap before coming to the museum and Lucille knelt down to try to figure why Alan was upset. John walked over to the map of the museum, regardless of the fact that most of them knew the layout by heart, having spent so many summers in and out of the museum. Scott and Virgil joined him at the map.

“Think they’ve got that new exhibit on flight up?” Scott asked, not wanting to sound too excited. A young man just entering high school couldn’t be seen to be too excited about an educational trip, after all.

“I doubt it,” John said softly as he looked over the map. “They were saying that it was going in sometime late this year. I imagine it will be up in the fall.” Scott frowned, but John didn’t seem to take any notice.

“Well, last time we came we spent a lot of time in the geological area for Alan,” Scott said. The youngest had loved playing with the little rock samples that they had out for the children to touch and had cried loudly when they tried to pull him away.

“There’s always the hall of biome dioramas,” Virgil offered. He’d taken to bringing his sketchbook to practice sketching the dioramas. Every time he came, he improved just a little bit more, though he did notice that security kept their eye on him after the ‘incident’ with Gordon a few years ago.

“But they never change!” Scott protested. “It’s the same old lion jumping on its prey and the same polar bear who is never going to catch the fish.”

“They’re museum exhibits, Scott,” John said. “Sometimes the big dioramas like that don’t change.”

“They’re museum exhibits, John,” he said in the same bored and tired tone. “They’re old and stuffy and full of things that people don’t care about anymore.”

“Some people care about them,” John said. “Their traveling planetarium show was pretty incredible.” Scott rolled his eyes, ruffling John’s hair and earning him an indignant squawk from the red-head. “Hey!”

“You’re such a nerd,” Scott said, nothing but love and affection in his voice. John gave him a glare as he fixed his hair.

“I’m aware,” John said dryly. “Look, you don’t have to stick around and follow me. We can all appreciate different areas. Most of us are old enough to not be tied to someone’s apron strings.”

“What about Gordon?” Virgil asked, looking to the sandy haired blond who was currently making faces at their youngest brother to help him stop fussing. “I want to go to the dioramas and the security people don’t like it when he’s in there.”

“I’m thinking about going to see the bee exhibit,” Scott said. “You know, with the live hive? I don’t think it’s a good idea to put Gordon anywhere near a live beehive.” John rolled his eyes.

“You two are such babies. The diorama incident was a one time thing and I think Gordon has enough sense to know not to go anywhere near where there are live bees,” John said. “Our brother can’t get in that much trouble.” Scott and Virgil exchanged a look and a knowing smile.

“Alright then, John, you watch him for the afternoon,” Virgil said. John opened his mouth to protest, but realized that he had walked himself right into that. He let out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah, ok. I’ve got him,” he said. “Maybe I’ll go take him to see the dinosaurs.” Scott grinned, happy enough to be relieved of babysitting duty. He gave Virgil a high five before they wandered off in the direction of their respective favorite exhibits. John took a deep breath and then made his way over to his mother and little brothers.

“Hey Gordon, you want to go look at some dinosaurs with me?” John asked, smiling and holding out a hand to entreat the young one. Gordon grinned and jumped down off the bench where he was sitting next to his mother, running over and taking big brother’s hand. Lucille offered John a grateful smile which John returned.

With a quick wave back to Lucille, John led Gordon through the crowd of people heading into the various exhibit halls. Gordon raced forward as they approached the wing with the dinosaur displays, tugging John behind him.

“C’mon John! You have to tell me everything about all of them!” Gordon said excitedly. John smiled at Gordon’s eagerness. His curiosity sometimes got the better of him, but John was happy to still see wonder in his younger brother’s eyes. As they entered the exhibit hall, John had to maneuver Gordon around a team of workmen were doing some needed maintenance around one of the dinosaur skeletons.

“Did you know that the word dinosaur comes from Greek meaning ‘terrible lizard?’” John asked. Gordon’s amber eyes went wide and he shook his head.

“But we don’t have to worry about them, right?” Gordon said.

“That’s right,” John said. “They died out a very long time ago.” Gordon grinned, running up to one of the skeletal figures and pointing at it eagerly. “John! John, what’s this one?” John walked up to it and looked at the placard detailing information about the skeleton.

“According to the sign here, this skeleton is a full-scale replica of a niobrarasaurus. It says here that it was an armored dinosaur from the late Cretaceous period with thick plating and a tiny head,” John said. Admittedly, dinosaurs weren’t really his thing, but his younger brothers seemed to think that John had all the answers in his head. Gordon nodded and then turned to look at another skeleton, cutting across the walkway and nearly tripping up a couple who were wandering the museum as well. “Gordon! Careful!”

“Sorry!” Gordon said, his enthusiasm for learning making the couple smile and laugh good-naturedly before they moved on to another exhibit. “This one looks like it’s got a duckbill. What’s this one called?” John moved over and looked at that sign as well.

“Looks like this one is a claosaurus,” John said. “This one is also from the late Cretaceous period.” John looked like he was going to read more from the placard but Gordon had already moved on to another fossil. John let out a sigh.

“Gordon, slow down,” John said. He could see why Virgil and Scott had foisted the responsibility of watching over Gordon onto John. You didn’t actually get to see the museum with him. Gordon paid little heed to his brother’s chiding and continue to bounce from display to display.

“Ooooh! This one has big, sharp teeth!” Gordon said. John nodded.

“Yep. It means that this guy probably ate meat primarily,” he said. Gordon frowned.

“Lizards eat meat?”

“Some of them do,” he said. “But again, you don’t have to worry about lizards this big anymore. They went extinct millions of years ago and most of the lizards that are around today are too small to take a bite out of you.”

“Most?” John ruffled Gordon’s hair, earning a squawk of indignance.

“Don’t worry about it, squiddo,” he said.

They had gone through nearly every display in the exhibit hall when John started to herd Gordon back towards the lobby where they were going to meet the rest of their family to figure out lunch. Gordon skipped forward, rushing forward to take one last look at some of the skeletons before they left. John rolled his eyes and followed more sedately.

“Gordon! Be careful! Wait for me!” John said. Gordon paid little attention, turning around to stick his tongue out at his brother. John gave him a look before his eyes went wide. “Gordon!”

“Wha-OW!” Gordon said as his tiny body connected with the ladder on which the maintenance man was standing. There was a panicked cry as the ladder began to teeter dangerously. “Uh-oh….”

John was frozen in place and time seemed to slow down as the man began to fall. The man’s arms flailed, grabbing for anything that would stop him from plummeting from his previous perch. His hands found purchase on the dinosaur skeleton that he had been working next to.

His arms wrapped around the neck of the dinosaur, the display wobbling dangerously as the man scrambled for purchase. Several of the adults moved to get the ladder to a position where the man could regain his footing. Gordon began to back away slowly, his eyes wide with the situation currently unfolding in front of him. The well-meaning bystanders were able to get the ladder underneath the struggling man, who released the display as he regained his footing.

There was a terrible creak and groan as the display began to shudder and tremble. John felt his body moving in slow motion as he saw the dinosaur skull begin to give way from the display. He tried to move forward, tried to grab Gordon out of the way. Gordon remained rooted to the spot as the giant skull above him opened its gaping mouth wide and began to descend in his direction. He hunched into a ball and there was a great clatter as the whole display came crashing down around Gordon.

John stopped where he was, his heart skipping several beats as security and museum professionals began to make their way to the scene of the accident. John rushed forward, only to be stopped by a security person.

“That’s my brother!” John insisted.

“It’s ok...we’re going to make sure he’s safe…” he said. John looked uncertain. What was he going to tell their mother? How could he look her in the face when she had trusted Gordon to him and he had let this happen. His mind began to spin with all of the terrible thoughts of a child who knew that this would be the end of their parents’ love.

The museum professionals began to move the pieces of the skeleton and there was a soft murmur of relief when inside the mouth of the skeleton, Gordon was hunched into a ball, shaking irrepressibly but miraculously unharmed. They began to move the pieces of the exhibit around and the security guard pulled Gordon from his hiding spot.

“You’re one very lucky little boy,” the security guard said as he scooped Gordon up onto his hip to bring him over to John, whose heart was skipping beats in relief as his little brother was returned safe to him.

Lucille came around the corner and saw Gordon nearing tears in John’s arms. She moved over to them quickly, Virgil following close behind her. Scott stood away from the event with Alan on his hip, though it did nothing to hide the worry on his features. Lucille fussed over Gordon and pulled him into her arms, relieved that he was ok.

Lucille began to pack up the boys as the museum began to apologize profusely to her. She waved off their apologies, wanting to get her boys home where she could hold them and make sure they were truly safe. She pulled Gordon against her side and began to usher him out, John under her other arm. Virgil looked down at his younger brother and he gave him a calming smile.

“You know what I think, Squid?” he asked. Gordon looked at Virgil questioningly, his amber eyes brimming with tears. “I think you just became the coolest kid in school.”

“I did?” Gordon asked with a sniffle. Virgil nodded.

“You betcha,” he said. “I mean, it’s not every kid that can say they survived being bitten by a dinosaur, right?” Virgil asked. Gordon took a moment to consider the question, then a small smile broke out on his features.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right Virgil. I am pretty cool, huh?”

[justfandomwritings]

Urban Legends (Part Three - Chris Beck)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k words

Warnings: none

Summary: (Y/n) Watney was something of an urban legend at NASA. Commander of the Ares I mission, (Y/n) was the first human to set foot on another planet. She heard names like Neil Armstrong and smirked. She was on her way to being the most famous astronaut in history, and she was determined to bring her brother along for the ride. She recommended Mark to Vincent Kapoor. She helped him get on the Ares III mission to Mars.

Her brother was stuck on Mars because of her, and she was determined to bring him home. 

After all, if he was the first human to die on another planet that would thoroughly steal her thunder; and she couldn’t have that.

Notes: sorry this took a minute. 

Start From the Beginning With… Part One

Previously On... Part Two

There were a great many urban legends about ghosts, and (Y/n) knew them all. 

When she and Mark were still very young, they would go camping all the time with their parents. Donna and Barry Watney encouraged their children to be active and resourceful and would often drag the pair out to various national parks or rural regions of the country to try their hand in the great outdoors, an exploration-themed pastime they would take to the extreme later in life.

While they eventually found a love for it that took them out of this world, neither was particularly persuaded by the initial proposition. The two kids were only convinced to come along on their parents’ excursions because their parents always brought a telescope, and they took turns, away from the city lights, to look at the stars. 

They had contests to see who could name more of them, and their dad officiated the score. (Y/n) knew now that her dad had never taken an astronomy class, and thinking back on it she was pretty sure he just took it in turns to say which of them won the game that trip without any real thought. Not that she was complaining, she’d won the last time they all went camping together when she was fifteen, so as far as she was concerned she was the reigning champion forever.

(Y/n) and Mark made competitions of everything. If there was something to be done than there was something to be won. One of them would get a higher grade on the test. One of them would read more books. One of them would win their chess game. Hell, one of them would take out the garbage faster. No matter how obvious, no matter how suited, no matter how mundane, everything was a challenge to be won. Theirs was not a rivalry restricted to games. 

They were each other’s greatest foes, but also each other’s greatest fans.

Outside of House Watney, it was Mark and (Y/n) against the world. They could beat each other all they wanted, but the minute one of them lost to some outside force the other appeared, as if out of thin air. (Y/n) managed to figure out the password for a teacher’s computer and changed the scores at the science fair so her brother could beat Jason Richter for the first place prize. Mark once hiked four miles roundtrip, through woods in the dead of night, from his cabin at the boys’ summer camp to his sisters’ girls’ summer camp cabin on the other side of the park just to deliver (Y/n) his superior calculator to win a meaningless, trophyless math tournament.

Of course, no win was meaningless to the Watney siblings, especially not over each other. There was always a lot at stake. Bragging rights were always up for grabs, and teasing was incessant for the loser. 

On their camping trips, the competitive streak extended far beyond the telescope. Out in the wilderness, far away from books and internet, the pair would sit around a campfire seeing who could tell the scarier story.

They started out judging the competition on how scared the other person looked, but that had only led to arguments about who had more goosebumps or who’s eyes scanned the woods more often. Arguments made significantly worse by the fact that Mark was a much, much better actor than (Y/n), and therefore much better at hiding his fear. At their mother’s suggestion, they had turned to counting how much sleep the other person lost.

An ingenious suggestion on their mother’s part that (Y/n) would look on years later as an A+ parenting strategy. To begin, they both wanted to go to bed early, whether they were tired or not, so they could say they got more sleep than the other. Plus, sharing a tent, they couldn’t call the other person out on being awake without proving they were awake themselves, leading to many silent and peaceful nights in the campground. 

It took truly terrifying tales to get either of the Watney children to flinch in their pretense of sleep, and Mark had eventually, after years of stories, won the game with a ghost story he made up himself set in their very camp. 

(Y/n) remembered the moment she peaked out between her eyelids and saw her brother dozing. Clearly, genuinely asleep. 

It pained her to admit she was freaked out by his story, but she finally shook him awake and confessed.

“I don’t know where you heard about that girl or if it’s true, but I can’t sleep.” 

Mark had sympathetically patted the space next to him in his sleeping bag, and (Y/n) curled into her brother for protection. “Don’t worry, (Y/n),” he soothed. “It’s just an urban legend.”

He let her have her moment of weakness that night, but in the morning the victory dance was unbearable.

(Y/n) felt as though she was the one living the ghost story. Only this time, Mark wasn’t there to comfort her. He was the ghost. Her every waking moment was haunted and plagued by thoughts of him. 

When she woke up, she saw him sitting on the couch of her hotel room. When she got out of the shower, he was watching the tv she’d forgotten to turn off. When she got in her car, he was in the passenger seat. 

In a way, it was better that he was alive. Because of course, it was; she wanted nothing more than for him to be alive. In another way, it was worse. He was dead on Mars no matter what; it would’ve been less painful if the antenna did him in. 

Her eyes stared unseeing at the news playing over the cafe’s television as her mind counted down. 

Two and a half minutes left.

The tv had been on ESPN when she walked in, but a quiet word from (Y/n) to the woman behind the register had seen the channel changed, much to the disappointment of a group of men in suits sitting at the counter. 

One had even turned to complain to her about ruining their SportsCenter lunchbreak, but he quickly shut up when he caught sight of who he was about to confront. 

“My condolences, Commander Watney,” the man turned back to the counter and didn’t look back at her booth again. 

His friends all glanced surreptitiously over their shoulders at her throughout their meal, but she was used to it. Not the pity in their eyes, that was a new addition. 

Being watched had become a part of her every day life on Earth. It was part of why (Y/n) was so eager to go back to space. In space, the only eyes were her crew and the stars. 

Today though, it was oddly comforting. They were voyeurs more than anything. (Y/n) knew they only cared to a degree, but it was a degree more than her hotel pillow was capable of caring. 

(Y/n) spent most of her time in Florida working at Launch Control or doing promotional press and the rest of her time in D.C. campaigning for NASA funding. She had an apartment not far from the Kennedy Space Center and a best friend who lived just inside the Maryland state line. 

The last time she’d spent any real time in Houston had been as an AsCan, when NASA put her up in a dorm with other potential candidates. Since training ended, (Y/n) had only really visited Texas for a meeting here or there. 

The only people she knew in Texas worked in the upper echelon of NASA, and after the news they’d dropped on her, spending time crying on their shoulder was about the last thing (Y/n) wanted to do.

The press conference was slated to start any moment. (Y/n) desperately needed someone to care, but she’d rather take the passive curiosity of strangers than Annie Montrose’s calculating eye or Mitch Henderson’s guilt ridden conscience. 

