#took them in to see if they could find the source or entry point.

[fjordfolk]

i love the insistence on whether danish swedish farmdogs are still kept for their "original working purpose" because it's not like they're a hunting breed adapted to a specific way of hunting moose or ptarmigan in a specific environment or herding dogs for specific livestock. do they still live around people voluntarily? yes. do they still bark at strangers? yep. kill things small enough to be interpreted as vermin? sure thing! 100% true to their ancestors and as much of a working dog as they ever were.

[night-zaveri]

Marble Hornets may be 15 years old but I'm gonna tag this as spoilers for my friends who I've introduced to the series yesterday

I don't think we as fans realize how selfless Alex was throughout the series - especially considering everything that was happening.

First evidence of this was him trying to move away from it all. I mean, to our knowledge that town was where Alex grew up. Its where all his friends were, all his memories were made, and he abandoned it all to get away from the operator. This could be excused as him trying to run away from his 'stalker', but then comes the point of the tapes.

At some point, Alex recognized that this entity stalking him was not human - so what would moving away do to fix that? But he knew it had some connection to the tapes based on his reaction to Amy questioning his possession of a camera and Alex panicking, asking her to get rid of it in one of the entries. That happened ~3 years after everything and things seemed to have been getting better for him; Amy pointing out that he was acting weird, implying that at some point Alex began acting more like himself, and interacting with a friend from back home, Seth. But even before that, he tried to get rid of the tapes. Alex was clearly at one point passionate about Marble Hornets, so to burn all of his progress would have been an arduous task - but still one he was willing to take if it meant cutting the Operator off from everyone else.

And that really emphasizes the relationship Alex had with Jay. Yes, it took some arguing, but Alex didn't have to give Jay the tapes. He had to have trusted him to an extent to let that transaction take place. "Oh," I hear you ask "But maybe it was just an easier way to get rid of the tapes so Alex could leave sooner" I hear you say from beyond the screen, but I ask you, consider the following. Alex had been keeping up with Jay through the channel upon finding out its existence, and upon seeing Jay was beginning to get involved with the Operator, Alex tracked down his apartment and tried to burn the tapes - thus, in his mind, cutting off Jay from the entity now stalking him. Note: Alex knew Jay was not in the apartment at the time of the fire, there was no attempt on Jay's life.

Then, upon seeing that Jay was still insistent on solving this 'mystery', Alex came to him but kept Jay at arms length, willing to help and hoping to find answers in return about Amy's whereabouts after the previously discussed entry. I hear you cry once again through the screen "But when he and Jay first met up in the abandoned shack, Alex had a knife on him" and thus I must implore you remember that totheark, most notably Brian, had been terrorizing him up to that point. Jay brought a knife to the abandoned house, and yet no one accuses him of trying to murder Tim. Alex was being actively hunted and wanted to defend himself. Was he kind of an asshole to Jay? Yes, but he was never actively antagonistic until later in the series.

From there, that antagonistic behavior is driven by the fact that Jay begins to impede his mission. At some point, Alex comes to terms with the fact that he will never find Amy, and that she's likely dead - which by itself was probably like a knife in the heart after also losing Seth. (Often times these two are grouped into the list of Alex's victims, but I must implore us to remember that he actually never hurt them, actively or accidentally. Their only fault was proximity to him.) His new goal becomes stopping the spread of the Operator, which Jay compromises by getting Jessica involved.

Alex saw what the Operator had done not only to him, but his friends and had to make a call. Once he realized Tim was the source and Jay was actively spreading it to random people, he knew he had two choices; kill himself/isolate himself until the Operator lost interest in him (as we know is possible from the three year gap where he had moved away and got rid of any objects relating to the operator), or he could confront the source - getting rid of it so that no one else had to suffer the same way he did. Was killing Jay and trying to kill Tim the answer? No, but at the same time Alex had been part of a downward mental spiral at the start that Jay ended up reviving about halfway through the series. That was the only way Alex could think of that would prevent countless more dying and being sentenced to madness like himself.

Alex walked back into fire to try, sacrificing everything he has ever known and loved, al so that no one else would have to know the pain he had experienced. In the end it drove him to his death, but what an incredibly selfless act to begin with.

[thethirdromana]

Van Helsing's misinformation

I took a look at some of the claims Van Helsing makes in his "immortal parrots" speech on the 26th of September.

Why was it that Methuselah lived nine hundred years, and 'Old Parr' one hundred and sixty-nine...

The oldest authenticated age that anyone has ever reached is 122 years (Jeanne Louise Calment, 1875-1997). Thomas Parr ('Old Parr') allegedly lived from 1483 to 1635 (which is 152 years, not 169) but the 1895 Dictionary of National Biography, which has an entry for Parr, is very sceptical about his claim, noting that his exact age was "attested by village gossip alone."

Here's Old Parr, painted by an unknown artist:

Do you know the altogether of comparative anatomy and can say wherefore the qualities of brutes are in some men, and not in others?

Comparative anatomy is a perfectly reasonable field, but coupled with "the qualities of brutes" and it being the 1890s, I strongly suspect this is some racist physiognomy bullshit (see p550 here for an example of how this looked in contemporary writing, if you must).

Can you tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon, that one great spider lived for centuries in the tower of the old Spanish church and grew and grew, till, on descending, he could drink the oil of all the church lamps?

This one is delightfully weird. It seems to be a telephone-game version of this story, printed in a variety of magazines and miscellanies (e.g.) since 1821:

The sexton of the church of St Eustace, at Paris, amazed to find frequently a particular lamp extinct early, and yet the oil consumed oil, sat up several nights to perceive the cause. At length he discovered that a spider of surprising size came down the cord to drink the oil. A still more extraordinary instance of the same kind occurred during the year 1751, in the Cathedral of Milan. A vast spider was observed there, which fed on the oil of the lamps... It weighed four pounds, and was sent to the Emperor of Austria, and is now in the Imperial Museum at Vienna.

Here's a photo of St Eustache:

In 1894 the story was reprinted in Notes and Queries, with the question: "Are the statements therein pure fiction? If not, can any one tell me how much we may safely believe? A spider weighing four pounds [1.8kg] is indeed a heavy tax on the reader's credulity."

In reality, the largest spider in the world is the Goliath birdeater, which weighs 175g.

Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and elsewhere, there are bats that come at night and open the veins of cattle and horses and suck dry their veins...

Vampire bats are real, and live in parts of South and Central America. The prey of the common vampire bat can include cattle (source). The quantity of blood that they drink is small - in the region of 100g, or about a fifth of a typical blood donation. Vampire bat predation can result in the death of much larger animals, but from infection, not draining them dry.

Here's a common vampire bat:

... how in some islands of the Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day, and those who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and that when the sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot, flit down on them, and then—and then in the morning are found dead men, white as even Miss Lucy was?

From Wikipedia:

West Sea or Western Sea may refer to:

Atlantic Ocean

Pacific Ocean

Indian Ocean

Mediterranean Sea...

So that's not the most helpful starting point. I don't know which bats these are supposed to be, though hanging in trees like giant nuts makes them sound like fruit bats. In Van Helsing's defence, bats do carry a lot of viruses.

Can you tell me why the tortoise lives more long than generations of men...

Lovely to reach something that's just straight-up true. The current oldest living land animal is Jonathan, a 190+-year-old Seychelles giant tortoise.

... why the elephant goes on and on till he have seen dynasties...

Asian elephants live to be 50 or so; African elephants, 60-70 years. Weirdly, it seems to have been widely believed in the 1890s that elephants lived for a century; e.g. that's cited as fact in the 1894 Encyclopaedia Britannica. Either way, "dynasties" feels like an exaggeration.

... why the parrot never die only of bite of cat or dog or other complaint?

I've tried but I can't find where Bram Stoker got this one from. Maybe he made it up. The English Illustrated Magazine, 1897, contains an article complaining about how easily grey parrots die after being imported and sold as pets.

Can you tell me why men believe in all ages and places that there are some few who live on always if they be permit; that there are men and women who cannot die?

I've also got no idea what's going on with this one. I can't figure out how to look into it without coming up with lots of 1890s Christian literature on the immortal soul, which is not what Van Helsing is getting at.

We all know—because science has vouched for the fact—that there have been toads shut up in rocks for thousands of years, shut in one so small hole that only hold him since the youth of the world.