Somewhere in her mind, (Y/n) registered as the news clicked over to NASA, and the man who’d offered his sympathy began to order the waitress to turn it off. 

“No,” (Y/n) called just loud enough to be heard. “It’s important.” 

The waitress leaned back against the counter to watch, and it seemed, as if drawn by some unknown magnetism to her pain every other patron in the room quieted down enough to hear the words. 

“We’re now joining the press conference live where NASA’s Chief Director, Teddy Sanders, has an announcement.” 

The newscaster spoke over Teddy introducing himself as the director mouthed an introduction only heard by those in the room. 

The volume cut to NASA just in time to hear, “There’s no easy way to put this. Mark Watney is alive.”

The silence was deafening for a long beat before the world around her exploded. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first call was from an old school friend. 

Jenny has been watching the news when it was announced, and she’d called right away. Naively, worried that (Y/n) didn’t know she hadn’t wanted her to hear from a stranger. 

Calls two through six had come in while she was on the phone with Jenny.

(Y/n) didn’t return any of them.

She answered call number fourteen, ten minutes later. It was her favorite professor, Dr. Armstrong, a name which had an irony that was not lost on (Y/n). He was the head of the Computer Science department during her undergraduate degree, and he’d had her back once every semester to speak to classes about all the places their degree could take them. Needless to say, his classes featuring her were very popular.

Call fifteen through twenty came in the twenty minutes they were talking. Dr. Armstrong hadn’t asked her how she was doing. He probed at what was happening and if anything could be done to help. 

Call twenty-three had been her neighbor in Florida. Maria Ramirez was the opposite, desperately worried about whether or not (Y/n) was okay.

Those were the only calls (Y/n) answered on Day One. After telling Maria for the millionth time that she would survive the night, (Y/n) had hung up to another twelve missed calls. 

“I want to marry whoever invented the do not disturb button,” (Y/n) grumbled, pressing the cresent moon and tossing her phone into the corner of the room to leave her undisturbed for the rest of the day.

She answered the first call on Day Two. In large part because (Y/n) didn’t know who it was.

“This is (Y/n).” She said, catching the phone between her shoulder and ear.

“(Y/n)?” It wasn’t exactly a question, but the hesitation in the voice made it sound like one. “Th-This is Amy Beck.”

(Y/n) had only met Dr. Beck once, on the launch pad before he piled in to be launched into orbit with her brother. Their entire exchange had been “Good luck, Dr. Beck.” and “Thank you, Commander Watney.”, so they hadn’t really had time to get into personal matters like exchanging sibling contact information.

“I-I got your number from Mitch Henderson.”

“Well that explains a lot,” (Y/n) grumbled, not really bothering to hide her displeasure from the woman on the other end of the line. “What can I do for you?”

“I was actually hoping we could talk… In person?” Amy hedged.

(Y/n) sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. A wife of one of the Ares II crew had hung her up for nearly six hours asking all kinds of questions about what her husband was going through on the trip to Mars, and she really was in no mood to go through that again. “Unfortunately, I’m in Houston at the moment…”

“I know,” Amy cut in quickly. “I live in Houston, myself. I was hoping we could meet for coffee? Only quickly, it would have to be for my lunch break.”

Now that was a time constraint (Y/n) could reasonably see to.

“All right. Tell me when and where.”

“Any day you like, around 1 oclock, at Al Vetros? It’s near my work.” 

“Tomorrow then.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what is it you wanted to talk about? I regret to inform you that a lunch break isn’t long enough to explain how the engine aboard the Hermes functions.” 

A quick browse through Facebook had shown (Y/n) Amy’s picture, though admittedly nothing else with the woman’s stringent privacy settings. It gave (Y/n) complete confidence when she walked in that she’d spotted the right woman at the two seater by the window, plopping down into the seat opposite to begin without hesitation.

“No, no,” Amy, somewhat befuddled by (Y/n)’s abruptness, quickly responded, “I don’t think there’s any hope in me understanding any of that. I never liked physics. Or the stars for that matter, I don’t have any ambition to go into a vacuum where a piece of glass is all that stands between me and death.” 

“Then what did you want me to help you with?” (Y/n)’s eyebrows creased together.

“I was hoping I might be the one to help you.” Amy leaned forward with her elbows on the table, not quite whispering but certainly speaking low enough to avoid any eavesdroppers, “Mitch called and told me all about Mark before it hit the news. I figured you wouldn’t want to leave Houston while NASA was monitoring him.”

“You figured right.” (Y/n) heaved a sigh, “The Holiday Inn staff have been overly kind to me given the circumstances.”

Amy dug around in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a key ring. “Yes, Mitch mentioned. I thought you might want something a little more homey, and a little less expensive than a long-term stay in a hotel.”

(Y/n) eyed the key but made no move to grab it. “I can’t take that.”

“And why not?” Amy set the key on the table and slid it across to the space in front of (Y/n). “I like to think you would accomodate me if my brother was trapped on Mars, and I have a spare room so it’s really no inconvenience.”

(Y/n) fingered the jagged edge of the key with a thoughtful hand. Amy didn’t know what she was saying. (Y/n) really, really couldn’t accept this. “I don’t think you understand what you’re offering here. My brother had 50 days worth of rations for his whole crew. Assuming he does absolutely nothing to extend or improve his food supply, worst case scenario sees my brother dying in a year. My best case scenario, Mark manages to extend or add to his food supply and by some miracle we get him back in a few years when Ares IV goes to Mars.”

Amy pretended to think it over, but (Y/n) could tell the woman was just humoring her. “Yep,” Amy gave a lazy smile. “Still haven’t changed my mind.”

“I’m not leaving Houston till he dies or comes back alive. That’s anywhere from 300 days to 5 years from now.” 

“Yep.” Amy popped the last ‘p’ letter, then leaned forward and pushed the key into (Y/n)’s palm. “I hope you don’t mind the sound of violin music. I don’t play or anything; I just really like watching Sherlock.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Time on... Part Four

Taglist: 

Forever Taglist:

@maybe-a-fangurl / @libbymouse / @geeksareunique / @deathbyarabbit​ / @spilltheearlgrey / @ryanbarnesrogers / 

Series Taglist:

@multifandombabelover​ / @cutiepiemimi13​ / @captainscanadian​ / @harishaanne​ / @andtheytoldustotellyouhello / @diabla-seis66 / @thebestofoneshots​ / @harishaanne​ / 

[shiinonomee]

And Eat it, too

She’s not the only one who can give gifts.

Word Count: ~1100

OC Centric, 3rd POV, Code Vein Fic

It had started with her feeling bad that Io is always stuck at base when she leaves with Yakumo or one of the others. Rhodey would keep her eyes peeled for interesting little trinkets wherever they went. She’d noticed the small collection Io had of oddities and trinkets and wanted to help add to it.

Their travels usually stuck to the main roads, outdoor areas and the like; but every so often they’d come across buildings that hadn’t completely caved in on themselves and cars that, despite being totaled to hell, still had some surviving cargo inside waiting to be claimed by a new owner.

Io isn’t much of a drinker, though, and for some reason, Rhodey wouldn’t have felt right about giving her a whole bottle of brandy even if she had been. And when she’d seen the way Yakumo’s eyes had lit up like two little green spotlights when she’d offered the one she’d found to him, instead, her heart had skipped so many beats she had been worried it had stopped for good.

That was when she had decided that she would look for anything anyone back home might like.

She had never even thought about getting things back, though. Not until Louis had awkwardly handed her a book while they’d been lounging on the couch one day—mentioning how it was one of his favorites and that he thought she might enjoy it.

It had caught her so off guard that sometimes her eyes would start stinging if she thought about it for too long. The first gift she could remember ever receiving.

She found thinking of things in that light made the edges of her memory loss seem less sharp. It still hurt to be a shell of who she once was, but being able to experience so many things for the first time again...it was a sweet turn of fate.

“Let’s rest up for a minute—I wanna talk to you.”

Rhodey had been leading on for a good amount of time, now. Lost activity in this area had waned for a bit, but even with a lack of combat walking got tiring if one did it long enough.

She’s not surprised that when they pass the mistle she’d activated during their first excursion here, Yakumo calls for a break.

“What did you need? Is something the matter?”

When they’re finally off their feet, crowded around the mistle like it’s a campfire, she lets her curiosity get the better of her.

“Huh? Nah, nothin’ so serious.” Yakumo gives a sheepish grin, scratching at his jaw with a finger. “Did I worry you? Sorry. Seems like it’s going to be a slow day, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take it easy for a bit.”

“It’s good to pace ourselves when we have the luxury.” She agrees with a nod. “It seems that we’re so often on a time crunch...this is nice.”

“Right! It wouldn’t feel right to bother you with this while we were grinding through hordes of enemies or something...”

“You don’t bother me, Yakumo.”

He quirks his lips up at her. “Appreciate it.” He says sincerely. “Anyway, I have something for you.”

At this, she perks up. “You do?”

She looks down as he sets something in her lap. It looks like a loaf of bread—but it’s softer and smells faintly of alcohol. Her stomach rumbles involuntarily.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it, but...it just felt like I should do something for you. You’ve been working so hard for our sakes, and I...we all are really happy you’re with us.”

“Did you make this?” She asks, wide-eyed. He laughs heartily.

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Can I try some, now?!”

He seems not to have expected her to be so excited—his cheeks flush the slightest bit as he blinks owlishly at her. He recovers enough to say, “Uh, y-yeah, why not?”

She claps her hands, cheering perhaps a little childishly before she carefully tears off a piece near the corner. It works well enough—they don’t have any knives with them and she wouldn’t want to use a sword she cuts down enemies with on her food. She pops it into her mouth—the sweetness of the pound cake and smokiness of the alcohol go surprisingly well together. She bounces excitedly.

“Mmm, this is amazing! When I realized I’d be feeding off of blood beads to survive from now on I was sooo worried it would mean I’d never be able to have sweets again! This was so nice of you, thank you so much!”

When she meets his eyes again she’s surprised at the rather nostalgic look on his face. He’s smiling, but at the same time, he seems only half there with her.

“I guess food really is the way to some people’s hearts, huh?” He muses softly with a wistful chuckle. “If you really like it that much, I’ll make it for you again sometime.”

And just like that, he’s back to his regular self.

“C’mere, c’mere, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing by myself—have some with me!” Her wide, beaming smile is contagious—he finds himself grinning along as he moves closer to her side. They spend a long time just sitting there, sharing cake and laughs.

Every time she gushes about how good it is he gets a warm feeling in his chest. He’s happy she likes it and happier he gave it to her.

Something about the first night they’d shared drinks together under the stars has been sticking with him. She’d looked so sad, then—mourning the loss of herself while simultaneously hoping she never came back to claim the life she’d made for herself, now. He’d glimpsed those confusing, conflicting feelings within her before, but only briefly.

He hadn’t known until then how much it really ate at her.

So yeah—this gift had been out of gratitude, but there was another reason. And ulterior motive.

He’d wanted to see her smile again. A real smile. Even if it was only a little, only for a short while, he wanted her to think of something else—something that made her happy. He had a box of things tucked away that she’d given him, things she’d gathered on the road like a packrat, and it was what had sparked in him the idea to make something that he could give back.

He looks at her radiant face now and knows that he made the right decision.

It...reminds him of someone.

Someone from what seems like another life.

He smiles, shakes the past off, and hooks an arm around the back of Rhodey’s neck.

[jiminscaramel]

at bay | mark [nct] | 02

[GENRE] fluff & angst

[COUNT] 2.6k

[PAIRING] fem holiday-rep!reader x holiday-rep!mark

[WARNINGS] not proofread

[AU] holiday representative au (is that a thing?)

⬸ 01 | 02

The next day is a scorcher, temperatures soaring and settling into the high forty’s, but it’s not enough to stop the horde of adults, in tow with their kids, from getting their desired holiday tan. You usually find pool duty the most insufferable job but not for the reasons some might think.

Lucas is at the head of the pool, throwing in beach balls and pool noodles at the kids and just generally making a fool of himself to keep them entertained. You roll your eyes but smile, because if you admired anything about that boy it was his ability to capture and hold anyone’s attention. He waves at you to join him but you pretend you can’t see, your sunglasses hiding where your gaze truly lies.

He’s usually a nightmare to get along with and you dread any shift you have to work together, but he’s been suspiciously kind today, saving his clownery for the intended audience.

“I knew I’d find you slacking off here,” you hear a voice chuckle behind you and swivel on your heel to find Mark smirking, clipboard in hand.

“I’m not slacking off,” you fire back, straightening your posture and trying to look alert. “It’s just hot. I needed a break.”

“Sure,” Mark laughs, sidling up beside you. “I’ve been meaning to ask you–”

Lucas turns up the volume on the outdoor speakers, gaining a cheer from the kids. He starts dancing a routine and encourages them to follow suit in the pool.

“What is he doing?” You whisper in exasperation. You shake your head and divert your attention back to Mark. “Sorry, you were saying?”

His cheeks flush and the tips of his ears turn bright red as he works up the courage to get the words off of his tongue. “Uh, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out next week?”

“Next week?” You ask surprised, expecting him to have wanted to hang out today. You push your glasses up to sit atop your head and wait for him to continue.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight nervously to the other foot. “Yeah, it’s, uh– it’s my birthday next week. I figured we could just hang out or go for a drink or something. I mean– only if you want to, I just thought it would be a nice idea–”

You bite back a laugh at his shifty behaviour, his nerves allowing him to babble on. Mark was always, without fail, confident with his customers. He could sell an excursion to almost anyone, sweet talk even the most difficult customers into anything and it’s what made him excellent at his job. But around you, his confidence was almost non-existent. His confidence completely depletes and leaves him a jittery, nervous wreck.

But it’s sweet, you think, cocking your head to the side and observing him with curious eyes. You’d never let him, or anyone else for that matter, ever know that you feel exactly the same way. Something about him crumples your self-confidence and turns your insides into mush.

“Sure,” you reply with a simple shrug of the shoulders in an effort to hide your own nerves. “I gotta check the rota but it sounds great.” You smile at him and watch as his eyes light up in response.

“Thanks–”

You hear Lucas shout your name from across the pool, his voice getting louder and louder as he approaches. In the short space of time your attention had been focused on Mark, Lucas had somehow managed to shed his shirt. “The kids wanna see you dance.”

“The kids do, or you do?” You quip, folding your arms, a wry smile playing on your lips. “And do you ever keep your shirt on for longer than five minutes?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, come on. There’s only so much I can do up there on my own. You could come and help me out instead of flirting back here.” He pouts playfully.

“I’m not flirting, I’m taking a break. Mark can help.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Lucas cuts in first. “Mark’s not on pool duty. Nice try though.” He roughly slips his hand in yours and pulls you along after him, leaving you no choice but to cut your break short.

“Next week, yeah?” You call over your shoulder at Mark.

“Next week!”

Mark can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy echo in his chest as he watches Lucas lead you away, hand tucked so brazenly in yours, without a care in the world. He figures it’s a long shot, asking you out on a date under the guise of a few birthday drinks but there’s no harm in trying, right? Besides, he sees the way you look at Lucas and something in him sours as he realises you don’t look at him with the same kind of sparkle in your eye.

Lucas twirls you around at the head of the pool, pulling you flush against him before spinning you around again. It could just be his imagination, his envy clouding his judgement, but he sees sparks fly when you meet Lucas’ eyes.

Mark second guesses himself and silently wonders why he should bother. Sure it was always going to be a long shot, but just how far is he willing to shoot?

“Hey shit-head, can you do me a favour?” You march onto the villa patio with your head buried in a sheet of paper; the all important rota.

“With that kind of attitude? Absolutely not.” Lucas mumbles around a mouthful of food. He chases it down with a swig of orange juice before continuing. “What do you need?”

“Can you swap days with me next week? I got something planned on Thursday but I’m scheduled in for a busy day.”

“So?”

“So,” you roll your eyes for nth time already that day. “How about you take the day off tomorrow and I work that shift for you and in return, you work my Thursday shift? Deal?”

Lucas pretends to think long and hard. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?” His eyes twinkle with mischief and the corners of his mouth twitch up in a devilish smirk.

“Nothing.” You deadpan. “You get your day off earlier than usual. That’s it.”

He stands and stretches. “I don’t know...”

“Really?”

Sensing your growing levels of frustration he laughs it off. “I’m kidding. Sure, whatever. I’ll work your Thursday.”

You punch the air in victory, a genuine smile breaking out. “Thank you!” You lean in to give him a quick hug, pecking his cheek as he ducks low. He laughs in surprise and shakes his head as you run off, excited to break the news to Mark.

It was probably nothing, Mark tries to convince himself. He tries to remind himself that whatever he feels for you doesn’t necessarily mean anything and that until he makes those feelings explicitly clear, then there’s no way you can actually know.

You’re not bound to him, you’re not committed or obligated to him and you can do whatever the hell you want with whoever the hell you wanted. But the more he observes you and Lucas and compares the interactions with his, the more he doubts himself. Had he read you wrong? Had he jumped to conclusions, too blinded by his pining to realise that you might not necessarily feel the same?

He wanted to ask about you and Lucas, but couldn’t quite find a subtle way of addressing the matter. There was no way to bring up the little kiss without giving away his true intentions or feelings; no way to address the constant skinship between you and him and if it meant anything.

Perhaps it’s just you as a person and maybe Mark is worrying for no reason. As much as it could mean something, it could equally mean nothing. And it probably was.

Mark sighs as his thoughts come full circle again, the same worries spinning endlessly in his mind. He sets the game console down and huffs again in frustration, unable to quell the raging anxiety in his chest. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and stands up to fetch a pool cue, hoping the level of concentration needed to play will distract him from his thoughts.

He mills around the table for what seems to be the better half of an hour, sinking the striped balls into the pockets, focused and tuned out from the surrounding noises of the reps’ games room.

“Hey!”

Your voice startles him, his hand slipping, missing the ball altogether. He clears his throat to hide his start and turns to face you, though he can’t bring himself to smile.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Since when do you hang about here?”

“I just needed some space,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “The villa can get pretty cramped sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you agree, sensing something isn’t quite right. “Is everything ok though? You seem a bit... off?”

“I’m fine,” Mark replies a little too quickly. “I’m fine.” He repeats, more composed.

“If you’re sure... I just wanted to let you know I managed to get Thursday off next week for your birthday so we’ve got the whole day to hang out!” The excitement in your voice is genuine, Mark knows that for sure, but the incessant voice in his head tells him otherwise, further planting more doubt in his mind.

“About that,” he starts, but he’s not sure where he’s going with it. The words fall out quicker than he can stop them. “I think I’m just gonna have a quiet day in instead. Temperatures are gonna be sky high so I think it’s best if I just stay out the sun.”

Your face falls and your heart drops to your feet but you do everything in your power to remain composed. “Oh.”

Mark regrets the words the second they leave his mouth and your evident disappointment tugs at his heart. “Yeah.”

The wall mounted tv blares out a sports game, filling the momentary silence before you speak up again, clearing your throat to rid yourself of all emotion. “Well... if you change your mind, I’ll still be free, just... just let me know, I guess.”

“I will.” The two of you stand there awkwardly waiting for the other to make a move. “Wanna play?” He offers weakly in an attempt to mend things but you shake your head no.

“I’m gonna head back home,” you frown and swallow the ball in your throat, trying to keep the hurt at bay. “I’ll see you later.”

You turn and leave without waiting for a response, wanting nothing more than to be alone. You chide yourself for being so childish and try to reason that Mark cancelling had nothing to do with you. He was allowed to change his mind and at the end of the day, you weren’t exactly close friends yet, he didn’t have to report back to you or explain himself to you.

Yet you can’t help but feel at fault, one way or another.

In the days that follow, you notice Mark actively keeping his distance from not only you, but from Johnny and Lucas too. He was never in the same room as them, or you for that matter, and barely spoke a word to anyone.

You can’t help but feel responsible and so you feel an extra sense of responsibility to make him feel better.

Thursday rolls around quicker than you’d have liked and with both Lucas and Johnny gone for the day, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the time ahead.

“Have fun at that thing or whatever you have planned today!” Lucas calls over his shoulder with a wink as he rushes out the front door.

He doesn’t hang around to wait for an answer, so you don’t bother giving one. Mark rolls his eyes and tuts in annoyance, muttering under his breath as he tidies the kitchen.

“Can he make it anymore obvious?”

“Ok, Avril Lavigne,” you laugh softly, but the joke seems to fly over his head. “What are you talking about?”

“His shameless flirting. It’s getting pretty annoying.” He slams the fridge with a tad more force than necessary.

You blink, completely at loss. “You’ve been acting real weird lately and, I don’t know, it’s probably none of my business but what’s going on with you?” You lean on the back of the chair, quietly observing his scrunched up face.

His brows furrow further together, his frown deepening. “Nothing.”

“You plan on spending your birthday like this?” You fold your arms and raise an eyebrow in question.

“That’s up to me.” He tries to push past you but you grab his upper arm gently, your worried eyes searching his.

“Hey,” you say softly, your heart suddenly racing a hundred miles an hour. Up close he looks even more breathtaking and it takes an ungodly amount of composure to hold yourself together. His gaze is stormy, almost angry but it doesn’t deter you in the slightest. “Mark, what’s the matter?”

And for a second you expect him to shake you off and ignore another attempt to find out what’s been troubling him. But his eyes soften and beneath his tough boy exterior, he looks upset, hurt almost.

He figures just blurting it out is the best thing to do. What harm could it do now? “I was looking forward to spending time with you...” he admits, but your puzzled expression deepens.

“I was too. But you’re the one who cancelled. I thought maybe you didn’t want to.” You shrug. “No big deal.”

“It was a big deal.” He blurts out.

“Shit happens, you know?” You try and reassure him, thinking that perhaps some emergency had come up or something else he couldn’t avoid had stopped him from spending his birthday like he’d planned. “There’s always tomorrow, or next week, or next month. It doesn’t have to be today–”

“That’s not it,” his teeth worry his lip, chewing nervously.

“I don’t understand. Then what happened?” Your pulse thrums in your ears, blood rushing to your head in anticipation.

“You and Lucas...” he trails off, unsure now. Now that he’s voiced it aloud, it doesn’t seem to make sense.

“Me and that goofball? What about him?” You grow more confused every time he opens his mouth but you eventually put two and two together. “Ohhh,” you draw out the sound, realisation hitting. “You think me and Lucas...?” You gesture with your hands and Mark nods shyly.

You burst out laughing and although Mark doesn’t quite understand, he feels the tension lift from his shoulders. His jaw relaxes and he feels his own lips twitch as he tries to suppress a smile. His cheeks light up again in embarrassment. “What’s funny?”

“I’d rather eat bricks than ever date him. He’s insufferable!” You clutch your stomach as your laughter subsides. “Oh god, I swear, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just– the idea–” your burst into another fit of giggles and Mark starts to chuckle along.

“So you’re not dating?” He asks a final time for clarification.

“Never in a million years.” You shake your head. “He’s a nice guy, really, but we’re just very different. Me and you though–” you clamp your lips together before you let anything else slip, but  the way Mark’s face lights up encourages you to continue. “Uh... me and you should totally go for that drink.”

“His about we go for dinner instead?”

“Dinner? As in, ‘a date’ dinner?”

He pauses for a moment, then nods, his mouth twisting into a grin. “A date dinner.” He pulls you into a tight hug and squeezes your shoulders, his heart beating erratically in time with yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” you exclaim once you pull away. You lean up on your tip-toes and gently press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Happy birthday.”

[rallis-fatalis]

A Soul’s Bane (And Boon)

Long before Rallis was any kind of proper adventurer, she was getting wrapped up in all kinds of messes equally as convoluted. Learning human language and history with her bookworm of a ward was only so exciting, it was inevitable the dragon would eventually run off and stick her nose in far more complicated matters. To be fair, investigating the sudden disappearance of multiple dig site students was definitely more interesting than another history lesson in an old boring book. It was time for a field trip! And hey, a little hands on learning never hurt anyone, right?

If there was one thing Rallis loved more than anything in all of Varrock, it was the museum and its dig site. Learning how to read and write with her 'ward' Reldo was hard and boring, but going on field trips with Reldo was the best thing ever! He knew SO MUCH and could explain anything to her. Every time he took her to the museum or on a field trip to the outskirts of town for some hands-on learning was the best thing ever! And she would argue she learned more too, if only so she could have an excuse to go back out again with him sooner. With her fascination of the museum and the dig site and with his coaxing and careful use of words, Rallis was able to get 'lie-sensed' (why telling the truth when digging up old junk was so important she didn't know) and approved to help out at the dig site and be privy to any cool news. She helped with digs every day she could after that, digging up old bones, artifacts, and even underground caverns with shrines and ritual grounds from an age long past. It was great, though Reldo would argue the amount of dirt was not worth the trouble. Reading history was much more preferable to washing it out of your clothing and hair all night.

One day on their usual outdoor excursions, Rallis and Reldo came across a cluster of grumbling worried individuals by the dig site gate closest to town. It was a group of dig site workers and museum staff, all panicked and at a loss for what to do. The two listened to the group's woes to learn a group of students from the dig site had gone missing and search parties had been making no progress with finding them. With her desire to help out and explore, it was no surprise that when they explained the situation, Rallis immediately volunteered to help investigate.

"Do you know when or about where the students went missing?" Reldo asked the workmen who had brought the case forward to the staff.

One sadly shook his head. "When, a few days ago now," the other said. "Where though, no one is exactly sure. This elderly woman hanging around the museum shared something interesting, though. Apparently her son disappeared too and he was playing a bit northwest of the border of the dig site, near the forest before the limestone mines. We've looked around but can't find anything."

"Maybe you just need better eyes!" Rallis proclaimed. "I can go look!"

"What she means to say is a fresh look over couldn't hurt!" Reldo corrected before the men could grow angry at the snarky comment. "We can investigate as well. If an outside source happened to also bring forth a similar set of information, it certainly merits further investigation."

The two men nodded. "Alright, we'll leave it to you. Please let us know if you find anything."

Later that day, Rallis was sprinting along to the spot in question in search of adventure while Reldo trailed after her, completely out of breath and tired. "There's no... reason... to run!" he panted. "The clues... aren't going anywhere!"

Rallis threw the gate open that separated the dig site from the main road. "Adventure though, bookman! People are missing and we gotta find them! Ooo maybe they're in another hidden underground god circle like the one I found!"

"A shrine?" he tried.

Rallis snapped her fingers. "Yes, that! A 'shrine.' They could have found one and got stuck! We almost did when I dug that Zaros one up."

They found themselves in a more forested area of the site where no digs were going on. It was too close to the road and deemed void of finds to warrant clearing the trees and setting up shop. It was around here that seemed to be the most probable spot to find clues about the missing students according to the reports. Rallis gave the air a sniff. "Well, it smells like humans if that helps. Humans and dirt. It's small though. Not big like the actual dig."

"Its 'faint,'" Reldo corrected. "They did say the students have been gone for a few days now. That could be why it's not strong." The two poked around more hoping to find anything, maybe footprints or a valuable or something that would show people were here recently. But there was nothing. He was about to suggest checking elsewhere when Rallis piped up about something. He ran over to find her getting excited about dirt.

He sighed. "That's dirt, Rallis. We are in a dig site. There's always dirt."

She shook her head. "No, look!" she snapped while tracing the dirt. "It's in a line. Like when you fix clothing. You know, the line?"

Reldo bent down to get a closer look. "Like a seam," he mumbled as he parted the grass to investigate farther. Rallis was right. It was an unnatural formation to be sure. The dirt folded over itself like a long sewn scar, hidden in the grass. It was really quite hard to see. He was impressed she found it.

Rallis started to dig at it. "Underground god circle, I'm telling you!" She made quick work of ripping away the grass and digging away at the dirt below.

"Well if it is another shrine, digging it open like this might not be the best idea!" Reldo warned. Rallis ignored him and continued until she hit something hard, recoiling with an 'Ow!' as she shook out her hand. The ground rumbled in response, growled even, and in the blink of an eye, the entire length of the dirt seam opened up and swallowed her whole, cutting off a startled yelp as it sealed itself back up as if she were never even there. The scenery went back to its quiet normal self, there was simply one less person in the picture.

"Rallis...?"

She was gone. Vanished. Like she had never been there. Disbelief was gone, panic set in. "Rallis?!" Reldo scraped at the dirt frantically, trying his best to replicate whatever she had done. The dirt wasn't soft and malleable anymore, however. Reldo hissed as he found himself scraping against rock, fingers coming away gritty and bloody. "What just...? How...? Rallis... Where did you go?!"

------------------------------

It was hot. Really, really hot. Rallis wobbled up and brushed the dirt off her clothes. Her skirt earned a new hole but other than that, she was fine. She looked around her new setting. There was no more open sky, nor trees or grass or humans that smelled like old books. Instead, there was a cave, a hot sweltering cave illuminated by fire that blazed in every corner and along every wall. The walls and floor were a dark red, an angry color. Rallis walked around, trying to find a way out.

"Reldo? Are you here?" No response. Hissing whispered in her ears, like that of many serpents talking at once. It sounded like words but there were so many talking it just gave her a headache. She shook her head. "You're not Reldo! I'm looking for my friend, not you!"

Another voice spoke in her ears now. Well, more shouted really, a man's voice but he was whining like a child. "Why am I to be trapped in such a wretched place?! It's not fair! It's! Not! FAIR!" The fiery cavern started to shake and crack, flames spurting out of the walls and ground. "Feel my anger!" One last monstrous shake threw Rallis to the ground. She yelped as she quickly stood back up, dancing from foot to foot as she tried not to step on the floor. It was blazing hot! Sure she had been used to rock heated by lava back home, but this was a whole new kind of heat, an abnormal kind.

From the jets of fire in the walls and ground, forms started to take shape. Out of the inferno, beasts stepped forward. Unicorns, bears, rats, and goblins made of living fire, furious and ready to kill anything that dared move. One of the beasts, a bear, noticed Rallis and sped forward to attack. She easily slid out of the way and raked her claws across its furry side and came away screaming. She huddled in on herself as she fell to the ground and gripped her shirt, her hands stinging like she'd stuck them in a hornet nest. She pulled them away to take a look and found them scorched, blistered, and bloody. The bear turned around to strike again and Rallis booked it. She was not getting burned again!

She sped around a rocky corner and found an alcove hidden away from the fire and beasts and sat down. She hissed as she looked at her scorched hands and gave them a lick. The pain stung so badly, worse than when she'd dunked her foot in lava back home in Taverley and couldn't walk for over a week. She ripped most of her shirt off and wrapped it around her hands, tying the torn pieces into makeshift bandages. She whined as she poked her head around the corner to find the angry fire beasts roaming around. "What is this?" she cried. "What am I supposed to even do? Why am I here? I don't want to be here. I was just looking for some kids!"