This was a wildly popular myth in Victorian times (see this article for more details). An article in The Gentleman's Magazine, 1877, entitled 'Some Facts and Fictions of Zoology' (reprinted in several other places) went into the question in more detail, and concluded:

These tales are, in short, as devoid of actual foundation as are the modern beliefs in the venomous properties of the toad, or the ancient beliefs in the occult and mystic powers of various parts of its frame when used in incantations.

Here's a toad:

Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himself to die and have been buried, and his grave sealed and corn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut and sown and reaped and cut again, and then men come and take away the unbroken seal and that there lie the Indian fakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst them as before?

This seems to have been widely believed in the late 19th century - e.g. this 1897 book references "two undoubted cases... one of whom had remained alive under the ground for six weeks, the other for ten days". This 1880 magazine says that it "will appear incredible" but relays the story of a fakir "buried alive for forty days, then disentombed and resuscitated" as fact.

The longest verified case of someone surviving without drinking water is Andreas Mihavecz, an 18-year-old bricklayer who was mistakenly locked up by police for 18 days. Even then, he drank condensed water from the walls, and was very close to death when he was found.

So in summary:

Old Parr: false

Physiognomy: false

Enormous oil-drinking spider: false

Vampire bats: partially true

Bats killing sailors: partially true

Long-lived tortoises: TRUE

Long-lived elephants: false

Immortal parrots: false

Belief in immortality: ???

Imprisoned toads: false

Buried fakirs: false

I guess there are some disadvantages to having an "absolutely open mind."

[lykaiosthinks]

new series, journal entries from V's pov pre-roadtrip arc and post-broadcast arc

Day 1:

4:32 - Radio broadcast finished

4:51 - Started prioritizing materials

5:05 - Consolidating stuff

Well, Cleo asked what I was doing, then pointed out that it wouldn’t be much help to whoever read this if it was just a time log, so I guess it’s a journal now.

I guess I should probably explain what happened. That broadcast was the first thing we ever heard from anyone outside of the city after the fallout. Coincidentally, it was also the last thing we heard from anyone while we were inside the city. Reason being that the broadcast was basically our 30 day timer to get out. They were dropping a bomb on the city in an attempt to clear out the infection. I guess that probably means our city was a hotspot, which means that if you’re reading this you’re far enough into the future when this city is finally hospitable again. Or you’re just some insane adrenaline junkie who decided to journey far and long enough to somehow find this. (If that’s the case, please leave this for someone who needs it. You clearly don’t.)

Anyway, I guess this is just a record of what we’re doing, but we haven’t done much yet. Cleo and Jo were quite taken aback at the news, which is understandable. I suppose I’m just numb to everything around me at this point. It took a while for them to calm down and rationalize that we had plenty of time to figure things out. The first thing we did was figure out what we were gonna need to leave this place. Food and water was a must, but the problem was how much? I wasn't sure how soon it would be before we could find another sustainable source of food. I decided that we would bring as much as we could, and dump some if we needed something else. I guess I don’t really need food as much, but honestly what I need is probably more scarce.

I guess I should also introduce myself. I’ve been going by V, for fear of not wanting to reveal my full name. I guess it doesn’t matter so much now that I know Cleo and Jo better, but I see no reason to change anything. Cleo is the youngest of us, and she lost her sister soon after the fallout happened. She’s been looking for her ever since, and the news of the bomb hit the hardest for her. She still believes her sister is okay, but there’s been no evidence of her life or her death, so it’s hard to say. Jo is a little older than Cleo, and they get along very well. A little too well at times, honestly. They can cause more trouble than the infection itself, if given enough time. I think I’m older than Jo, but my memory’s really been going since the initial breakout. I suppose I should mention that Jo and I are both technically infected, but I managed to throw some sort of antidote together. It doesn’t really fix the problem entirely but it keeps it from getting worse, which is what matters. I didn’t really care too much about my wellbeing before Jo and Cleo came around, so I’m basically surviving entirely off of pills and such. That’s my theory as to why my memory is going; whatever is keeping me alive and functioning certainly isn’t normal.

Anyway, the rest of the day was spent packing things up and deciding what would be good to take and leave. I insisted that any personal belongings should be kept to a minimum, but Cleo and Jo claimed there were things that had to be taken with them. I figured it was fine as long as I wouldn’t be carrying anything, which they said wouldn’t be a problem. I suppose this is all we’re going to be doing for the next month, so I should probably get used to it.

I need sleep. Any rest I can get will be crucial to our plans. I should have been asleep a while ago, but I forgot about this journal thing. No wonder, but maybe writing this stuff down would help me remember. Maybe this will all be useless. I’ll forget about it again, maybe. Leave it somewhere no one will find it. I’m not really sure what’s worth my time anymore.

This isn’t good, is it?

[terresdebrume]

Messrs Payne and Rowland's Adventuring Agency pt 13

Written to wind down after a (good!) 4h call with a friend :D

By the time they reach the coast, the sun is sinking towards the horizon, painting everything in bright shades of oranges and pink that make Crystal smile. She ties her horse to a tree and goes to stand next to Charles and Mr. Payne, idly thinking they're going to need some light and jumping when the palm of her hand starts shining.

"Oh, brilliant!" Charles says, grinning even as Mr. Payne rolls his eyes.

"You've seen me do this countless times," he says, touching his fingers to the clasp holding his robes closed at the collar to make it shine a brilliant white. "Now, the tide is coming in, which means the top entrance will be our best bet. Look for a chasm in the ground, but be careful, I was told it is easy to miss. We wouldn't want—"

Crystal is only half listening to him, eyes idly tracking Charles as he strides confidently away from them with a spring in his steps and his eyes on the ground... Which also makes her the first to see Charles slip down and disappear.

"Mr. Rowland!" Edwin exclaims when Crystal's surprised yelp catches his attention.

He looks abruptly pale in the light from his brooch, and when Crystal sends an arm out in front of him to make sure he doesn't end up the same way as his colleague, he glares at her in a way that almost makes her wonder if he's going to hex her.

"It won't help if we fall down too," she says, grateful to see Mr. Payne take a breath and sigh.

"You are correct. Let's look carefully."

Keeping their light sources high, they carefully make their way to a wide, fairly narrow chasm in the ground. It's wide enough to let a person through, but no so wide that it'd be difficult to jump over it. Not, the thinks, the kind of thing a playing child would worry too much about. Hell, if her parents hadn't said she went to play alone that day, Crystal would imagine her challenging her friends to see who'll have the guts to make the jump.

"Charles?" She calls out cautiously.

"Mr. Rowland! Are you well?"

A grunt comes from the bottom, and both Crystal and Mr. Payne sag with relief.

"Mr. Rowland?"

"Mr. Payne," Charles replies, sounding more like they're meeting in the streets than someone who just took a fall of however many feet. "Do try not to fall down. This think is at least sixty feet deep."

"Do you see a sign of young Rebecca anywhere?"

"It's too dark, I can't see anything. Let me get to the drift globes."

"Please do put on your ring as well," Mr. Payne says as he pulls a string of copper wire out of his pocket. "I would rather avoid shouting too much when we have no idea what took Miss Aspen here."

"You think it could be a creature?" Crystal asks, looking around. "I haven't seen anything big enough to want to go toe to toe with a kid."

"Not on the surface," Mr. Payne admits with a pinched expression, "and it is entirely possible Miss Aspen went wherever she is now of her own volition... But there are some seas creatures that do not turn their noses up at human meat."

Crystal grimaces, but before she has time to voice her disgust at the thought, Mr. Payne pauses.

"Mr. Rowland says there is no sign of her or another body where he is," he says, "but the tide is coming in. Come, young Crystal. We need to find a point of entry that can also be used as an exit."

"What about Charles?"

"He will go look for Miss Aspen, of course." Mr. Payne points down into the chasm and, speaking into his copper wire, says: "Do be careful, Mr. Rowland."

And then he takes Crystal further towards the coast.

[etherealninfa]

THE FIRST DATE. Inspector Gadget X Oc fanfic. (CannonXOc) Chapter 3: "A trap in the museum"

Sorry for this late update but there are the last chapters if you need them before read this and also sorry again if my translation have some mistakes.

Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/etherealninfa/736718475852185600/the-first-date-inspector-gadget-x-oc-fanfic?source=share

Chapter 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/etherealninfa/737164253806673920/the-first-date-inspector-gadget-x-oc-fanfic?source=share

Chapter 3: A trap in the museum.

Ninfa’s POV:

I was still sad but I didn't feel ready to tell him that I didn't want to be away from him. Once we arrived at the museum, Gadget looked at me again with great curiosity. I felt very embarrassed by my previous behavior, not at all appropriate for someone my age. I was fortunate to have him as my boss because he was quite understanding and sweet. I think that someone else in his place would have already fired me or ordered me to be arrested for a few hours. Gadget, on the other hand, was very patient with me. He genuinely cared about me.

******

The place was already cordoned off with yellow tape to prevent entry. We presented ourselves to the colleagues who had secured the vicinity of the museum in order to gain access and begin work.

-Do you want to go in first?- he said. -We must be alert if there is still someone involved nearby.

I couldn't concentrate. I heard it but for some reason my mood didn't let me react.

-Are you going to say something, or not? - He asked me -You look very quiet.

-Sorry...I'll go inside to start looking for clues.

I walked towards the entrance and he followed me. Once inside, we looked for a very brief moment at the exhibits before starting with what really mattered. I could notice how, from time to time, Gadget turned to look at me and then returned his gaze to one of the museum pieces. I knew that he was not trying to make me feel uncomfortable and that's why he remained silent. At that point, some police officers came to where we were to talk to the inspector. They explained the situation and what they knew so far: Someone broke in and stole an emerald figure. At the moment there were no clues or indications within the main areas of the museum and, therefore, the identity of the person responsible could not be reached.

-Well, I suppose we should obviously check the place where the stolen piece was, but I think we should take a look at the places that seem unrelated to all this: the ancient Egypt exhibition, the library and the remaining galleries. It is possible to find something important where we least imagine being able to find something.-said the inspector.

So, we went directly to the place where the stolen figure was located. Like the entrance, the place was already cordoned off. There were several shards of glass scattered across the floor; sample of what was the display case that protected the piece that was no longer in the museum. Gadget took out some of his gizmos to start investigating. I followed him, taking notes and paying attention to any orders he could give me.

-Wowzers!-the inspector exclaimed as he leaned near the display.- What do we have here?- He took out his magnifying glass and got as close as the distance between his body and the object would allow him.

I also immediately leaned in to see what he had discovered. It was a seal impregnated on the marble of that structure. That seal, that brand was nothing more and nothing less than the logo of the organization led by the evil Dr. Claw. It was too small so it was to be expected that the officers did not notice it with the naked eye.

-Honestly... it doesn't surprise me- I answered.

-Yes, who else but that eccentric villain to stole a piece like this-Gadget answered. -Well, I guess it's no longer necessary to go to the other places in the museum, we already know who the author of this crime is.

After a few brief seconds with our gaze fixed on the logo, we immediately turned to look at each other with the same closeness as the times we were about to kiss. I could feel his gray eyes, so full of experience, seemed to fix beyond my soul. There was a rather awkward silence. I couldn't look at him so I immediately thought about getting out of that situation.

-Well...we already have the proof we needed, so we better return to the station to get to work on the plan to recover the piece- I said, turning to start walking away from him. But quickly, Gadget grabbed me tightly by the wrist and forced me to stay next to him. I was surprised by that unexpected reaction on his part, almost to the point of scaring me a little. He looked very serious and determined. My body trembled because of this new side of him. Now I couldn't take my eyes off his, due to the shock it caused me.

-I-inspector...- I stammered-we must go...there are guards everywhere.

-There's no one here now- he answered.

-There are security cameras...

-I'll take care of that later.

His words flowed with shocking firmness. He kept looking at me with that same expression. Yes, that was the word: firmness. He did not seem angry or exploding with aggression despite the force he had applied to his grip. I knew that no matter what I said, there was no escape. I know that everything could seem like an excuse for being someone with knowledge of self-defense techniques like me, but the truth is that I didn't know how to answer. I was just sure that coming to a struggle was not one of the options. Part of me wanted to give in and another part resisted.

-Inspector, I think this is not the time to...

-So when?!

With his other hand he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me towards him. He squeezed me lightly without hurting me. I just closed my eyes and started to relax my body; waiting for what we have been wanting to achieve for a few hours. I felt how his lips subtly caressed mine. That slight tickling sent me an overload that ran through my entire spine and made every fragment of my skin crawl. And, finally, the flame of that long-awaited kiss consumed us the moment he pressed his lips against mine.

I was kissing him and he was kissing me. He did it madly, with a certain desperation. Now, with both hands he held my waist and I surrounded his neck. He picked me up and took me against one of the large pilasters that supported the building. It wasn't right that we were both doing that while we were on a mission but we couldn't stop. The tension had been so much that it took just one glance for everything to explode. At a certain point, I felt his tongue in contact with mine and his arms pressing me closer to him. It could only hear how my mouth emanated faint uncontrollable moans and the emptiness combined with the large size of that room made the sound of our lips in contact reverberate in echo.

But just when my mind became more cloudy and I left aside the fact that we were in front of a crime scene and in a place where someone could arrive at any moment, a powerful and unknown noise, whose origin we could not define, echoed throughout the room. It was something very strident that freed us from that trance. We stopped kissing and turned towards the direction of the sound. Some of the officers who were nearby suddenly entered. Seeing them inside the room, I let go from Gadget's arms, without turning to see his reaction.

-What was that noise?!-asked one of the officers.

-I have no idea!- Gadget answered, trying to level out how agitated his voice sounded. -We'll have to inspect and find the exact point where it's coming from. Quick!

We all immediately split up to search. I ran in the direction of the library. I still had a very vivid memory of the inspector's lips on mine. This new event didn't let me process everything. After crossing a long corridor, I finally arrived at the place. There was no one person around. I felt a little short of breath so I walked slowly as I inspected. Everything seemed to be in order, very clean. The air emanated that aroma of ink, paper and glue.

I continued with my investigation until I came across a spiral staircase that led to the second level of the library. There, on each of the steps, there were books placed forming a path that clearly invited me to follow it. Something very suspicious, that was for sure; but my duty was to find out where it led. I walked up stairs and, when I reached the end, the path of books continued. I continued with that journey until the row led me to one of the shelves there. It was empty, apparently because the books that were supposed to be there were what had been used to build that trail that would take me to that point. Only a large red book remained in its place on that bookshelf. I knew that this was not a coincidence, so I took it and after examining it from the outside, I opened it. To my surprise, the book was blank and, before I could react, it exploded in my hands. But it wasn't gunpowder or something that was intended to hurt me to a mortal degree. What that object released was nothing more than sleeping gas.

Gadget's POV:

I was researching in the Ancient Egypt exhibition room. There were no traces of broken glass or destroyed objects, the displays were intact. I couldn't think about anything other than my kiss with Ninfa. I feel a little embarrassed to tell the truth, because I have always focused on my work and being in service I rarely left my obligation aside. But I couldn't contain myself anymore. In a way I am grateful that the interruption occurred because, if I continued kissing her the way I did, I don't know what I would have been capable of. I had to concentrate, calm down. I will be alone with her again, although I was not sure if I have already ruined everything. She responded to my kiss but maybe she could change her mind... I don't know. Suddenly, the sound of a slight explosion and Ninfa screaming abruptly brought me back to reality.

I immediately turned and ran as fast as I could in the direction of the museum library. Once there, I called her several times but she didn't answer. At that, I came across a mysterious path made of books. I didn't think twice and followed it. In the end I arrived to the bottom of the second floor, where I could see Ninfa lying on the floor. As I breathed I could feel a certain heaviness on my eyelids, making it evident that someone had spread sleeping gas. Before this took effect, I put on a gas mask, so that sleeping gas couldn't invade my entire system. I approached where Ninfa was lying. I turned her around, just to check that her condition was solely due to the gas and not anything else. Apparently it was that, nothing more. She didn't had any wounds. She continued breathing and made slight noises with her mouth: she was asleep.

I took her in my arms and carried her to the museum lobby. I placed her on a bench in front of a window so she could get some fresh air. I tried to wake her up but it was in vain, apparently the effect of the gas was very powerful. I was feeling very worried. The officers who were with us a while ago arrived again. I explained everything I had seen but that we would have to wait for the gas to dissipate from the library before I could go and inspect the site. Likewise, I knew that there was no other option but to let the effect of the gas wear off on its own from Ninfa's body. However, I couldn't leave her here in that state. It would be dangerous; so I took her in my arms again and headed to my car. I would have to take her to her house, there was no doubt of that.