Something hissed in her ear, making her turn around to the wall. "Weapons?" Sure enough, hanging on a rack on the wall were four different weapons. A sword, a spear, a mace, and an axe. They were like nothing she had ever seen before, spiked and angry looking. She picked up the sword and carefully set back out to the monsters. They noticed her immediately and came charging, this time a unicorn striking first. Rallis waited for it to get closer, and closer, and there! She slid underneath it and ran her sword across its stomach as it ran. The horse screeched before erupting in a burst of flame. Next one of the giant rats came at her. Rallis stabbed down at it with her sword but nothing happened. The blow bounced off like she had tried to stab a bar of mithril with a stick.

"What?!"

She leapt back before it could give her a nasty bite and kicked it away, foot singeing in the process. She hissed and growled at the monsters, more spawning from the flames. She went after a bear but yielded the same result, as did attacking the goblin. She stared them down and roared a horrifying roar. "I'm thrown down into this pit of fire with no warning, burn my hands and feet, have creepy people talking in my head, and now I can't even kill what's trying to kill me? I DON'T THINK SO!" She threw the sword down and ran back to grab the remaining three weapons. She held the spear in one hand and axe in the other, sword and mace on the ground. With a battle cry, she ran at the beasts and cut them down one by one in a mad frenzy. When one weapon didn't work, she dropped it for another, striking out at everything in the room with whatever she had in hand. The infernal beasts were starting to run in fear from this crazed monster, cowering in a corner. One of the bears was too slow in running, Rallis launching the spear into its back and reveling in its combustion. She turned her attention to the cowering flaming beasts, hissing in her ears egging her on. With a monstrous shriek, she cut them down with a single blow and grinned as she watched the fires dim and disappear.

With the monsters gone, the room cooled. The floor didn't burn and the walls weren't ablaze. The weapons in her hands disappeared into smoke as well, and at once exhaustion hit her. Rallis gasped as she fell to her hands and knees, dizzy and sick and boiling hot despite the now cool room. "Why... how... did I do that?"

The hissing and the voice from earlier echoed throughout the room.

"Feel my rage, for what they did!"

Her head continued spinning, things moving at a nauseating pace, and everything was so hot and burning and horrible. Her head hit the floor as she collapsed on the spot.

---------------------------- There was a dream about someone. A boy running off from his parents to go explore the dig site. He wanted to join as an archaeologist but his parents said no. They were poor. It cost money to join as a member of the museum and dig site. You had to go to school and take tests and all these things that cost money they didn't have. So he ran off to do it all himself. And he disappeared. That was 25 years ago...

Hissing. There was more hissing. It was quieter this time, and not as angry as before. Rallis hissed back, a 'shut up' in Wyvernic, and surprisingly the voices listened. Rallis groaned as she opened her eyes, her head still aching from the frenzy earlier and whatever bits of dream flashed through her head. She blinked the grogginess away and took in her new surroundings. It was really dark wherever she was. She couldn't tell if the place was lit or if it was her ability to see in the dark that was helping her make shapes out. Either way, the lighting was a bit disorienting. She crawled up from the floor and timidly looked around. There were large square shapes, pillars almost, around this circular room. Outside of that, there were no other features that were easily distinguishable. Rallis investigated one of the square pillars up close. They seemed to be hollow, and as she ran her hand across its surface, she felt gaps. 'It feels like bars,' she thought. 'Kinda like... oh! Oh! That thing in Varrock where they throw tomatoes at people, the rude place! What was that called? Jail?'

A slam against the bars startled her out of her thinking. Rallis yelped and jumped back against the wall, or what she thought was a wall but was really a hole in the wall. She tumbled in, banging her head as she fell, and watched in horror as a long thin pale arm reached through the bars of the pillar. More followed suit, and more, and more, until hundreds of ghostly limbs grabbed at the cage and shook. Rallis crept further back into the hole in fear. "What are you?" she whispered mostly to herself. At once, the hands stopped grabbing and shaking the cage and in unison pointed to her, or rather behind her. Her blood ran cold. She slowly turned around and what greeted her was not the shadowy depths of the hole in the wall. No, it was something unnameable, something that made every fiber of her being shout 'RUN.' It was a pale white face floating in the darkness, skin grotesquely stretched over an oval shape. The mouth was stretched open in a permanent scream, the blank eyes wide open in fear. The pale face lifted open like a mouth unhinged, and underneath where a chin and neck might be was an endless gaping maw full of row after row after row of needle sharp blood stained teeth. It screeched like a banshee, Rallis flinching and covering her ears as she sprinted out of the hole and to the opposite end of the room as fast as she could. She clawed at the cage walls and screamed.

"SOMEONE PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE!" She tried climbing the walls to get out, but that simply enraged whatever was caged inside. A pale hand reached out of the shadowy depths of the cage and grabbed her by the leg. Then another grabbed her by the arm, and another by the tail and another and another and another until she was pinned against the bars unable to move an inch. She wriggled and writhed and tried her best to break free but to no avail.

"Let go of meaugh-!!"

A hand closed around her throat, ceasing her shouting in a strangled gurgle. The arms held her against the wall as the monster crept closer. 'Let me go! Please, let me go! Let me-!'

The monstrosity was right in front of her now, its shadowy body floating off the ground and fading into the darkness of the background. An arm appeared from its cloaked figure and brought a long clawed finger to her face, nicking her cheek as it dragged its finger down. Suddenly, it grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground, pale captors letting go. The lack of air and sheer terror of it all made her feel so heavy and useless, completely unable to move. The monster's face lifted open once more to reveal the endless pit of teeth and brought her face closer. Through the fog and fear, one thought managed to pierce through and set every nerve on overdrive.

'Move or die!'

Like a spark of lightning, Rallis jolted into action, kicking at the creature and sending it flying. She was surprised it had any solid form at all, honestly. The thing looked like a ghost with a mask. It screamed from where it had fallen and darted forward once more, nearly sending Rallis into that same frozen panic. She shuddered and shook her head. 'No, don't freak out! Don't be scared! If you can hit it, you can kill it!'

The monster slashed at her with its claws but missed spectacularly. Rallis snuck up behind it and jumped onto its back, chomping at what she assumed was its neck. The creature yelled as it rammed its back against the wall, knocking her loose. The thing picked her up and slammed her against the ground once, twice, thrice. If her head didn't hurt before, it certainly hurt now. Dazed and stunned, Rallis laid on the ground and glared at the snarling visage staring her down. She had one shot left before she was either dead or passed out then dead. The beast brought its mouth closer and closer, ready to rip her face clean off, and in a last ditch attempt, Rallis jumped from the ground and nabbed the thing's neck in her jaws. Its cries ended with a crunch as she bit down, its dead body fading into the shadows of the room.

The room seemed to brighten a bit with the beast gone. It was less dark, less unknown. The cages were empty, the shadow beast was gone, it was just an empty room as if everything was a terrifying illusion. Rallis slumped down to the floor, leaning against the wall. Her head felt like it was going to split open it hurt so much. The hissing and the voices were muttering something, surprised, but she couldn't really tell what. "You don't gotta be scared," she slurred, trying to make sense of all the voices. "Look, see?" She motioned to the now empty cages and lack of monsters. "You turn on the lights and it's all gone." Her eyes started to close. "All... gone..."

--------------------------------

There was another dream. That boy was back. He was all alone in a dark pit, sobbing and wailing, wanting his parents. Something slithered around him, something that was one but many. It hissed as it encircled him, smiling as it watched the boy scream and flail as he tried to get away. Countless glowing eyes glared at the terrified child and the creature smiled. "Feel my anger, feel my pain! Feel this death your kind gave me!" The boy screamed himself hoarse as the beast strangled him and turned him into a monster.

Rallis jumped up with a start. Between the angry fire beasts, the horrifying masked monster, and the weird nightmare snippets, she was more than a bit on edge. She hardly had a moment to think about the boy and the monster in her dream as the new scenery all but assaulted her senses. It looked like a rainbow puked all over the room, pale pinks, blues, yellows, and purples decorating the floor and walls in haphazard splotches. Green and orange bands twined with blue and yellow ones to create some startlingly unsafe hazards akin to tree roots. Other than the bright and sickening color scheme, the room smelled weird too, like acid and... sugar? In the distance, there were five lumpy shapes rolling around the floor and five warped doors with nothing holding them up, both just as brightly colored and patchy as the room.

"This just gets weirder and weirder!" Rallis said, watching the shapes roll around and ignoring the doors. One seemed to notice her and rolled over. Wary from the last two encounters, Rallis readied for a fight. But the odd looking creature simply rolled up to her and stared. "Whoa you look weird!" It was like someone took a human doll and switched the arms and legs around and stitched them on backwards. They stood on all fours instead of two and cartwheeled and rolled around instead of walking. Their joints moved in every direction, and its head seemed to slowly rotate in a complete circle as time passed. The thing didn't attack, just stared up at her and drooled and moaned. Rallis got on all fours as well, just like the beast. It moaned and rolled away to rejoin the others. "Wait!" she called after it and began to roll over. She giggled as she rolled like a dog in the dirt over to the beasts and flopped beside them. They all looked down at her, confused.

"Hello!" she laughed up at them.

At once, they all spoke in a cacophonous uproar. Rallis bolted up and covered her ears. "Whoa whoa whoa!" she shouted. "One at a time!" She shushed them all, covering their mouths until they stopped talking. "Phew, much better. One at a time, okay?" She pointed to the first of five. "What's wrong?"

"Who am I?" it cried as its head turned on its axis.

Rallis blinked. "Uhhhh... Iunno?" She shrugged. "We'll come back to that." She pointed to the second one. "What about you?"

It slowly looked around as if it had never seen this place before. "Where am I?"

"Hmm, okay, good question. Let's hear them all first."

She called on them all like a patient teacher hearing her students' questions. Who am I? Where am I? Where's mom and dad? How long have I been here? Am I still who I once was?

She thought for a moment. These were some tricky questions. And it seemed she couldn't get any more information as they only seemed to speak in these questions. She didn't have any clues either. How tricky. "Hmm... roll with me, funny friends!" She rolled across the floor and the five confusedly followed suit. They rolled around the unstable crooked doors, Rallis contemplating the matter as she raced her weird new friends. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. "When I don't get something, I usually go with it until I get it. You don't know who you are or where you are so don't worry about it! You know what you can do right now? You can roll!" She laughed as she continued on, faster this time, rolling across the weird patchy floor that smelled like poisoned sugar and trying not to get snagged on the weird rainbow roots. She rolled up against a wall with a huff and splayed on the floor with a giggle. The five surrounded her and watched her antics.

"You know!" she started. "I don't know much, but I'll take what I got. You!" she exclaimed and pointed to one of the beasts. "You wanted to know who you are? I think you're a little kid! A little boy who ran away from his parents because he was mad. Why else would I have dreams about someone I never met? Am I right?"

A moment of clarity flashed across the creature's face. It sat down and stared blankly at the wall before muttering something. "Tolna. I'm Tolna." And with that, it vanished in a puff of rainbow smoke, and one of the crooked doors with it.

"Oh, that's your name?" she said to the other four. "Nice to meet you! I'm Rallis." She pointed to the next one. "If you're really that boy from the dreams, you fell down a hole near the dig site when you ran away. That's where you are right now. You're in the hole." It mumbled 'yes' before vanishing as well. She pointed to another. "I don't know about your dad, but your mom is at the museum and she's been asking about and looking for you. She's just a short walk away! It sounded like she was really worried."

The beast started to tear up. "Mom?" And it vanished too.

Two beasts and doors were left. She pointed to one of them. "25 years! You've been here 25 years!" It vanished with an 'Oh.' Now it was just the existential one left. "You tell me. Are you what you used to be?" It could only spin its head in a circle but it seemed to nod no. "Well I think you are! You're a boy named Tolna who fell down a hole by the dig site 25 years ago and has parents who have been searching ever since. That's still you. The rest of you seemed to think so anyway! You just look a little different right now." It seemed unsure. Rallis put a hand on what she assumed was its shoulder. "Hey. Despite everything, it's still you." That answer seemed to make it happy as it disappeared as well. Only Rallis was left now, her and one now unlocked door, not five. "Guess we can go."

The door was small and crooked, fit for more of a child really. She opened it and despite it standing in the the middle of the room, what she saw through it was not the other side of the room, but rather an unending darkness. She shuddered, remembering the masked monster and the dark room from before. 'Nope! That's done! Move on! Don't worry!' She cautiously stepped through, door shutting behind her and leaving her in pitch black.

She walked for awhile in the dark nothingness, keeping a hopeful eye out for anything of interest. Something caught her attention after walking, but it wasn't a sight, it was a sound, hissing from all around her. It tried whispering something in her ear and she whirled around to face whatever it was, but only found the young blond boy from the flashes of dreams she had in this place. She was about to say hello when he spoke. "What's making me feel so bad?" he asked. "The hissing monster? What is it?"

He looked like he was going to start crying. The poor kid was obviously scared. Rallis didn't know how to answer. "I'm sorry," she started. "But I don't know."

The boy sighed and looked away. "No one does. It's so frustrating! It's so confusing!" The boy grabbed his head with a cry as something coiled around him and pulled him into the shadows.

Rallis reached out to help, but the floor vanished from under her. "WHA-?!" She screamed as she fell further into the darkness and away from the boy.

"Stop screaming. There's no escape. It's hopeless."

----------------------------

For 25 years the lost child warped in the shadowy pit in both body and mind, a force beyond his control turning him into a monster. He grew angry at the flashes of life he could see of the world above. There were all these people doing what he wanted to do, but here he was rotting in a hole. No one cared he was gone, no one was looking for him, and it made him furious. He lured people into his abysmal dark cell with hints at a treasure that didn't exist, hoping to pique their curiosity, and one by one people went missing, left to rot in this inescapable hell with him. Everyone would suffer with him, everyone! And the many voices in his head assured him he was doing the right thing.

Rallis flew up from the floor with a start, the feeling of falling startling her awake. She woke to another weird room, this time grey and drab and boring. There were some rock formations jutting out of the ground in various spots around the room and in the center was a massive hole, like a slice that cut it in half. On the other side was something that looked very much like an exit. "If all I have to do is jump across, I'm doing it! I'm getting tired of this!"

She walked closer and her ears drooped more with each step she took. The ravine wasn't as small as she thought. It looked to be 20 feet across, maybe more. That wasn't something she could jump. 'Maybe if I get a running start?' she thought. She glanced back at the other end of the room and realized that wasn't likely. There wasn't much room to run. It was as if the room shrank from her feelings of doubt.

"What's the point?" a voice wailed, snapping Rallis out of her thoughts. "There's no way across. No one will help you."

Rallis looked around and found a young girl slumped up against the wall, sadly staring at the pit. She ran over to take a look and found two others, two boys around the same age. One was on the ground, face planted in the floor, and the other was on his side, like someone threw him and he hadn't bothered to move. "Are you okay?" Rallis asked worriedly as she looked them over. The girl had a satchel with the end of a rope and a cleaning brush poking out, while the two boys had rockpicks strung to their belts. 'That's museum gear!'

"'Okay,'" the girl moaned. "Is anyone really?"

"Ooo Reldo had a word for that! What was it? Angsty?" Rallis laughed as she tried to mimic his voice. "Stop being so angsty, we have work to do!" She tried to pull the girl up but she wouldn't budge. Rallis frowned. "You're from the museum, right? Students of the dig site?"

She looked at the dragon with mild surprise. "Yeah... how'd you know?"

She pointed to the satchel. "Dirt tools! We've been looking for you, you know. People that have gone missing. We found you though so now we can get you all home!"