******

We moved in my car towards her home. It was a small apartment located in a group of buildings in which several people lived. Luckily I had my master key that allowed me to open any door in the city, so I had no problem entering. It wasn't the first time I was at Ninfa's house; She had already invited me and my niece several times but my stay had always been limited to passing through the living room, the bathroom or the dining room. I had never entered her bedroom before and doing so now piqued my curiosity a lot.

With her in my arms, I turned the knob and, in front of me, the space where she used to rest all the nights was revealed. The sweet aroma so characteristic of her floated in the delicate atmosphere of that feminine and intriguing refuge of hers. Her kitten was sleeping in a small bed located on top of a dresser. She noticed my presence but she went back to sleep instantly. I gently placed Ninfa on her bed and sat for a moment next to her. With one of my hands I caressed her face. I know that she was not in this condition by her own will, which was somewhat worrying; Still... seeing her with her eyes closed, so calm... I couldn't help but smile with some tenderness.

I stayed there for a few moments and was immersed in contemplating her room. It was quite cozy and surrounded by pretty things that gave it an innocent air. I noticed a photo on her nightstand: it was one that Penny had taken of us on Ninfa's last birthday, without us realizing it at the time. We were having a little fight over who would eat the last strawberry on the cake. The photo had captured the moment in which we were both trying to insert our fork into the fruit. Obviously we were playing and in the end I gave her the strawberry.

I laughed when I remembered that occasion and I was surprised that she had that photo, always by her side. I sighed and left it in it place. I  had to return to the museum to continue the work. I didn't want to leave her like this but there was no other alternative. I looked at her one last time and gave her a small kiss on the corner of her lips:

-I'll be back later- I told her even though she couldn't hear me. -We still have a lot to talk about but I would like us to do it in a special place. One where we can be far from everything and everyone. It will be our first date.

******

I was already back at the museum. The whole ride I was just thinking about how much I wanted to put an end to this whole robbery thing and get back to her. I didn't expect the day to be this intense but, without suspecting it, I didn't imagine that it was going to become increasingly strange. The police officers I had interacted with from the beginning were waiting at the entrance to the museum. As soon as I approached, one of them handed me a paper.

-Has something new happened, colleagues?- I asked them.

-Just this, inspector- he said, showing me a paper- we found this note that, apparently, is addressed to you.

-A note?- I said, taking that intriguing paper.

With obvious curiosity, I prepared to read:

"Hello, Inspector Gadget. It's wonderful to see that my trap worked just as I expected. For many years I have tried to destroy you in every way imaginable; but you of all people know that it has been impossible. I am impressed, I must admit. ..although without any enthusiasm. Likewise, this does not mean that I will stop my plans. No, on the contrary: I think that the best way to destroy you would be, doing it in parts.

I will start by destroying your heart. I hope you understand what I mean. In case not...let me tell you something: How beautiful and how vulnerable your little assistant looks while she sleeps! So fragile, so oblivious to what is happening around her...and so easy to be taken in my cold claws.

See you never, Gadget. Sincerely, Dr. Claw."

This was not good at all. What was the trap? So many possibilities came to my head. Ninfa...she was alone and unconscious in her house. Without hesitation, I grabbed my secret phone and called Chief Quimby.

-Boss, this is Gadget! I need to leave the museum, the matter has become more serious! Please send other reinforcements to the area. Ninfa is in danger and I must leave immediately.

I didn't wait for the boss's response, I hung up immediately and went back to the car. I had to get to her house because, without a doubt, she was in danger. I drove as fast as possible, waiting for her to be okay.

Upon arrival, I rushed straight to his bedroom. What I feared most appeared before me: Ninfa was not there. Her kitten came out from under her bed, she was scared and her tail was slightly bristled. I took her in my arms and calmed her while I called Ninfa throughout the apartment but it was in vain, she was not there. I had to move and find her. Her kitten was already more relaxed, so I took her back to Ninfa's room. I looked again at the photo she had on her nightstand and felt a feeling of helplessness and a lump in my throat. But there was no time for sentimentality, I had to act.

******

When I crossed the threshold of the door of her house everything seemed normal, which did not allow me to react to what was going to happen. Without warning, I felt something strong and heavy bearing down on me. As soon as I reacted I saw how a fairly tall and strong man took me by both arms to subdue me.

-Hello, inspector! "It's time for a ride" -he said mockingly.

-Who are you?! Get your hands off me! -I exclaimed as I tried to free me but his strength was superior. -Let me go! -Silence- Damn! I need to find Ninfa...

-Don't worry, you will be with her very soon- he said, letting out an evil laugh.

I froze at his comment. I was more worried and the lump in my throat became more painful. The guy took a fairly heavy chain and tied me with it, so that it would be impossible for me to free myself. The worst thing is that my gadgets did not react. The man took me to a truck which he forced me to get into. He went to the back seat with me and the driver started to taking us to a place that was totally unknown to me...

-To be continued-

Notes:

Omg really sorry for took a lot of time to post it . Honestly was very hard translate. I hope you like it. Promise poste the next soon <3

[avirael]

All Good Things

In high spirits they had returned to Vesper Bay. A’viloh was happily chattering and Rael graciously listened to him. It had immensely helped the Miqo’te’s mood that this time they had been able to resolve the threat at hand without any casualties. Two facts at once that Rael was very grateful for.

But as they approached the Waking Sands, Rael paused. Something felt off. It was a perfectly fine warm day in Western Thanalan and yet all of the sudden a cold shiver ran down the Viera’s spine. Alarmed they scanned the surroundings but everything seemed just as usual. Only a few steps later A’viloh noticed that his companion wasn’t there anymore. Confused he turned around and noticed the weird expression on Rael’s face.

“What’s wrong?”, he asked and followed the Viera’s gaze but couldn’t see what caught their attention.

Rael shook their head. “It’s probably nothing…”

It was an assessment that proved very wrong the second they reached the Waking Sands.

The entry hall was empty. Tataru was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t such an uncommon thing though. Still something worried Rael and as the two of them took the stairs to the floor below they realised why that was.

It was unusually dark inside. Almost all the lights had burnt out and an eerie silence filled the otherwise always bustling rooms. Even before Rael could conjure up a light source A’viloh gasped and froze beside them. His eyes were naturally better suited to work with little to no light and so he saw first what Rael hadn’t noticed yet. The same moment A‘vi raised a hand to his mouth the small fireball above Rael’s staff flared up and revealed the corridor leading towards Minfilia’s solar in it's whole horror. The tiles were tainted with smears and puddles of blood and lifeless bodies were scattered around on the floor, still lying were they had fallen.

The Miqo’te barely dared to breath and just blinked at the massacre not understanding what he saw and for a moment Rael was just as shocked as he was. Then they quickly made a few steps forward, knelt down beside a Lalafell which A’viloh remembered had usually guarded the entry to their hideout. Helplessly he watched as Rael turned the small body around and checked for a pulse. With a dark expression on their face they looked up to A’vi and shook their head.

“W-What happened here?”, A’viloh asked barely audible and started to shake.

Rael raised a finger to their lips. They shrugged and whispered: “We need to check for survivors. But be careful. Whoever did this could still be here…”

With a small gesture Rael made the fireball above their staff split in multiple smaller ones that flew away to hover along the hallway walls and illuminate their way. Then silently the Viera hurried to the next person on the ground while A’viloh still stood there trying to get ahold of himself. With flattened ears and his tail tugged between his legs he slowly walked down the corridor. Each step more tentative than the one before as if he feared the floor would crumble beneath his feet. His fearful eyes wandered from one body to the next as he slowly stepped past them but couldn’t find any sign of life. It were so many of them…

He took a careful look down both of the adjacent corridors but there was nothing to be seen except more corpses. Reluctantly he fixed his gaze on the double doors leading to Minfilia’s room, slightly ajar, and decided that this was the most important place to check now. He dreaded what he might find there, as he slowly opened one of the doors.

“Rael!”, he yelled forgetting all the caution for a second as he indeed saw a small sign of life. Alarmed the Viera shot up and hurried to his side. “There!”, he said and pointed to one side of the desk, where barely moving lay a tiny sylph on the floor.

“Noraxia!”, he exclaimed, hurried to her side and tried to carefully pick her up. Rael was right behind him, already preparing a healing spell and trying to get a better look at the small sylph A’viloh cradled in his arms. Just as Noraxia tried to speak Rael’s view started to blur. It was the worst time possible but they had long given up trying to suppress or force their visions to their liking because it was simply not possible.

***

As the vision faded and the here and now came back into focus not much time seemed to have passed. “The imperials??”, A’viloh asked in confusion. Rael looked up and saw he was looking back at them. “You saw the same thing, didn’t you?”, they asked. The Miqo’te nodded weakly. “I think so… but how did they find this place?”

There was no time for Rael to hypothesise about this as the wounded sylph in A’viloh’s arms started to groan. Weakly she stretched out one of her tiny arms and clasped a loose strand of A‘vi‘s red hair. “This one is glad… walking ones are safe…”, she said and her high-pitched voice was quiet and shaky.

“Don’t speak.”, Rael said softly. “I will heal you.”

But Noraxia didn’t listen. “Walking... walking one Minfilia... asked this one to... In case walking ones r-returned... this one was to say... to say... At church in Eastern Thanalan... walking one must claim sanctuary... This one tried... tried to protect walking one Minfilia f-from imperial ones... For... give... this... one… Save...”

She didn’t finish what she had tried to say. Instead her little hand let go of A’viloh’s hair and lifelessly fell down.

“Hang in there, tiny one.”, A‘vi begged, calling her the way he always had when she had used one of her typical descriptions instead of his name. Pleadingly he looked at Rael, who‘s face twitched painfully. “She‘s gone, A‘vi.”

For a while both of them sat there, heads and ears hanging low, silently crying. Then Rael shook themself and ran one of their arms over their face. “We still need to check the rest of the building. Maybe there‘s still someone alive somewhere…”

Rael didn’t manage to sound very convincing but A‘viloh knew they were right and they at least had to try. Weakly he nodded, stood up and put the little sylph down on Minfilia‘s desk. He still couldn’t understand how everything could have gone wrong so fast.

Disheartened they left the solar and decided to split up, one of them taking the corridor to the left, which lead to the private rooms, and the other to the right. Rael found that all of the doors to the bedrooms had been broken open but at least there weren’t as many bodies to be found here. The attack must have happened in the middle of the day. They had been certain this was a fight they could win or they would have attacked at night when most of their victims would have been asleep in their rooms.

Suddenly a terrible scream echoed through the silent hallways. It was clearly A’viloh’s voice! Alarmed Rael whirled around and ran back the way they came and down the other corridor. As they entered the room at its end they saw the Miqo’te throwing himself to his knees beside another lifeless body. “No! Please! No, no, no!”, he wailed as he shook the body of the Miqo’te lying in front of him.

Rael gasped. A‘aba! Rael had completely forgotten about him. Quickly they rushed to his other side and reached out for him. But of course it was too late already. The imperials had been thorough in making sure that no one was left alive.

“A‘vi…”, Rael said but then fell silent. What could you say in a situation like this? I’m sorry? It felt so insufficient in the face of so much pain.

A’viloh was still pleading and screaming. This couldn’t be true. Not another one.

In a way this was a new experience for A‘vi. Back when his family had died he had been too young to fully grasp the situation. Sure, he had memories of the events, horrible ones even, but they were fuzzy and so far away. And Laqa? He had just been gone from one moment to the other, without leaving any trace that he ever existed. For a few cruel days A’viloh had even told himself that all of this wasn’t real and that he would show up any day now to save him.

But this? This was undeniable. The cold, bloodstained truth right in front of his eyes. No room for impossible childish dreams and hopes. He had always thought grief would be easier if you still had something left to grief over but now he couldn’t say that he preferred this. It was unbearable to see this so familiar, once so buoyant person, like this. Lifeless and while still just the same as before also strangely unrecognisable.

Defeated A‘vi slumped down and buried his face at his cousin‘s chest. The pleading stopped and gave way to grief-stricken, terrible sobs, that made Rael’s skin crawl. Helplessly the Viera watched and remembered the last time they had spoken to A‘aba.

“Take care of my little cousin.”, he had told Rael half-joking before the two of them had left for Costa del Sol. A’viloh had protested that he could take care of himself perfectly fine and A’aba had laughed heartily and ruffled his neatly braided hair much to A’vi’s dismay. Neither of them would have guessed that this would be the last time they saw each other.

But the reality was now and it was cruel. Rael hadn’t even noticed when they had started to cry again but suddenly they felt the tears on their cheeks. It had hurt to see so many of their comrades killed but seeing A‘vi suffering like this hurt worse. Their comrades couldn’t be helped anymore, but even in A'vi's case this time Rael felt that there was nothing they could say or do to make this better.

“A‘vi…”, Rael repeated, still unsure what to say at all, hesitantly stretching their hands out towards him. “I… I am so sorry…” Carefully Rael touched his shoulders. His head shot up as if he just remembered that the Viera was still there. For a few seconds A‘viloh just stared at them with wide eyes.

Then he threw his arms around the Viera’s body and buried his face at their chest, again sobbing miserably. He clung to Rael so tightly as if he feared they would vanish too if he let go for just a second. Gently Rael wrapped their arms around him, hid their own tear-stained face in his hair and let him cry.

[damien-wolfram-art]

Part of a collaboration with @flawlessstriker

Here it is!

@teamminatoweek

Content

Minato leaned on the second-floor railing that overlooked the living room of his small cabin home and sighed.

“Someone’s looking content,” cooed the warm and familiar voice of Sakumo Hatake, his third love. He joined Minato at the railing to see just what had made him so happy. Below, Minato’s son, Naruto, was laughing away. He was being tickled on the lower bunk of his bed by a larger boy from the Uchiha clan, Obito. The couple had adopted Obito into the family after a long series of unfortunate events. The boy was troubled, but with some help from his son, Kakashi, Sakumo had come to see the good in Obito.

“Content? Haha I guess so,” Minato agreed, remembering that it hadn’t been easy for him to reach this peaceful moment either. He had lost his first love, Kushina, during Naruto’s birth. This was something Sakumo understood all too well and although Kakashi hadn’t a Tailed Beast sealed within him, he was spending some time in prison with his own demons to attend to.

Minato tried to start anew after leaving Naruto under the care of the Senju, though perhaps it was too fast; it was a bad habit of his to rush into things after all. His second attempt at love came and went, but when he stumbled across Sakumo, it felt like life could finally start slowing down for him. He rekindled with Naruto who was much older now–thirteen years older in fact and by some cosmic coincidence, he had inherited the kind, forgiving nature of his mother. Minato swore to protect him and Sakumo promised to be by their side.

Now, Minato spent his days with his little found family in their cabin, farming or finding ways to make work just a little easier for the older man who had made the house a home. He had never really stopped to think about it, but Sakumo was right. He was content.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv Two more entries under the cut vvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Unexpected Visitors

It was a beautiful spring day in The Hatake Territory. The birds were singing and the air was crisp after a few showers earlier in the week. Minato took the pleasant weather as a sign that he and his son should spend some quality time outside together. The two were working on the completion of a jutsu that Naruto had picked up from a “frog” somewhere during his travels. As ridiculous as this sounded, Minato never questioned Naruto for he had also met “The Frog”.

The two were just beginning to make progress when Minato felt every hair on his body stand on end. There was an oppressive chakra approaching. It rivaled Naruto’s and that of the beast inside of him as well. “Obito,” Minato called over to the young man resting at the base of a tree who had been watching them train. “Take Naruto to Sakumo.”

“What? Aw c’mon! We were just gettin’ somewhere!” Naruto protested.

“It’s just a quick break Naruto. Besides, Sakumo should have lemonade,” Minato bribed the boys.

Obito stood up quickly. Sakumo’s lemonade was almost always a bit too sweet and Obito had a sweet tooth. The bribe worked on him. “Well, Naruto, you heard Pops. Gramps made lemonade. It’s break time,” his raspy voice ceded and he dragged Naruto inside–kicking and screaming.

Minato turned toward the source of the disturbance and clutched tightly to one of his custom three-pronged kunai. There was a rustle and then, he was gone. Only the kunai remained.