"And how do you expect we do that?" the girl moaned. "Look." She motioned to the exit. "There's a ditch in the way and no way across. We're going to be stuck here forever."

Rallis dismissed the thought. "Oh that's silly. No ones gonna be stuck here forever. We just gotta get to the other side!" The girl didn't seem convinced. "C'mon! Get up, let's go!" Rallis pulled on the girl's arm until she finally budged, begrudgingly staggering forward. "What have you tried so far?" Rallis asked.

The girl shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Rallis all but growled. "You been here all this time and you've done nothing?"

"Well look!" the girl cried. "There's nothing here and there's no way across. Maybe we should just roll into the pit and end it all. There's no point in anything anyway." It was like with every negative comment the girl grew more hopeless and grey.

"No no no no no! No one is jumping into the death hole! Jeez you need some sunlight." Rallis pointed to the pack. "Anything in there that's useful?"

The girl lazily opened the bag and pulled out a brush, some rope, and a doll. "Not really," she said. "Nothing that could get us across."

Rallis took the coil of rope from her. "Well I wouldn't be so sure about that. What about your friends?" The girl shrugged. Rallis rolled her eyes and bent down to wake them up. "Hellooooooo!" she shouted at the boy with his face in the dirt as she shook him. "Time to get up!" She flipped him over and slapped his face.

"Ow..." the boy mumbled, groggily opening his eyes. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm sleeping?"

"Sleep later, work now," Rallis commanded. "We need your help. What have you got on you?"

He closed his eyes again. "What have I got? I've got the pain of the world, the shame of living a lie, the knowledge of misery."

Rallis sighed. "Y'all need help. We really gotta get you outta here." She noticed the rock pick on his belt and took it. "Got anything else like this?"

The boy sighed and nodded as he pulled more rope from the back of his belt and handed it over. "Thank you!" she chirped. "Now I really need you to get up, okay?" He groaned but complied, slowly dragging himself into a sitting position. She moved on to the second boy and pulled him upright. "You too. Time to get moving. What have you got?"

He undid a second rock pick from his belt. "Just this," he muttered. "Nothing useful."

Rallis took it and looked it over. "Oh I think it is. Come on you three, time to go." As the three shuffled over to the ravine's edge, Rallis took the rope pieces and tied them together, making one long continuous piece. Next she tied both ends to the rock picks, tying a firm knot through the hole in their handles. With a tug test she determined it to be as sturdy as she could make it. 'Hopefully that'll do.' The rope seemed to sparkle with her hint of optimism.

There were some dull stalagmites on both sides of the ravine. With the rope and picks, Rallis had a plan. Aiming for one of the rocks on the other side, she twirled the rope in the air, rock pick swinging dangerously close over the students' heads, and launched it toward the rock. The pick hit its mark, wrapping around the rock a bit before snagging. Rallis gave it a hard yank but it did not budge. She grinned and tied the other end to a similar rock nearby. There was now a makeshift tightrope swaying precariously over the bottomless pit.

She held her hands out to her feat as if she were presenting a masterpiece of art. "There we go! Easy!" The students were not impressed, drab stares looking at the pit in front of them.

"We'll never get across," one of the boys said.

"It's too dangerous," the other agreed.

"We'll just fall," the girl chimed in.

Rallis groaned. "No you won't! It'll be fine! Here, watch! I'll even go across first and show you how it's done. I can hold the rope down too once I get across if it'll make you feel better."

The three watched intently as Rallis got on her hands and knees and grabbed the rope firmly. She then slipped into the ravine, nothing but her grip on the rope keeping her from falling. Like a monkey, she swung across, grabbing the rope as she sped along. "I like doing it like this instead of walking," she called back to them as she continued. "That way I don't have to worry about losing my balance and falling!" The three were impressed, watching her every movement. Once Rallis reached the end, she hooked her claws into the rock and kicked off, easily hopping the ledge. She immediately tied the rope and pick down more securely. It had started to come undone from her swinging but she was not about to tell them that.

"There, see?" she called back. "Easy! One of you come on too!"

They watched the slightly swaying rope, hesitant. "C'mon you can do it!" she called to them. "Trust yourself!" The girl stepped forward, slipping down and grabbing the rope like Rallis did. It was hard, but she began to swing across. Rallis held the rope down as she went, and the girl soon reached the edge. Rallis lent a helping hand and pulled her up. The girl was smiling, showing an actual emotion.

"You can do it, guys!" she shouted. "It's not that bad! Hurry up and let's get out of here!"

"Yeah, that's right!" Rallis cheered with her. "You can do it!"

The rope almost seemed to shimmer with light as they encouraged the others on. One of the boys followed their example and monkeyed across, grinning wide as he was pulled onto the other side. It really was easy! He called back to their friend. "Let's go, man! We're finally getting out of here!"

The last student laughed and readied to swing across. He began his trek across, the rope bouncing every which way as he sped over. The movement was too much, however, and once he neared the other side, the unattended rock pick came loose. It fell into the pit, taking the rope and boy with it. Without thinking, Rallis lunged and grabbed the boy by the arm before he could fall to his doom. She was gripping the dangling rope with her foot as the other two students had hold of her tail. The boy she had ahold of was terrified, staring wide eyed at the pit below.

"Don't look down!" Rallis snapped. "Look up here. Everything's fine."

The two students up above were slipping, edging closer to falling in themselves. "They can't pull us up," the boy whined. "This wasn't going to work from the start. You should just let me go."

Rallis growled as she hefted him closer. "I. Think. Not! Don't give up so easily! You just gotta believe!" Without warning, she threw the boy up with all her strength. The other two let go of her tail, letting her fall to grab hold of their friend. Rallis fell all but a few feet before managing to grab the rope, gripping it for dear life as she started to have a small breakdown over what she just did. She was too scared to move, the fear of that feeling of falling taking over. Luckily she didn't have to. With the strength of three people versus one weight, the three pulled their saviour to safety. Rallis flopped onto the ground, hugging the stalagmite the rope was tied to.

"A-are you all okay?" she asked shakily.

They all nodded. "Yeah, thanks to you," the girl said.

"That's good," she replied. "You should probably get out then. The exit is right there and you've got people looking for you. Go home."

They nodded in excitement. "Yeah! Thank you again for all the help." And they vanished, happily sprinting through the exit.

Rallis sighed as she lay on the floor, gripping the rock and trying to calm down from the near death fall. It was so quiet now that she was alone, so empty. That was until a voice spoke in her ear.

"You were faced with an insurmountable obstacle and yet you sought to face it," the voice said. "Why? How could you continue when no one else would help you? What made you think you could get out of the situation?"

"I don't know what in-sir-mount-whatever means," she told the voice. "But I know that you can fix every problem if you just try and never give up. Sometimes all you need to build a bridge is a little rope and hope." She smiled as she sat up and showed off the now glowing rope. The voice disappeared with a thoughtful hum, and with that Rallis walked through the exit, ready to bring an end to this adventure.

---------------------------- The students had been found and rescued and Rallis thought maybe everything was done and dealt with now, so she was rather surprised to find another room through the exit and not the forest and dig site up above. The floor wasn't burning hot and red or a shadowy void of black or a variety of pastels or grey and drab. It was just normal dirt, maybe a bit of clay mixed in too, and it was cracked and filled with holes, like cheese after a rat had gotten to it. Some of the holes were huge too, ones you could easily trip and fall in. Other than that, nothing else was there. Feeling gutsy, Rallis called out.

"Hello? Anyone or anything here?"

The room suddenly felt very heavy, like the air was replaced with iron. Hissing echoed and bounced off the walls, deafeningly loud. The ground started to shake and crack, throwing Rallis off balance. She fell to the ground to see three snake-like and also almost human-like heads slither out of the ground, towering over her in anger. They snarled at her, fangs dripping with venom. Rallis scooted away, more than a little frightened at the beast in front of her. One of the heads slithered down and over to her, stopping mere inches from her face.

"Drak, kinsvet, dragon," it hissed in twelve voices at once, unable to decide how it wanted to speak. "Wah stah eehr, yho thehs et, why are you here?"

"I'm here to help," she replied. "You have someone who needs help, and I think you might need some too."

"Heeehel! Help!" it exclaimed before screeching. "You can't help it," it continued, this time in just one voice. "You can't help it or me."

Rallis stood up and pat it on the head. The beast did not appreciate the gesture. "I'll be the judge of that!" There was a strip of earth that sat neatly between all three of the angry slinking heads, and that's where Rallis plopped back down. The three slithered closer, curious about the person who had bested their dungeon and was still unafraid, even in the face of this new horrifying-looking beast. "Your name is Tolna, right?"

One of the heads said yes while the others said no.

"What's your other name then?" she asked.

One of the heads coiled back as if in pain from thinking about the question while the other two slumped down into their respective holes. "Loarnab," it finally hissed.

"Nice to meet you then, Loarnab," Rallis said with a smile. "Are you a snake beast? A haisarah? I don't think humans can hiss like that!"

"Haisarah... me... ohhct... K I L L E D!!!"

The three heads thrashed about, screaming and roaring and slamming against the walls, chipping into the rocks and sending more cracks in the walls of its prison. "Whoa, hey, calm down!" Rallis shouted at them. They showed no signs of stopping and they were starting to hurt themselves too. With a huff, Rallis jumped at one of the flailing monsters and grabbed tight, climbing up to its head and covering its eyes. It stopped moving so wildly, the other two slowing down in curiosity as well. "Just calm down, you two! There's no need for that! Talk it out instead!" She uncovered its eyes as it seemed to calm down, sinking back down closer to the floor. Rallis hopped back onto land. "Much better. You have some problems too, huh?" The monster seemed to nod. Rallis thought for a moment before snapping her fingers with a plan.

"How about this? I'll listen to both of you and help you both out. But Tolna first!" The heads hissed at her, though one smiled a bit at the end. "Sorry Loarnab, but your anger buddy has been away from his family long enough. He needs to go home. I'll stay with you instead!"

They hissed, unsure, but relented. Nothing had changed for the better down in this pit for a long time. Maybe this new visitor really would help. She listened to Tolna's story, other heads hissing with interjections here and there.

"Well I think there's nothing to be upset about!" Rallis proclaimed. "If you're mad your parents said no to you going to school, ask them why! Maybe you can find out why they said that. There's no need to be scared of new things, either. Everything is new once! Even exploring a hole you fell into and finding an angry haisarah." The heads laughed at that. "And there's no reason to be scared to ask why your parents said no. The worst they can do is just not answer, but I bet they will. New things might be confusing at first too, but that's okay! You just learn them! It might take a few tries but you gotta keep at it. Never give up hope. Things always work out, whether it's finding a way home after falling into a hole, finding a way to go to school, or any other problem that happens. It always works out and everything ends up fine."

The heads seemed happier, having someone to listen and talk to that wouldn't just fuel their rage. "You should go home, Tolna. People miss you."

The heads hissed and smiled and vanished, as did the rest of the room. Nothing was left. Just inky darkness and the sounds of hissing and slithering. "Did you let him go?" Rallis asked the shadows.

"Yesss..." twelve different voices said.

"Then it's your turn," she said. "You've got a lot going on, don't you? Dragging people down here and making them crazy."

Something stepped out of the nothingness. Something big. Its details were hard to make out in the dark, but Rallis could see a large scaly body with a long lashing tail and twelve hissing heads. The beast sat in front of her, waiting. Rallis got comfortable, leaning back on the ground she could feel but not see.

"So tell me, Loarnab the haisarah. What's got you so upset?"

-------------------------------

It was quiet, the only sound being the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The ground was comfy, the grass feeling extra soft and cozy. With the sun setting too, it was the perfect setting for a nice little nap...

"RALLIS?!"

Rallis lifted her head off the grass with a groan. Pieces of grass and small flowers were stuck to her face where she had drooled on the ground in her sleep. She looked up to see a familiar bespectacled face in the form of her mentor. "Hi Reldo," she yawned. He was shaking with, what was that? Anger? Shock? Relief? He pulled her off the ground and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Where have you been?!" he shouted. "I have been looking for you all day and scared half to death! And now that I've found you you're asleep in the flowers?! Do you understand how worried I've been?!"

Rallis flinched and covered her ears. "Mmmmno more shouting," she groaned. "I just woke up. I had the craziest dream."

"Oh, not as crazy as what I just went through, I assure you! First you fall down a hole and vanish. Then I run off to get help and come back to the missing students asleep on the ground! So hooray, mystery solved I guess, but how? We take them back to Varrock and I come back and there's ANOTHER person on the ground! The missing person the woman hanging around the museum was talking about no less! He wouldn't stop spouting nonsense about some ancient city and a hydra god holding him captive the whole walk back to town. And now this third time, you're here. What, does this forest just spawn missing people all day?!"

Rallis turned away from the shrill shouting man and looked at the ground, as if she would find her answers there. "Rallis, are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," she said with another yawn. "I've had an adventure too."

Now done with his rant, Reldo took a good look at her. There were holes in her skirt and bruises on her neck. Her shirt was nearly gone and ripped dirty cloth was tied around her hands, reddish stains marring the wrappings. There were small scrapes in a few places on her too. He took one of her hands and undid the dirty wrappings, revealing the bloody burns underneath. She hissed as the air made it hurt again. "What happened to you?" he asked, concerned.

Rallis took her hand away and pressed it against her skirt, covering it back up. Her groggy mind went back to the conversation she had with the hydra. The poor beast had grown into a monster over its death and neglect. What was once a magical creature like any other grew warped and evil as its home was taken from it before being slain and its body and soul used for horrible unspeakable things. Its restless spirit haunted the grounds it died upon, luring lost creatures in to become a part of it or slowly wither away in its solitude. The beast had grown into the personification of negativity and foulness, and it wasn't likely to get much better after ages of neglect, but Rallis tried her best anyway.

Rallis looked back down at the ground and sighed before starting off towards home. "Well if that was all real, this time I've got a story for you."

[detroit-become-magic]

Leo Manfred: Green Witch

So continuing on with my magic headcanons in a sci-fi video games, a weird few headcanons came in the form of Leo Manfred. For purposes of this AU, he is not a complete wreck. Without much ado, let’s go!

Leo always had a green thumb. Magic has always had the tendency of presenting young. He’s found out he likes playing mud and gardening ever since he was introduced in the great outdoors. 

Even if the great painter Carl Manfred is recognised as his dad, he feels like Carl doesn’t acknowledge as his dad. He retreats himself to his plats, talking to them like people. 

This of course concerns his mother who tries her best. She pushes him to get friends. They’re pretty cool and all to Leo but he likes plants more. 

Leo meets a woman at the local gardening store for his seventh birthday to pick up a new plant. It’s the first time he feels connected to someone. He can smell rich pine and the clean air of the forest around her. 

The woman leaves her card for him to contact. Blaire, botanist, environmentalist, and, apparently, green witch.

Blaire and Leo’s mom become fast friends and eventually girlfriends. It works out in the end because Leo now has a green witch in the house that can guide him. 

Because Leo has stable parental figures in his life, Carl’s absence doesn’t affect him as much as it does in canon. So he’s more emotionally mature. (Still an idiot sometimes, but everybody is an idiot sometimes)

Leo, because he’s a green witch, cares very much for the environment. Which  is why he doesn’t appreciate the progressions of technology harming the environment and recycles appropriately. 

Leo’s ten when he loses his sight. It’s a mishap at a swimming pool on a school excursion. Only a few were harmed but Leo was blinded. He’s had some surgery (paid generously by daddy dearest who is never there) so he can perceive some light but his optical nerves were seriously damaged. 