In an instant, Minato transported himself to another kunai near the source of the rustle. He had his kunai scattered all over the territory just for this purpose. From his new vantage point, he saw one of the intruders, Tobirama Senju.

By now, he knew what the intruder was looking for. It had been a few years since Naruto had escaped Senju containment. He had been on the run ever since. Since they had settled down, it was a simple task to find him. Minato wouldn't allow it though. He had to throw his idol off of the track somehow, but when he blinked, the man was gone! “Crap! Where did he-”

“Go?” Asked the deep self-righteous voice of Tobirama from behind him. He had already marked the tree where Minato’s suspicious kunai was with a seal of his own and used it to flank him.

Minato felt the man move to slash at him and so he was forced to transport away again. This continued for a few minutes until Minato found one of his kunai that Tobirama hadn’t. From there, he rushed home.

Upon arrival, he was relieved to see that everyone was alright, but there was something that just didn’t sit right with him. Tobirama was in the forest, but what was that chakra? It wasn’t Tobirama’s. It was a chakra he had never experienced before; it was similar in strength to Hashirama’s. Though it was much more ominous. He had only begun to explain himself when there was a knock on the door. His brief explanation was more than enough to spur Obito into action though. With his own transportation dojutsu, he took himself and Naruto to a place only he could access normally.

Then, Minato answered the door. Nothing would have prepared him for what he would see outside of his home. A masked man with white side-swept spiky hair wearing a bland prisoner’s uniform gave him a curt wave and a pleasant, “Yo~”

“Kakashi?” Minato greeted him with disbelief. “Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”

Before Kakashi could answer, a heavy shadow loomed behind him. Minato was suddenly struck by the imposing chakra he felt before at full force. Two red eyes pierced the silhouette. Three tomoe resided in each, framing the pupils. A full head of hip length teased midnight blue hair made it very apparent who Minato was dealing with. “M-Madara Uchiha,” he croaked.

The formidable beast of a man stepped forward, gently pushing Kakashi aside. “So, you recognize me? How fortunate for you. That makes things a bit easier.” There was an air of casual confidence when he spoke, but this did nothing to diminish his intimidation factor. “I’ll make this quick then: I’ve brought you Kakashi Hatake; I want The Nine-Tails.”

Precious

“Death comes to all. But life comes first. Cherish it. Death is the destination. But the journey, that is life. That is what matters.”

Brandon Sanderson - The Way of Kings

Madara Uchiha was at his door, demanding his son. Using Kakashi as leverage, he cornered Minato and gave him a choice, but deciding was impossible. When his mind was taken over by a genjutsu, Sakumo stepped in. The White Light Blade struck true. Madara was bleeding.

“Take Kakashi and go,” Sakumo ordered.

Minato’s mind flashed to the night he met him. He was searching for Naruto and just happened across a campsite. The fire was crackling away in the lonely night. There he found many crumpled notes which shook him to his very core. “My name is Sakumo Hatake,” one read. 

“Those who seek my bounty know me as “The White Fang”. I have grown tired of this chase; I feel the weight of my sins and can run from them no longer. To the one who finds me: please take my bounty and leave my son, Kakashi, unharmed. The legacy of “The White Fang” shall die here with me.”

Sakumo was both furious and embarrassed to find that Minato read his drafts, but Minato begged him to reconsider. First, he listened to the broken man’s story. The two of them had both been separated from their boys. Though he sympathized with Sakumo, he argued for Kakashi’s sake, “The way you talk is like you’ve given up on something precious to you. Your boy, Kakashi, he’s precious to you, but that’s not it is it? You’ve lost something else: the strength to go on. It’s true that we all will eventually move on from these lives, but will dying here now truly satisfy you? Kakashi needs you! Don’t you want to protect him? As his father, your will to protect is strong. Are you really going to throw all that away and give up?”

Sakumo had been deeply moved by Minato’s words, but Minato wanted to make sure he remembered them. When he found the noose, he cut it down and etched the three words “Never Give Up” into the trees surrounding the area. He left one of his Kunai in the center tree. He was not sure what he expected, but he never expected Sakumo to eventually hand deliver it back to him.

Now the older man was between him and Madara Uchiha. Minato tried to protest, but Sakumo wouldn’t allow it. He had changed. “Take Kakashi and go. This is my home. I will protect it. It is precious to me!”

“Cute,” uttered Madara. And then there were flames.

Minato panted heavily. There was a lingering warmth on his face from the flames he had narrowly escaped. In his arms he clutched Kakashi’s injured form protectively. When he looked up to see where he was, he saw Obito and Naruto staring back at him.

“Pops?” Greeted Obito. “Where’s Gramps?”

[ponyosmom35]

Trapped

bittersweet chapter thirty four

steve harrington x fem oc

synopsis: Robin, Indie, Steve, and Erica get trapped in a secret russian elevator.

link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

In the dim light of the Scoops Ahoy, under the quirky nautical decor and amidst the scent of sweet ice cream, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Indie Holland, and Dustin Henderson gathered around the counter with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Their recent discovery of a mysterious Russian transmission had led them to believe something sinister was unfolding right beneath the Starcourt Mall.

As the mall buzzed with the usual flurry of shoppers, Dustin replayed the cryptic Russian message for what felt like the hundredth time. "It has to be from here, it just has to be," he insisted, pointing to the background noise in the recording that matched the mall's ambient sounds.

Robin, with her quick wit and sharper linguistic skills, was deep into decoding the phrases, scribbling notes furiously. "It's definitely military code, or I'm an idiot," she mused aloud, not looking up from her papers.

Steve, leaning against the counter next to Indie, watched her reactions closely. He noticed her occasional frowns and knew she felt somewhat left out after his time spent bonding with Robin over their covert operation. Trying to bridge the gap, he said, "Hey, Indie, you've got a sharp eye for details. What do you make of the background tune in the message?"

Indie, feeling somewhat reassured, leaned in to listen again. "It's eerie," she admitted, "like it's meant to be heard over and over."

After work, fueled by their findings and laden with anticipation, the group, along with Dustin, decided to investigate the mall's loading bays under the guise of night. The evening rain provided a cover of sound as they crept across the rooftop near the loading bays, their hearts pounding with every step.

Peering over the edge, they spotted several guards, armed heavily and scanning the area meticulously. "Wow, look at that..." Dustin whispered, handing Steve the binoculars.

Steve took them, adjusting the focus. "They're not messing around, are they?" he muttered, observing the military precision with which the guards moved. As he handed the binoculars back to Dustin, his hand accidentally brushed Indie's. Their eyes met, and a silent acknowledgment passed between them. Suddenly aware of the contact, Steve quickly withdrew his hand, and the moment was broken.

The tension and adrenaline were too high to dwell on personal feelings. "We need to get out of here," Steve decided, and without another word, they hurried back into the mall, blending into the dwindling crowd of shoppers.

Later that night, while manning the counter at Scoops Ahoy, Steve tried to lighten the mood. "You know, I could probably take out one of those massive Russian guards," he boasted, half-joking.

Indie rolled her eyes, chuckling despite the tension. "Sure, Steve, and I'm the Queen of Hawkins," she teased, then grew serious. "But really, we should check out that lead Robin found about the air ducts near the storage room."

Leaving the boys to their devices, Indie and Robin ventured out to gather more information. They returned to find the boys animatedly discussing their next move. Robin had figured out a potential entry point into the storage area through the air ducts. "It's a long shot, but it's the best we've got," she explained, laying out the blueprints she had managed to acquire.

The plan was daring: Erica, being the smallest, would crawl through the ducts and unlock the door from the inside. They positioned themselves strategically, waiting for the signal.

As the doors open Erica stands with her hand on her hip "free ice cream for life!"

They found themselves surrounded by boxes for the chinese food place in the foodcourt. Steve rips the box open and they are peer inside to see what it was. Indie frowns and looks up at Steve, it was a locked case.

"Thats definitely not chinese food" he says 

Steve pried open to reveal canisters of a strange green liquid and held it up for them all to observe. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. 

"What the hell?" he asks 

Before they could investigate further, the room began to shudder.

"Is it just me, or did the room move?" Dustin asks 

"Booby traps" Erica whispers 

"Lets just grab that and go" Robin says snatching the vile out of steve's hand and placing it in ericas backpack. Dustin presses the buttons and turns around in a panic

"Which one do I press Erica?" he asks

"Just press the damn button nerd!"

"I'm pressing the button okay?" Dustin exclaims 

"Press open door!" 

"I'm trying!" 

Steve walks over and pushes Dustin out of the way, both of them arguing as Robin and Indie yell at them to get the door open, panic begins to set in. 

"Shit! Hold on!" Steve yelled, grabbing Indie and pulling her close as the elevator plummeted. When it finally jerked to a stop, they were thrown forward. Indie hit her head against the side, a sharp pain radiating through her skull.

"Is everyone okay?" Robin asks 

"Yeah I'm great now that we know russians can't design elevators!" Steve yells as he looks around at the group. Indie remains on the ground holding her hand to her head as he notices. His gaze focuses in on her, before he could ask if she was okay blood trickled down her forehead, his heart stops as he moves forward and sits on the fround in front of her and grabs her shoulders. 

"Indie, you're bleeding!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with worry.

"I'm fine, Steve, it's not that bad" Indie insisted, trying to reassure him despite her dizziness.

"Let me see it" he tries 

"I'm good! Don't worry about me, we have to get out of here" she says brushing him off and standing to her feet, she moves over to the door and looks at the buttons. Steve follows suit and continues to slam them.

"I think we've established those buttons don't work!" Robin says 

"They're buttons they have to do something!" Steve screams

"Steven we don't have a keycard to open the door!" Indie snaps 

"What?" he asks 

"Its an electronic lock, we need a keycard to open it" Robin explains 

"Meaning we're stuck in here" Dustin says

Indie crosses her arms and takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. 

"Just so you nerds are aware I'm supposed to be spending the night at tina's, and tiny always covers for me and if i'm not home for uncle jack's party and my mom finds out you four are responsible she's gonna hunt you down one by one and slit you throats" Erica yells

"I don't care about Tina or uncle jack's party!" Steve yells, slamming his hands on the boxes in front of him "your moms not gonna be able to find us if we're dead in a russian elevator!"

"What if we climbed out" Dustin points to the ceiling where there was a latch. 

Steve and Dustin get on the top of the elevator and look up, only to see that they were hundreds of feet below the surface and nowhere near any other floor. 

Dustin tried to contact anyone on his walkie, but the signal was dead. As the hours passed, they talked, trying to piece together what the Russians might be doing with the mysterious substances and how it related to the Upside Down.

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and Indie leaned against Steve, her head resting on his shoulder as she fell asleep. Steve looked down at her, a mix of affection and concern in his eyes. He wanted to protect her, to tell her everything he felt, but fear held him back.

Unable to sleep, Steve gently move's Indie's head off of his shoulder and gets up, climbing to the top of the elevator where Dustin reamined. 

"You need to chill you're gonna drain the battery on that thing"

"The mall just opened so someone could be in range"

"And you think that some mall cop is gonna come down here and save us?" Steve questions 

"Why are you such a cranky pants after getting to spend the whole night with Indie?" Dustin whispers 

"Shh" steve snaps "jesus christ will you just give this up already?"

"I heard you talking all night"

"We were trying to figure out how to open the door" Steve rolls his eyes "and after being exactly nowhere after eight hours is the reason why I'm feeling just a tad cranky"

Indie woke up from her incredibly short nap when she heard banging. Her eyes snap open and she notices Erica banging the green vile against the metal box. Her eyes widen and she jumps up, grabbing it out of her hands. 

"You need to be careful!" Indie says 

"We don't know what that is" Robin exclaims 

"It could be useful"

"Useful how?" 

"We could survive down here a long time without food but without water we will die"

"I hate to break it to you but this is not water" Robin deadpans

"No but its a liquid and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst I drink"

All the sudden Indie whips around, hearing something outside the door. She and Robin share a look before placing her ears against it. 

"We've got company!" she yells to Steve and Dustin.

They all hide on the roof of the elevator waiting for the soldiers to leave. As soon as they walk out of the elevator they all climb down and Steve jumps forward, sticking the vile under the door to hold it open. They all slip underneath it narrowly missing being crushed by the door. As Steve slips through the vile breaks and the green substance spills on the floor, instantly burning it and sinking through the ground. 

"You still wanna drink that?" Indie asks Erica

"Holy mother of god" Dustin says 

"Jesus christ" Indie exclaims, staring at the neverending hallway they'd found themselves in. 

"Well, I hope you guys are in good shape" Steve says patting Dustin's stomach "looking at you roast beef" 

"Why me?" Dustin asks looking up at Indie. She just wraps her arm around his shoulder and follows Steve as he leads them through the hall. 

As they walk for what feels like hours Dustin rambles "if you look at the engineering alone, this is impressive"

"It's not safe, there's no stairs no fire exit just an elevator that drops you half way to hell" Steve responds 

"They're communists you don't pay people and they cut corners" Erica says, earning a look of surprise from Indie.

"To be fair to our russian comrades I don't think this tunnel was designed for walking" Robin states "they developed a perfect way to transport that cargo"

"It all comes in the mall like any old delivery" Indie starts 

"Then they load up those trucks and nobodys the wiser" Robin finishes 

"Do you think they built this whole mall just to transport the poison?" Steve asks 

"I very seriously doubt its just for the poison," Dustin adds "it's gotta be much more valuable like promethium or something"

"What the hell is promethium?" Steve asks 

"It's what Victor Stone's dad used to make cyborg's bionic and cybernetic components" Robin responds 

"Whatever all I'm saying is that it's probably being used to make something" Dustin finishes 

"Or power something" Indie says "like a nuclear weapon"

"Totally" Robin responds 

"And we're walking towards a nuclear weapon? Thats great" Steve murmers

"But if they're trying to build something, why here? Hawkins of all places?" Robin asks "at the very best we're a toilet stop on the way to disneyland but maybe thats the point" 

Robin continues to ramble as Dustin, Steve, and Indie share knowing looks with one another, slowing down to walk behind them. 

"Do you think the Russians know?" Steve asks 

"About the upside down?" she asks "they could, what are the odds" 

"So it's connected" Steve confirms

Indie shakes her head as a chill runs through her body, there was no way it wasn't all connected back to the upside down. And now here they were again smack in the middle of a situation that was most certainly going to bring their deaths. 

"How?" Steve asks 

"I don't know but its possible" Dustin says 

"I'm sorry is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Robin asks as her and Erica turn around. 

Before they could respond they heard voices—Russian, unmistakable coming through Dustin's walki in Erica's bag. They yank it out and listen closely. 

"It's the code" Robin says 

"wherever the broadcast is coming from-" Dustin starts 

"It's close" Robin finishes "And if there's one thing we know about that signal-" 

"It could reach the surface" Indie states with wide eyes

They continue to walk for several more minutes before two soldiers in a golfcart drive by. They are quick to Duck behind a column and hide from being seen. Steve sticks his head out and observes the area to ensure that they weren't gonna get caught. 

"Okay clear come on lets go" he says leading them forward. 

"That was too close" Indie says following after him

"Relax nobody saw us..." Steve trails off as they come around the corner and see tons of scientists and soldiers walking around, with massive rifles in their hands. Steve curses and pulls them all behind a stack of boxes and she looks back and holds Erica close. 

"I saw it!" Erica whisper yells "first floor northwest"

"Saw what?" Steve asks 

"The comms room!" 

"You saw the comms room? Are you sure?" Steve asks 

"The door was open and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there" she defends 

"That could be a hundred different things" Dustin responds 

"I'll take those odds" Robin says

In that moment Indie is acutely aware of how close Steve and Robin are, every bone in her body felt sick at the sight. She averts her eyes and tries to keep her mind on the situation at hand. Now was not the time for jealousy over a boy who didn't share feelings for her. 

"All right we're gonna move fast and stay low" Steve instructs 

Making a snap decision, they snuck into the nearby comms room. A soldier spotted them, but before he could react, Robin intervened, speaking fluent Russian. Steve screams and sprints forward, shoving the man into the desk. He's quickly shoved across the room and pushed into a desk. The solider tries to grab him and he elbows him in the stomach before slamming a phone into his head and knocking him out cold. The rest of the group stood deadly still and stared at Steve in shock. 

Indie, despite the pain in her head, is the first to break the silence as she smiled at Steve. "Looks like you finally won," she whispered, patting his back.