Learning how to cope with being blind is fun (unless you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic here). Leo’s hooked up with a braille tutor, has to change his entire lifestyle and has to be that extra touch careful. 

But strangely he can talk to plants in a way. The green witch in him can use plants as a sort of radar to help him walk around. Leo retreats even further into gardening.

It’s not a good idea to bother the blind kid who happens to be a witch. His classmates didn’t know about the witch part though. Attitudes to the supernatural range from fearful to downright snide by the mundane. A few kids thought it’d be funny to steal his lunch and play piggy in the middle with it. 

Unlucky for them, Leo was resting against an old oak tree, slowly dying because the polluted soil it was planted on. The tree roots lurch, rising up as if it was starting to move and the branch slither around. It’s only meant to scare and it does, leaving the kids running for the hills. 

Leo goes back to reading his book, (printed in braille)

It’s around when he’s sixteen that he enters his ‘punk’ faze. It’s not really a punk faze. He just starts listening to a lot of angry music, gets taken to underground concerts by friends that are both human and magical.

When Leo enters college, that’s when Leo starts making bad decisions. Namely, drugs. 

College is the phase where you start experimenting and, hey, since everybody was getting doped up, why couldn’t Leo? He could do everything they could do. 

Cocaine, red ice, meth, cannabis, he does it all. But thanks to his weird witch biology, he always detoxes and the high never lasts. But being good at gardening, he starts growing a few illicit plants. 

In his second year, he creates a prototype of a new drug that’s like red ice. It affects supernatural creatures more than humans. A few of his ‘friends’ want to refine the substance and promise to give Leo a cut of the profits if he gives them the formula. 

And hey, it’s money, why not? (Leo, you stupid idiot.)

Leo is a common sight at environment sort of protests and has at some point used his powers to attack development projects. The police never find out it’s him doing that, since there are so many other people and Leo can get lost in a crowd. Also Leo is not above pulling the blind card. 

Meetings with his father are always stilted and awkward. It’s enough for Leo to get an impression that his dad is disappointed in him. Carl knows about the whole witch thing but he’s never taken magic seriously since it’s not common anymore and more of a fairy tale these days. 

Kamski on the other hand is very interested in the witch thing. It’s not his first brush with the supernatural. In fact, he has a half-brother that’s a werewolf (*cough, cough* Gavin *cough, cough*). But Leo is not a big fan of what Kamski represents which is further destruction of the environment with the development of androids and harvesting of thirium so half the time he crosses Kamski, he’s either picking a fight or ignoring him. 

Remember the stupid drug deal Leo made a few points back? It comes back to haunt him. 

His friends want a new formula with a little ‘added insurance’.

Carl doesn’t enjoy the same protection given to Leo’s mother from the supernautral and is basically a sitting duck. So a few guys break into his mansion, hold him hostage and wait for Leo to come back.

During this time, Carl is severely roughed up to the point his spine is damaged. 

When Leo comes back, he is pissed. You see, Carl has plants in every room and they tend to react to Leo’s mood. So when he’s pissed, the plants are influence by his rogue power breaking free of their constraints and growing monstrous in form, wrapping around the intruders in vines. 

Leo is this close to killing them when his father calls out for help. Leo does what he can to stabilise the damage done to his father, using what little healing magic he knows to reduce the swelling and directing his father’s cells on where they need to go, all the while rapidly muttering sorry’s, please forgive me’s over and over again.

Leo’s case is taken up by the Pa.In Bureau (short for Paranormal Investigation Bureau, because the guys who founded it thought it’d be funny to call the overarching law enforcement agency for the paranormal ‘pain’.)

Leo’s facing 7 years in Drakennoff for environmental terrorism, gross misuse of supernatural powers and creating and distributing unregulated magical substances. Leo manages to get a reduced sentence in a deal where he gave names and information and handed over his illegally acquired funds. 

His parents, all 3 of them, are not happy. Leo knows this. He knows he did a stupid thing that ended up seriously hurting a lot of people including his father. So Leo does the grown up thing and face the consequences. 

Leo does go to jail for 2 years before released out. 

Carl has been through the motions, coming to terms with his paraplegia, depression and anger at his son. He and Leo don’t talk anymore. 

Leo’s moms are mad. They understand that yes Leo has screwed up and wants to make up for it but goddammit they taught him the difference between right and wrong and he did something massively wrong! But they do try and make it work. 

The supernatural community is usually cool with ex-cons and criminals. They’re a pretty underground society with most of them having done something wrong in their lives. Meaning, it’s not hard for blind guy Leo with a prior for drugs to get a job. 

Leo actually changes his name after he gets out of prison. This is more for security so nothing is traced back to his family. He changes it to Leon Adair, not much of an extreme change but it’s there. 

He manages to get a job at an apothecary/cafe that caters to the supernatural and human. (The humans that end up are hipsters and health nuts). Leo is an unofficial doctors, specialising in blends, tisanes, poisons and, of course, plants. 

Some people do ask how he’s able to do what he does being blind. Leo says it’s years of practice and plants. 

Leo lives on the other side of Detroit, far, far, far from Carl Manfred and he figures he’ll never see him again like this. Well, hear him, since Leo can’t really do the seeing part well. 

He meets Markus by total accident. Leo is on the way to work and since the Bellini Paint Markus usually goes to is out of commission for remodelling, he had to go to the other branch store which is near why Leo works. 

Long story short, Markus is stopped by some anti-android protesters and is getting roughed by. He is that close to deviating when Leo steps in. Leo has no idea about Markus, All he knows is somebody is beating up an android and they’re in the way, he needs to get to work and get started working on the blends or otherwise he’ll be so overworked, he’ll cause an accident.  

So he pretends to be the struggling blind person who’s lost and they can’t find their helper android who he pretends is Markus. And these protesters, they’re not that much of an asshole (at least some of them) and let them through with apologies for causing trouble. 

“Thank you,” Markus says. 

“Shut the fuck up. You reek of thirium. It’s sickening.”

“You’re Leo Manfred, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” Leo walks away, slams the door to his apothecary. He knows the no androids sign is there, keeping the plastic outside. 

Unfortunately, the android now collects paints from the Bellini near where Leo works. Meaning Leo has to suffer weekly crossing with Markus who keeps talking to him for some reason. 

It’s not long until Carl shows up. It’s been a few years with no contact whatsoever. Carl’s in a different place now. He’s chill, he’s sorted through his stuff and he wants to reconnect with his son. 

So he shows up where Leo works. At first, Leo doesn’t know (being blind). Carl’s just watching him, not saying anything. It isn’t until Leo’s co-worker points out that an old man has been coming in with an android (that’s definitely not allowed) that he knows his dad’s there. 

And Leo just straight up acts like he can’t see him. Because he can’t. He pretends his dad isn’t there and keeps on working as he usually does. 

It’s until Carl’s had enough and punches Leo in the gut just as he’s closing up that Leo even acknowledges the man. 

“What was that for?!” Leo spits out. “Wait, no, don’t answer that. I already know.”

“Well, then you should apologise.”

Carl is scarily forgiving of Leo (as I said before, he’s had years to deal with his anger) but Leo is still a little hesitant because he knows what it’s like for be seriously physically damaged and caused that to another person. 

Markus is actually fascinated with Leo, well, his magic to be more precise. It’s just really cool. This is a thing with androids where they just really like magic. It’s a contrast to what they are and it can’t be explained. 

Imma just end it here. If you have requests for magic in Detroit or anything else, feel free to leave an ask in my box!

[dailyhealthynews]

We Tested Lululemon’s New Moon Drift Surf Collection

As the warm season approaches, you may feel an overwhelming sense of excitement as you begin planning your outdoor adventures. From researching breathtaking hikes in exotic locations to planning unique excursions for your upcoming trip to a tropical destination – it’s that special time of year when you can break away from the everyday norm and reconnect with … well, yourself . but in a much cooler environment than your hometown. During the pandemic, most of us missed this thrill last year, but if you are looking for a silver lining to quarantine periods, this is the important lesson to seize every opportunity to explore and experience the great wonders of nature. Mark Healey, a big wave surfing legend, freediver, and photographer, knows this well, and that’s why he was the perfect partner for a 10-piece Lululemon capsule collection that includes board shorts, a rashguard, and several other pieces that will have you all of your summer trips covered.

Lululemon Healey train to Beach Short

“We saw Mark’s product requirements as an opportunity for robust, in-house, and realistic testing,” said Ben Stubbington, SVP of Design and Concepts at Lululemon. We knew that if we could create something that could keep up with Mark, it would keep up with anyone. ”

As a Lululemon ambassador, Healey was no stranger to the brand’s outstanding offerings prior to this partnership. After a series of adventure trips with Stubbington and a few beers and some big laughs after running a SeaWheeze half marathon, the duo thought it would be a natural partnership to work together on a limited edition capsule collection, Moon Drift, that would reflect the active lifestyle of professional surfers from land to sea. Over a year and a half later, Healey and Stubbington sat down with Men’s Health to give us an exclusive look at the capsule collection – and best of all, we got to test the cool equipment for ourselves.

Lululemon

“I switch so often in my lifestyle,” says Healey. “I really move between worlds, from a boat to an airport to dinner. I really wanted clothes that could flow seamlessly between worlds. The parts had to have the right look, the right cut, the right weight, the right feel and of course the durability in order to withstand countless adventures. “

Lululemon Moon Drift Short

Healey lives the lifestyle most of us can only dream of. From Indonesia to Australia to Hawaii to Costa Rica, the professional surfer spends most of his year chasing swells around the globe, so he needs the right clothing with the versatility for activities such as fishing, surfing and hiking, as well as an elegant look for city food. When no two days are the same and the unexpected is always expected, Healey needs reliable gear that combines function with great style.

“Everything I work on is dictated by natural events, so I never had schedules,” says Healey. “If there is a huge storm and swell in South Africa, I have to go from Hawaii to South Africa. Nature has always led the dance for me, but I always say the most predictable thing in my life is the tides. You can go 50 years out and know what the tides are because it’s the gravitational pull of the moon. The moon is in charge. “

Lululemon

This was the starting point for Moon Drift, which also influenced the design aesthetic of the Capsule Collection. Stubbington and his team wanted to make sure this capsule didn’t feel like just another standard surf collection you’d expect from a clothing brand. Like Healey’s nomadic lifestyle, the Lululemon collection had to be exciting, up-and-coming, and unique.

“The stereotype of surf clothes is not what we wanted to play,” says Stubbington. “Mark came up with these pages full of inspiration and documentation, and we were overwhelmed because it was so closely related to what the design team loves from an aesthetic point of view, including high art. He had all these pictures of sky, land and sea, and we noticed that some of the pictures looked very similar to one of my paintings. ”

Lululemon Moon Drift short sleeve shirt

And that’s how Stubbington’s artwork became something wearable when the team applied the design to short-sleeved shirts and board shorts. But the aesthetics of the collection was just one piece of the puzzle. Healey’s job was to put pieces to the test, so the big wave surfer purposely traveled with only the Moon Drift collection in his pocket as he jetted around the world.

Every piece in the collection has been carefully thought out so Healey could have exactly what he needed for his travels. Details like mesh gussets and laser-cut designs made shirts and pants more breathable in everyday life, while fabrics with just the right amount of stretch offered the UV protection Healey needed for days in the sun. The Lululemon design team even made sure to add features like large secure pockets so Healey could easily get from one activity to the next with all of the small gear he needed. Most importantly, the fabrics had to be abrasion-resistant to withstand the elements, and even the sharp clothes of Baby Goat, a goat Healey rescued on Maui after she found her mother abandoned her shortly after she was born. Yes, we are talking about goat-safe shelf life.

Lululemon

“Goats can be very destructive and he destroyed so many things that I own,” says Healey. “He grabbed my board shorts while they were hanging up. I didn’t rinse them off after surfing, so salty goats loved everything, and he chewed and chewed and chewed on them. Goats don’t have teeth in the front, but they have those sharp teeth that can cut through anything in the back. At first I thought, ‘Hey, beat it!’ And then I realized that this is perfect for testing the durability of the board shorts, so I just let him go on it. “

But durability isn’t the only reason Healey makes its mark on these boardshorts.

“I love the material in these boardshorts,” says Healey. “I’ve surfed in board shorts all my life. I’ve worked with top surf brands in the past and was familiar with developing board shorts and it’s a completely different feeling. It is more comfortable to wear and heavier than other board shorts. Plus, it’s just the right amount of stretch. It reminds me a bit of old school board shorts in terms of the seat, which isn’t overly stretchy – a classic feel with the latest in comfort. “

Lululemon

Another favorite for Healey is the rashguard, which he claims is the best rashguard he has ever worn. In addition to the ideal fit, which hugs the body and reduces friction, the rashguard is thicker in the front so that the sea wind does not dissipate the heat from the body when you are sitting on your board, and a lighter, more breathable feeling in the back to give off excess heat.

Surf gear aside, there are a number of pieces that every man would want to incorporate into his wardrobe, even if you don’t plan on extreme trips in the near future. When I flew from New York to Los Angeles to chat with Stubbington and Healey, I tested the Moon Drift Pant and can honestly say they have become my new travel pants. The mesh gussets in the inner leg area provide additional stretch and breathability, and there are plenty of pockets for the small valuables that I need when flying. It even has snaps to taper the bottom of the legs if you want to make sure your pants don’t get caught on anything. And for complete comfort on the upper half of my body when traveling, I paired these pants with the Healey Train to Beach Hoodie, which had the coverage I wanted on my flight with a lightweight, breathable feel so I wouldn’t overheat.

Whether you’re chasing the waves in South Africa or just chilling out with a few buddies on your local beach, the capsule collection hits everything you could want in your summer wardrobe. So, as you prepare for your upcoming summer adventures, you may want to snag a few Moon Drift parts to make sure nothing is stopping you from getting the most of your time in the sun.

Buy the Lululemon x Mark Healey Moon Drift Collection here:

Lululemon Moon Drift Board Shorts 9 “

Lululemon Healey train to the beach short sleeve

Lululemon Moon Drift Short 8 “

Lululemon Moon Drift short sleeve shirt

Lululemon Moon Drift Long Sleeve Shirt

Lululemon Moon Drift rashguard with long sleeves

Lululemon Healey Train to the Beach Hoodie

Lululemon Moon Drift Pants 30 “

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source https://dailyhealthynews.ca/we-tested-lululemons-new-moon-drift-surf-collection/

[josephkitchen0]

Take Care and VOTE

Is there really anything else I can say? I am heartbroken over the senseless losses, which I was going to mention, but then I realized that this list is too long, and growing. Take care. I think of my family, my friends, and all I want is for them to be safe, to have a chance to see their dreams come true, to enjoy adventures, to make something good. I think of neighbors, the cashier at the market, my hygienist, and I want them to be alright, too. Really, everyone. Everyone deserves good health, support in hard times, encouragement when they are close to achieving goals, or when they are too close to giving up. I don't say we can have all of this, all the time, but I want to live in a place and time when racism, sexism, classism, hate, violence, oppression, and cruelty are unacceptable: Period. Respect and kindness, education, clean air and water, healthcare, and leadership that echoes the compassion and generosity I see in my own family, in my neighbors, and friends... that's what I want. I am keeping my expectations high, and I am voting. Only when it's clean... the cats love to drink the water I have set out for painting. And it doesn't matter if I use a tall jar, with a narrower opening, because they just dip their long arms and paw the water out. So, part of my routine includes waiting for them to come around to lap up the water before I shoo them away and start painting. Chickens and goats love pumpkin. And it's good for them. I like bringing them their own pumpkin, because of how happy it makes them, and because they peck at it, carving their own Jack-o-lantern, which can get pretty spooky looking. Fall treats are growing all over the garden. We have citrus ripening, and guavas all ready to pick. We even got some decent pomegranates this year, which is delightful. Eggs... not so much. The hens are molting, and they're in the autumn of their years, so we may have seen the last egg from this flock. Can I confess? I'm not sure I'll be getting chicks, not anytime soon. We've been plagued by stick fleas, and my poor hens suffer. Maybe I feel like I am in the autumn of my years, too. Being a city farmer takes oomph, and I don't feel perky, the way I did 16 years ago. Part of me feels sad about this, and part of me anticipates some relief. What I am really hoping is for a second wind, hopeful sparks of inspiration, and the eradication of all fleas, so that in a year, or two, the idea of raising baby chicks is irresistible. He looks so attentive, like he might be hanging on my every word. I think Chango found his second wind. He's going upstairs, again. He stopped doing that all summer, and I thought it was just another sign of his years. But we saw him actually dash up the stairs, and even crazier... he bolted out the porch door, like a youthful, mischievous cat. He didn't go far, but seemed to revel in his outdoor excursion. We haven't seen him make this move in a long time. Chango El Cubano is 18 years and 7 months old. He's such a dear old man cat. Daniel came to school with me. It was so much fun sharing watercolor class with a friend. We met Daniel when my cousin lived with us... back in 1997, and Daniel would cut Gabe's hair, then he started cutting William and Alex's hair, sometimes he'd cut Max's hair. It's such a nice part of being settled in an area that we can look back and recall connections with people, and appreciate that those connections grow, evolve, endure. Daniel might join our class when we take a trip to the Zoo. In preparation for the field trip, we had a lesson in sketching animals. I've tried to describe the discomfort of that lesson. At home I can sketch, but slowly, and with the option to erase, erase, erase. In class, Kris and Stan prodded us to be quick, work in pen, loosen up! I don't know which is the worst obstacle to confront: Lack of skill, or Pride. I felt so uncomfortable and cringy watching my misshapen creatures appear. But. Maybe it was fun? Maybe, with more practice, this could be alright? When we placed all of our quick sketches, with paint, on a table, the funny animals, the wild lines... well they looked good. They looked artful, expressive, sincere, and comfortably weird. Trillian, our bird on a wire. She roosts there. I don't know why, or how. I've seen her, and company, roost up there through storms, with hard wind and driving rain. Mad hens. This hollyhock sprout went to my friend Yanina. I hope it's happy being transplanted. I made a rash choice and just dug it up. It's got plenty of root, and certainly seemed vigorous enough to handle the move. From my room, I can see the street where Yanina lives, and I often take pictures of that view, the neighborhood across the way, the back country, and distant peaks. And from my friend's street, we can see our Bird House. I asked Maria to turn on our balcony light, so we could see our home, through trees and the marine layer, at sunset. After we brought the hollyhock to Yanina's, we went walking, window shopping. Friday night and out with William, Alex, Max, and Maria. We had no agenda, no plan, and it was one of the nicest outings of recent memory. It may be "too soon," but the shops are putting up their holiday sparkle, and I am just fine with it. I am more than fine with the windows, and displays at Anthropologie. I know their store employees assemble and add to many of the creative installations in the store. This one delights me. Gah! The birds, the mice... oversized coloring pages! And deer. I'll be back to take deer pictures, smell candles, gaze at plates, and sigh, more. What's he building in there? I think WAMMO can recite about every line of Tom Waits' spooky recording. "What's that tune he's always whistling? What's he building in there? We have a right to know." We know, this time. Geoff's building custom shelves that hold storage containers. Floor to ceiling, inspired by a set-up Adam Savage has. We know he spent his entire weekend, blissfully engrossed in designing, welding, sorting. It's not a playhouse for the children. We crack up about this song, and we love our new workshop. Building, baking, making art, finishing homework, folding clothes, connecting with friends, gazing out windows and enjoying the views... we are doing these, and more. Take care, friends. Take care, and vote. Take Care and VOTE was originally posted by All About Chickens

[captainblogger100posts]

Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends

Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends http://www.nature-business.com/nature-death-at-the-crossroads-a-ragged-limo-an-anxious-driver-and-17-friends/

Nature

SCHOHARIE, N.Y. — It was supposed to be a surprise.

Axel Steenburg had been planning a birthday party for his wife, Amy, for a while. But the ever excitable Mr. Steenburg was notoriously bad at keeping secrets and, somehow, she found out.

“He would try to hide it from you and then you would see him biting his cheek. It was so obvious,” his mother, Janet Steenburg, said. “And then he would say, ‘You’re not going to believe what I have for you.’”

Mr. Steenburg coordinated a passel of friends through a group chat, arranging for a tour and tasting at a popular upstate brewery and renting a party bus to make sure that anyone drinking would not be driving. He even set aside two spare bedrooms in his home in Amsterdam, N.Y., a small city northwest of Albany, in case someone was not sober enough to drive home. But the bus broke down before picking them up, so he booked whatever he could find at the last-minute: a white stretch limousine.

It fit 18. They were 17. That would do.

Behind the wheel of the 2001 limousine was a husband holding down a part-time job as a driver for a company whose vehicles made him worry for his safety.

About 25 miles to the south, a professor and his father-in-law were out celebrating a family wedding and pulled over at a roadside country store to take a break from driving.

All 20 would soon be dead.

Their lives were cut short in a violent limousine crash in Schoharie, N.Y., this month, that has left in its wake a collection of mourning families, a clutch of young orphans and state and federal officials trying to piece together what went wrong.

Image

Nauman Hussain, left, the operator of the limousine company that provided the limousine in the crash, was charged with criminally negligent homicide.CreditNathaniel Brooks for The New York Times

On Wednesday, the operator of the limousine company, Nauman Hussain, was arrested by the State Police and charged with criminally negligent homicide as a result of renting out a vehicle — a hulking 2001 Ford Excursion — even though it had repeatedly failed inspections, including of its brakes, and had been deemed not road worthy by state officials.

Mr. Hussain, 28, pleaded not guilty. Just 10 miles away, hundreds of people filled a gymnasium in Schoharie to mourn the dead and families throughout the area planned funerals.

The toll of the crash has been particularly acute because of the connection between the 17 young people — all 24 to 34 years old — who had climbed into the limousine, bound for a Finger Lakes brewery, Ommegang, a popular attraction known for its bands and its beer.

They were a tight-knit gang of friends and family: Among them were four sisters, two brothers and two sets of newlyweds. They hung out regularly, gathering for game nights on Saturdays at Axel and Amy Steenburg’s home on a peaceful street overlooking a reservoir in Amsterdam, a Mohawk River city about 25 miles north of the crash site. Ms. Steenburg would have turned 30 on Wednesday.

Why the limousine ended up at that spot — speeding down a mile-long hill, across a busy highway, clipping a parked car and hitting two pedestrians before careening into an overgrown creek bed — is one of many mysteries. The brewery was far to the west of the crash site.

Whatever the reason, it was at that intersection that the lives of the limousine’s passengers, its driver and the two pedestrians collided, a random convergence that resulted in the country’s worst transportation-related accident in nearly a decade.

Image

Axel J. and Amy Steenburg

A last-minute change of plan

That Axel Steenburg would take charge of planning his wife’s birthday was no surprise, according to a neighbor, Missy Davison, who had watched with sweet awe as the young Steenburg couple had nested in the modest two-story home on Pleasant Avenue, next to Bunn Creek.

“They were so ambitious and so in love,” said Ms. Davison, who recalled the young couple moving in two years ago and immediately helping neighbors with errands. “They were going places.”

The couple had married over the summer and their social set was guided by blood — Mr. Steenburg’s brother, Rich, was also a close friend, and Amy had three sisters in the area — and the type of life’s misadventures that bond young people. Ms. Davison remembers a group of Mr. Steenburg’s friends trying mightily to hoist a king-size mattress through a second-floor window. (They succeeded, eventually.) There were also quiet evenings watching deer and wild turkeys in a fenced area around the reservoir across from their home.

On Saturday, the plan was for guests to meet at the couple’s house and take a party bus from there. But at some point that day, Mr. Steenburg received word that the bus had broken down, so he scrambled to find an alternative. He ended up booking a ride from a business called Prestige Limousine, which operated out of a budget motel in Wilton, N.Y. It was run by Mr. Hussain.

When the replacement vehicle showed up, it was a disappointment: a ragged stretch limousine, an S.U.V. on steroids, so dismal that its owner didn’t care if people smoked in the back. Ms. Davison remembers the limousine idling in front of the Steenburg’s house shortly before 1:30 p.m., about a half an hour before the accident.

“I thought it was a wedding,” Ms. Davison said. “I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

Image

Scott Lisinicchia

The limousine driver’s name was Scott T. Lisinicchia. He lived in a quiet wooded neighborhood south of the resort town of Lake George, N.Y.

Mr. Lisinicchia, 53, had suffered both tragedies and self-inflicted wounds: his brother, Anthony, had died in 2017, at 42; Mr. Lisinicchia had had two drug-related arrests, making his own life more difficult. The job driving for Prestige was part-time, and perilous, according to his wife, Kim, who told CBS News that he worried about the safety of its fleet.

“There were a few times where he told me, like I overheard him say, ‘I’m not going to drive this, like this, you need to give me another car,’” Ms. Lisinicchia told CBS.

State officials have said that Mr. Lisinicchia did not have the proper license to drive the limousine involved in the crash. But Ms. Lisinicchia disputed that he was unqualified, saying he had driven tractor-trailers. “Even if he didn’t have the proper license,” she said, “this still would’ve happened.”

Image

A candlelight vigil was held in Amsterdam, N.Y., where many of the victims of the crash lived.CreditStephanie Keith/Getty Images

Before the crash, the Hough family’s ‘best day ever’

Brian Hough dug rocks. An assistant professor of geology at the State University of New York at Oswego, Mr. Hough, 46, taught courses about all things archaeological — stratigraphy, geology and paleontology — but also liked getting outdoors: hiking, biking, and yes, rock climbing.

“This past summer was a great one for his family,” his mother, Artra Hough, said. “He and his wife and son went to the Grand Canyon and other national parks out in the West. They were climbing on rocks, going down into the canyon — all the things you do at Yellowstone.”

He also had a way with children, according to his brother, J.T. Hough. In August, J.T. Hough had visited his older brother’s home in Moravia, N.Y., near Syracuse, and Brian Hough had taken the family to the Museum of the Earth in Ithaca, N.Y.

“My kids, they all loved their Uncle Brian,” Mr. Hough said. “He was one of the best uncles you could ever possibly imagine — always the goof ball, wrestling with his nieces and nephews, pretending to be Frankenstein, a real kid at heart.”

During that trip, Brian Hough mentioned a family wedding coming up in October, his wife’s cousin getting married nearby.

Image

Brian HoughCreditJim Russell/State University of New York at Oswego

So on that Saturday, Mr. Hough, his wife, Jaclyn Schnurr, and their eight-year-old son, Ben, along with other relatives, were caravaning in several cars; J.T Hough said Ms. Schnurr told him that the family “was having the best day ever.”

Just before 2 p.m. the group decided “to stop and stretch their legs and maybe get something to eat,” said Mr. Hough’s mother. They parked near the Apple Barrel Country Store, which was bustling with visitors who had flocked upstate for its scenic fall foliage and apple-picking.

The red-roof country store sits at the intersection of Route 30 and Route 30A, a T-shaped junction that had long unnerved residents as a frightening stretch to navigate. Route 30 is downhill as it veers toward Route 30A, a busy byway that runs east to west. There is nothing but a stop sign to slow down motorists.

Ms. Schnurr’s brother took Ben into the store. Mr. Hough lingered near the car with his father-in-law, James Schnurr, 70. Ms. Schnurr was standing nearby.

Up the hill, a white limousine began its descent.

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From left, Allison King, Abigail Jackson, Amy Steenburg and Mary Dyson.CreditVanessa Wheeler and Eric Rustin/All Occasions Photography

Growing apprehension inside the limo

When the 17 friends began piling into the limousine and cramming into its tan leather seats under its mirrored roof, they never fathomed that the sunny afternoon would be their last.

Just the night before, Rich Steenburg had gotten together with friends in his trailer home for a Friday night ritual — eating pizza and playing Dungeons and Dragons. His wife, Kim, had planned on going to the outing on Saturday, but stayed behind after falling ill while babysitting her niece. The couple had recently been approved for a house and were closing the deal next month.

“Rich was so in love with the house,” his mother said. “When he found out they got approved they were so ecstatic.”

Image

Patrick K. Cushing and Amanda D. HalseCreditKarina Halse, via Associated Press

The day before the crash, Patrick Cushing, who played for Team USA dodge ball, and his girlfriend Amanda Halse, a waitress at a restaurant in a senior living community, had watched the Red Sox beat their beloved Yankees in the playoffs. They had been looking forward to the postseason rivalry — and the trip on Saturday, too, his father, Kevin Cushing, said.

“Both my son Patrick and his girlfriend Amanda took every day as an opportunity for an adventure,” he said.

Rachael Cavosie and Amanda Rivenburg, friends of the group, were also in the limousine. Matthew Coons, who had competed in fitness competitions with Axel Steenburg, had joined and brought his girlfriend, Savannah Bursese, who was saving up money to pursue a law degree in Texas.

Image

Amanda RivenburgCreditCathi Butryn/Living Resources Corporation, via Associated Press

Amy Steenburg’s inseparable sisters — Mary Dyson, Abigail Jackson and Allison King — were also in the car, along with two of their spouses, Robert Dyson and Adam Jackson.

Ms. King, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic about the celebration. She had been abstaining from drinking to support her fiancé’s decision to give up alcohol, her mother, Linda King, said.

“Allison wasn’t crazy about going,” said Mrs. King, who saw her daughter for the last time that Friday afternoon when she dropped off a dozen eggs from her chicken coop.

And Michael Ukaj, the quiet one of the group, was also in the limousine — coincidently, it was his 34th birthday.

Image

Michael Ukaj

An avid collector of arcade games, Mr. Ukaj had spent part of the previous night playing on a pinball machine he had bought for himself as a birthday present. Mr. Ukaj, a former Marine, had driven down from the forested foothills of Adirondack State Park in Caroga Lake, where he lived alone in a house that he had inherited from his grandmother and was fixing up.

“One thing that Mike was is responsible,” his brother, Jeremy Ashton, said. “He would always throw in the caveat that if you’re going to drive don’t drink. If you’re going to drink don’t drive.”

So they didn’t.

Yet they knew nothing about the limo’s failed inspections or about its owner, a man with a checkered history, including a past life as a government informant. They had no way of knowing that the Ford Excursion had been listed for sale on Craigslist for $9,000 just two days before. The listing read, “Dot Ready full serviced,” referring to the Department of Transportation.

But they swiftly found reasons for apprehension as the limousine rattled south from Amsterdam, past the beat-up barns along the winding curves of Route 30.

Image

Erin R. and Shane T. McGowanCreditValerie Lynne Abeling, via Associated Press

Erin McGowan, who was there with her new husband, Shane McGowan, texted her best friend at 1:37 p.m., about 18 minutes before the crash. The texts were jocular, but in retrospect eerie. It was no “luxury limo” and it was making a racket, she wrote.

“The motor is making everyone deaf,” wrote Ms. McGowan, adding five emojis of a grinning face shedding tears from laughing so hard. “When we get to brewery we will all b deaf.”

Minutes passed and some of the messages sent from the limousine only grew more ominous.

At 1:40 p.m., 15 minutes before the crash, Allison King texted her fiancé.

“She said the brakes were burning and they were coasting,” her mother said.

Four minutes before the fatal accident, Ms. Jackson texted her mother-in-law who was taking care of her daughters, Archer, 4, and Elle, 16 months.

“She was checking to see how the girls were doing,” according to her mother.

The stretch of road heading toward the site of the accident is an unbroken, mile-long decline from the top of a ridge north of Schoharie. A family farm sits at the crest, with a pond and a paddle boat. Signs warn about its steepness and no trucks are allowed. About halfway down, the road narrows and curves.

Traveling down might take a minute at the posted speed limit: 55 miles per hour. But it is easy to pick up speed — brake lights are on for most drivers going down the hill. There’s a final turn where the Apple Barrel comes into sight, a steady line of traffic on Route 30A going east and west. There is an oversize stop sign, to help prevent accidents.

But on that day, the limousine never stopped.

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The approach to Route 30A from Route 30. Residents have long considered the intersection dangerous.CreditKyle Adams for The New York Times

Waiting for news

Sometime after 2 p.m., Linda King saw a breaking news message on her Facebook feed about the limousine accident.

“But they said the limo was carrying a wedding party so we weren’t immediately concerned,” her husband, Tom King, said.

Hours later, investigators flooded the quiet residential street where Axel and Amy Steenburg lived. Under moonlight, they tried to match the license plates of the many cars outside their home with the victims killed inside the limousine that lay ravaged in a ravine, some 25 miles away.

Inside the couple’s white clapboard home, Lady, their Bull mastiff, waited for her owners.

Two gifts sat on the kitchen counter. They were Mr. Steenburg’s last unspoiled surprises: two bottles of Amy’s favorite wine and a birthday card, all strategically positioned so they would have been the first things Amy saw when they returned to the house that night.

The unopened bottles are still there.

Susan Beachy contributed reporting.

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/13/nyregion/limo-crash-upstate-ny.html |

Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends, in 2018-10-13 20:41:59

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Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends

Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends http://www.nature-business.com/nature-death-at-the-crossroads-a-ragged-limo-an-anxious-driver-and-17-friends/

Nature

SCHOHARIE, N.Y. — It was supposed to be a surprise.

Axel Steenburg had been planning a birthday party for his wife, Amy, for a while. But the ever excitable Mr. Steenburg was notoriously bad at keeping secrets and, somehow, she found out.

“He would try to hide it from you and then you would see him biting his cheek. It was so obvious,” his mother, Janet Steenburg, said. “And then he would say, ‘You’re not going to believe what I have for you.’”

Mr. Steenburg coordinated a passel of friends through a group chat, arranging for a tour and tasting at a popular upstate brewery and renting a party bus to make sure that anyone drinking would not be driving. He even set aside two spare bedrooms in his home in Amsterdam, N.Y., a small city northwest of Albany, in case someone was not sober enough to drive home. But the bus broke down before picking them up, so he booked whatever he could find at the last-minute: a white stretch limousine.

It fit 18. They were 17. That would do.

Behind the wheel of the 2001 limousine was a husband holding down a part-time job as a driver for a company whose vehicles made him worry for his safety.

About 25 miles to the south, a professor and his father-in-law were out celebrating a family wedding and pulled over at a roadside country store to take a break from driving.

All 20 would soon be dead.

Their lives were cut short in a violent limousine crash in Schoharie, N.Y., this month, that has left in its wake a collection of mourning families, a clutch of young orphans and state and federal officials trying to piece together what went wrong.

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Nauman Hussain, left, the operator of the limousine company that provided the limousine in the crash, was charged with criminally negligent homicide.CreditNathaniel Brooks for The New York Times

On Wednesday, the operator of the limousine company, Nauman Hussain, was arrested by the State Police and charged with criminally negligent homicide as a result of renting out a vehicle — a hulking 2001 Ford Excursion — even though it had repeatedly failed inspections, including of its brakes, and had been deemed not road worthy by state officials.

Mr. Hussain, 28, pleaded not guilty. Just 10 miles away, hundreds of people filled a gymnasium in Schoharie to mourn the dead and families throughout the area planned funerals.

The toll of the crash has been particularly acute because of the connection between the 17 young people — all 24 to 34 years old — who had climbed into the limousine, bound for a Finger Lakes brewery, Ommegang, a popular attraction known for its bands and its beer.

They were a tight-knit gang of friends and family: Among them were four sisters, two brothers and two sets of newlyweds. They hung out regularly, gathering for game nights on Saturdays at Axel and Amy Steenburg’s home on a peaceful street overlooking a reservoir in Amsterdam, a Mohawk River city about 25 miles north of the crash site. Ms. Steenburg would have turned 30 on Wednesday.

Why the limousine ended up at that spot — speeding down a mile-long hill, across a busy highway, clipping a parked car and hitting two pedestrians before careening into an overgrown creek bed — is one of many mysteries. The brewery was far to the west of the crash site.

Whatever the reason, it was at that intersection that the lives of the limousine’s passengers, its driver and the two pedestrians collided, a random convergence that resulted in the country’s worst transportation-related accident in nearly a decade.

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Axel J. and Amy Steenburg

A last-minute change of plan

That Axel Steenburg would take charge of planning his wife’s birthday was no surprise, according to a neighbor, Missy Davison, who had watched with sweet awe as the young Steenburg couple had nested in the modest two-story home on Pleasant Avenue, next to Bunn Creek.

“They were so ambitious and so in love,” said Ms. Davison, who recalled the young couple moving in two years ago and immediately helping neighbors with errands. “They were going places.”

The couple had married over the summer and their social set was guided by blood — Mr. Steenburg’s brother, Rich, was also a close friend, and Amy had three sisters in the area — and the type of life’s misadventures that bond young people. Ms. Davison remembers a group of Mr. Steenburg’s friends trying mightily to hoist a king-size mattress through a second-floor window. (They succeeded, eventually.) There were also quiet evenings watching deer and wild turkeys in a fenced area around the reservoir across from their home.

On Saturday, the plan was for guests to meet at the couple’s house and take a party bus from there. But at some point that day, Mr. Steenburg received word that the bus had broken down, so he scrambled to find an alternative. He ended up booking a ride from a business called Prestige Limousine, which operated out of a budget motel in Wilton, N.Y. It was run by Mr. Hussain.

When the replacement vehicle showed up, it was a disappointment: a ragged stretch limousine, an S.U.V. on steroids, so dismal that its owner didn’t care if people smoked in the back. Ms. Davison remembers the limousine idling in front of the Steenburg’s house shortly before 1:30 p.m., about a half an hour before the accident.

“I thought it was a wedding,” Ms. Davison said. “I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

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Scott Lisinicchia

The limousine driver’s name was Scott T. Lisinicchia. He lived in a quiet wooded neighborhood south of the resort town of Lake George, N.Y.

Mr. Lisinicchia, 53, had suffered both tragedies and self-inflicted wounds: his brother, Anthony, had died in 2017, at 42; Mr. Lisinicchia had had two drug-related arrests, making his own life more difficult. The job driving for Prestige was part-time, and perilous, according to his wife, Kim, who told CBS News that he worried about the safety of its fleet.

“There were a few times where he told me, like I overheard him say, ‘I’m not going to drive this, like this, you need to give me another car,’” Ms. Lisinicchia told CBS.

State officials have said that Mr. Lisinicchia did not have the proper license to drive the limousine involved in the crash. But Ms. Lisinicchia disputed that he was unqualified, saying he had driven tractor-trailers. “Even if he didn’t have the proper license,” she said, “this still would’ve happened.”

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A candlelight vigil was held in Amsterdam, N.Y., where many of the victims of the crash lived.CreditStephanie Keith/Getty Images

Before the crash, the Hough family’s ‘best day ever’

Brian Hough dug rocks. An assistant professor of geology at the State University of New York at Oswego, Mr. Hough, 46, taught courses about all things archaeological — stratigraphy, geology and paleontology — but also liked getting outdoors: hiking, biking, and yes, rock climbing.

“This past summer was a great one for his family,” his mother, Artra Hough, said. “He and his wife and son went to the Grand Canyon and other national parks out in the West. They were climbing on rocks, going down into the canyon — all the things you do at Yellowstone.”

He also had a way with children, according to his brother, J.T. Hough. In August, J.T. Hough had visited his older brother’s home in Moravia, N.Y., near Syracuse, and Brian Hough had taken the family to the Museum of the Earth in Ithaca, N.Y.

“My kids, they all loved their Uncle Brian,” Mr. Hough said. “He was one of the best uncles you could ever possibly imagine — always the goof ball, wrestling with his nieces and nephews, pretending to be Frankenstein, a real kid at heart.”

During that trip, Brian Hough mentioned a family wedding coming up in October, his wife’s cousin getting married nearby.

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Brian HoughCreditJim Russell/State University of New York at Oswego

So on that Saturday, Mr. Hough, his wife, Jaclyn Schnurr, and their eight-year-old son, Ben, along with other relatives, were caravaning in several cars; J.T Hough said Ms. Schnurr told him that the family “was having the best day ever.”

Just before 2 p.m. the group decided “to stop and stretch their legs and maybe get something to eat,” said Mr. Hough’s mother. They parked near the Apple Barrel Country Store, which was bustling with visitors who had flocked upstate for its scenic fall foliage and apple-picking.

The red-roof country store sits at the intersection of Route 30 and Route 30A, a T-shaped junction that had long unnerved residents as a frightening stretch to navigate. Route 30 is downhill as it veers toward Route 30A, a busy byway that runs east to west. There is nothing but a stop sign to slow down motorists.

Ms. Schnurr’s brother took Ben into the store. Mr. Hough lingered near the car with his father-in-law, James Schnurr, 70. Ms. Schnurr was standing nearby.

Up the hill, a white limousine began its descent.

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From left, Allison King, Abigail Jackson, Amy Steenburg and Mary Dyson.CreditVanessa Wheeler and Eric Rustin/All Occasions Photography

Growing apprehension inside the limo

When the 17 friends began piling into the limousine and cramming into its tan leather seats under its mirrored roof, they never fathomed that the sunny afternoon would be their last.

Just the night before, Rich Steenburg had gotten together with friends in his trailer home for a Friday night ritual — eating pizza and playing Dungeons and Dragons. His wife, Kim, had planned on going to the outing on Saturday, but stayed behind after falling ill while babysitting her niece. The couple had recently been approved for a house and were closing the deal next month.

“Rich was so in love with the house,” his mother said. “When he found out they got approved they were so ecstatic.”

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Patrick K. Cushing and Amanda D. HalseCreditKarina Halse, via Associated Press

The day before the crash, Patrick Cushing, who played for Team USA dodge ball, and his girlfriend Amanda Halse, a waitress at a restaurant in a senior living community, had watched the Red Sox beat their beloved Yankees in the playoffs. They had been looking forward to the postseason rivalry — and the trip on Saturday, too, his father, Kevin Cushing, said.

“Both my son Patrick and his girlfriend Amanda took every day as an opportunity for an adventure,” he said.

Rachael Cavosie and Amanda Rivenburg, friends of the group, were also in the limousine. Matthew Coons, who had competed in fitness competitions with Axel Steenburg, had joined and brought his girlfriend, Savannah Bursese, who was saving up money to pursue a law degree in Texas.

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Amanda RivenburgCreditCathi Butryn/Living Resources Corporation, via Associated Press

Amy Steenburg’s inseparable sisters — Mary Dyson, Abigail Jackson and Allison King — were also in the car, along with two of their spouses, Robert Dyson and Adam Jackson.

Ms. King, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic about the celebration. She had been abstaining from drinking to support her fiancé’s decision to give up alcohol, her mother, Linda King, said.

“Allison wasn’t crazy about going,” said Mrs. King, who saw her daughter for the last time that Friday afternoon when she dropped off a dozen eggs from her chicken coop.

And Michael Ukaj, the quiet one of the group, was also in the limousine — coincidently, it was his 34th birthday.

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Michael Ukaj

An avid collector of arcade games, Mr. Ukaj had spent part of the previous night playing on a pinball machine he had bought for himself as a birthday present. Mr. Ukaj, a former Marine, had driven down from the forested foothills of Adirondack State Park in Caroga Lake, where he lived alone in a house that he had inherited from his grandmother and was fixing up.

“One thing that Mike was is responsible,” his brother, Jeremy Ashton, said. “He would always throw in the caveat that if you’re going to drive don’t drink. If you’re going to drink don’t drive.”

So they didn’t.

Yet they knew nothing about the limo’s failed inspections or about its owner, a man with a checkered history, including a past life as a government informant. They had no way of knowing that the Ford Excursion had been listed for sale on Craigslist for $9,000 just two days before. The listing read, “Dot Ready full serviced,” referring to the Department of Transportation.

But they swiftly found reasons for apprehension as the limousine rattled south from Amsterdam, past the beat-up barns along the winding curves of Route 30.

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Erin R. and Shane T. McGowanCreditValerie Lynne Abeling, via Associated Press

Erin McGowan, who was there with her new husband, Shane McGowan, texted her best friend at 1:37 p.m., about 18 minutes before the crash. The texts were jocular, but in retrospect eerie. It was no “luxury limo” and it was making a racket, she wrote.

“The motor is making everyone deaf,” wrote Ms. McGowan, adding five emojis of a grinning face shedding tears from laughing so hard. “When we get to brewery we will all b deaf.”

Minutes passed and some of the messages sent from the limousine only grew more ominous.

At 1:40 p.m., 15 minutes before the crash, Allison King texted her fiancé.

“She said the brakes were burning and they were coasting,” her mother said.

Four minutes before the fatal accident, Ms. Jackson texted her mother-in-law who was taking care of her daughters, Archer, 4, and Elle, 16 months.

“She was checking to see how the girls were doing,” according to her mother.

The stretch of road heading toward the site of the accident is an unbroken, mile-long decline from the top of a ridge north of Schoharie. A family farm sits at the crest, with a pond and a paddle boat. Signs warn about its steepness and no trucks are allowed. About halfway down, the road narrows and curves.

Traveling down might take a minute at the posted speed limit: 55 miles per hour. But it is easy to pick up speed — brake lights are on for most drivers going down the hill. There’s a final turn where the Apple Barrel comes into sight, a steady line of traffic on Route 30A going east and west. There is an oversize stop sign, to help prevent accidents.

But on that day, the limousine never stopped.

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The approach to Route 30A from Route 30. Residents have long considered the intersection dangerous.CreditKyle Adams for The New York Times

Waiting for news

Sometime after 2 p.m., Linda King saw a breaking news message on her Facebook feed about the limousine accident.

“But they said the limo was carrying a wedding party so we weren’t immediately concerned,” her husband, Tom King, said.

Hours later, investigators flooded the quiet residential street where Axel and Amy Steenburg lived. Under moonlight, they tried to match the license plates of the many cars outside their home with the victims killed inside the limousine that lay ravaged in a ravine, some 25 miles away.

Inside the couple’s white clapboard home, Lady, their Bull mastiff, waited for her owners.

Two gifts sat on the kitchen counter. They were Mr. Steenburg’s last unspoiled surprises: two bottles of Amy’s favorite wine and a birthday card, all strategically positioned so they would have been the first things Amy saw when they returned to the house that night.

The unopened bottles are still there.

Susan Beachy contributed reporting.

Read More | https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/13/nyregion/limo-crash-upstate-ny.html |

Nature Death at the Crossroads: A Ragged Limo, an Anxious Driver and 17 Friends, in 2018-10-13 20:41:59