They didn't have time to celebrate as Robin runs into the room "guys there's something up there!"

They all hurry up the steps and look into the room with a massive machine shooting a beam of energy into the wall trying to open a gate to the upside down. 

"Holy shit" Steve curses in horror, they were right it had been connected all along. 

"Its the gate" Indie gasps 

Steve quickly ushers them down the steps, knowing that they needed to get as far away from this location as possible. 

"I don't understand you've seen this before?" Robin asks 

"Not exactly" Steve responds 

"All you need to know is that it's bad, really really bad" Indie states 

"Like end of the human race bad" Dustin adds

"And you all know about this how?" Robin asks 

"Steve where's your Russian friend?" Erica asks, causing them all to turn and look around, realizing that the solider was gone. 

Alarms blared and they look out the window to see the solider leading a group of more towards them. Steve ushers them all back up the steps and they run quickly. They enter the room with all the scientists and curse as they all turn and stare at the kids in shock. They quickly move out of the office and down several flights of steps, shoivng past scientists. They make it to the edge of the platform where the beam is being shot into the upside down and Dustin freaks out, screaming as he panics. 

"Move!" Indie snaps, grabbing his shirt and leading him down the steps as Steve runs straight through soliders and knocks them to the ground. Several more run up on them and Steve throws barrels towards them. 

"Go go go!" he beckons 

Indie spots a door and yanks it open and ushers everyone inside before she and steve shove it closed. They're quickly surrounded by soldiers who pound merclessly on the door. She looks up at Robin, Erica, and Dustin and shakes her head. 

"Come on let's go!" Robin exclaims 

"Go get some help!" Steve yells

"No not without you!" Dustin pleads 

"Just go!" Indie snaps "keep them safe Robin!"

[mydaroga]

Follow up on the Tune In ask, Thank you for your response!! And please, never apologize for the length, it was greatly insightful. I actually haven't started on the book yet but it came highly recommended to me as The definitive Beatles biography so I was looking around to see what others think of it. Most of the critical opinions I found on this site seem consistent with your criticisms especially about Lewisohn's tendency to cherry pick quotes or imposing a new context on them...

Well, that formatted weird. Sorry. Anyway, I will definitely try to give as thorough an answer as I have time for, so that may mean just a few examples. If you want a deeper dive I can recommend the Another Kind of Mind Series, Fine Tuning. I don't agree entirely with their approach, but I agree for the most part with their findings and concerns, if that makes sense. And then there's Serene's blog entry which does a more thorough examination of the way Lewisohn ... hrm, shall we say, stretches citations to mean... whatever he wants.

I don't know that I am going to be able to go into quite as much detail here as I didn't keep these good notes while reading. But I can think of a few things that stuck out to me before I listened/read these other takes. And I'm happy to keep talking about this or expand, I'm not saying I don't like doing this, just that I am not gonna ... okay I'm going to write an essay? But I won't be as meticulous as I should be.

The first thing that made me stop reading and just go track down what was actually going on was a passage in which Lewisohn is talking about teen Paul's resistance to getting a job, going against Jim. From Tune In:

Paul still hated anyone telling him what to do -- 'It just never occurred to me to listen to other people' -- but when Jim insisted, sometimes Paul did as bid... as John scathingly noted. He went down to the Labour Exchange and Renshaw Hall and landed a ��10-a-week Christmas-period job with SPD Ltd, Speedy Prompt Deliveries.

Now, all on its own without context this is a great Paul McCartney quote because you go, "yeah that checks out." I plan on using it as a sort of Macca meme, you know? But it was soooo Paul I thought, "wait, in what context did he say that? Like, he doesn't listen ever? He's admitting he just doesn't listen to anyone?"

So weirdly, it's not actually footnoted, but I found the source. It's a 1980 interview with Tim Rice, which is entertaining in its own right because he tells the guy who co-wrote Jesus Christ Superstar and Evita and later The Lion King that, you know, musicals are boring. Anyway, not the point.

It took me awhile to find the actual quote, because it's really a throwaway, almost self-deprecating aside, in the context of how he's listening to people more now because he's realized too many smart people just talk and it might be good to listen some.

So okay. Paul did say that, and he's admitting there was a time he didn't take the time to listen, but he's doing it in a sort of jokey way. I guess it's fair to say, generally, sure, Paul has a tendency to be headstrong and go his own way and that certainly would have been a factor in his psychological battle with Jim Mac over going to get his teaching license or whatever. It's not like Lewisohn is bending the facts of anything. It's not really a big deal. But it was the moment that clued me in that he's not necessarily using like for like. There's plenty of quotes about how Paul felt about this time in his life without using a joke from 1980 to shore up your point about his resistance to dad, in a paragraph that implies he's saying it about his resistance to dad. And when you've decide that "it just never occurred to me to listen to other people" can mean "and that's why he didn't listen to Jim about work, except this time he did," I don't know. It leaves a funny taste in my mouth because then you could use it for anything Paul decides to do differently. If that makes sense. If it applies there, it applies to anything Paul does. And Paul obviously didn't mean that in 1980.

Also maybe this is more nuanced, but while "Paul still hated anyone telling him what to do" is a true statement in any time in his life, that quote itself? Is neither necessarily relevant to being told what to do or very revealing. It actually is entirely unnecessary. The passage would be completely benign and throw me no red flags without it.

Like any of the points I make or, frankly, I've heard others make, it's less that he's saying untrue things and more that by using these citations in ways that remove them from context and add them to a different context, he is painting a picture but passing it off as fact. In addition, he often will use a quote from John's angry, Lennon Remembers period to interpret Paul's motives in the early 60s, rather than using, oh I dunno, a quote from.... Paul? Or a nicer quote from John when he's contradicted himself again? Again it's all legit sourcing and citing! But the contextualizing creates something he's selling as free of interpretation which is anything but.

The other one I've been thinking about is laid out quite well in I think episode 3 of the AKOM pod, and it's about Paul's creative development. While John's is described as original and a free spirit and rebellious in his artistic ambitions--which he was--Paul's artistic endeavors almost always come with a weasel word or caveat. What I mean is, John is always described as inventive; Paul is a gifted mimic. This despite a lot of attention paid to how John was basically copying his favorite cartoonists and artists--he even says at some point everything he does is Just William and Lewis Carroll. But somehow when he does it, it's extraordinary. He's got his own voice, while Paul is a talented parrot. Lewisohn gives props to all of Paul's many accomplishments but there's always either some kind of adjective like that to take away from it or this thing that creeps in where everything Paul does is for show. There are numerous places in Tune In where Paul is ostentatiously reading difficult books so he can be seen reading them. Anytime he's trying something new or going to explore a new art form or theater experience, Lewisohn has to point out that he wants to be seen to be doing something clever. When he writes songs, Lewisohn points out that he's not just writing songs, he's thinking about the image of being a writer or something like that. It's never because he's artistic, or likes the thing. He needs to be seen as someone liking the thing.

Now, we do have a quote from Paul about this. He does mention thinking about the image of a poet with the pipe and the leather patches, and he does at one point get a pipe and you know, famously pretend to be French to try to pull birds. (He does this again on that little week off he takes in France, years later, reminiscing about imagining he's a novelist in a cafe.) It's not that I'm saying Paul isn't capable of being pretentious! (I still have the beret I insisted on getting for my birthday when I was 16. I'm not immune. I still look great in it.) But Paul's, again, self-deprecating description of himself as a goofy teen appears to be the only 'proof' Lewisohn has that his reading, his art, his going to shows alone no one else cares about, is a pretense.

Again. It's not a huge deal and it's not like Paul didn't factually do all of this. It's that in a text that he's insisted in the front matter is free of speculation, Lewisohn's included numerous interpretations of Paul's (and others') motives without any direct proof/citation for those interpretations. That, I'm afraid, is speculative. And that's fine for an author to engage in--but he needs to be clear about it.

For the record he does this with John, too. He interprets numerous, sometimes almost contradictory actions of John's as "evidence" of his ability to lead. Sometimes he's like, in front and sometimes he's doing nothing and Lewisohn will conclude this was John also leading.

The point of all this isn't, like I said in my original post, that I think any one of these things is that bad. Paul's kinda pretentious? Maybe sometimes he did like to be seen reading War and Peace or whatever? Maybe John sitting back and watching what his mates are going to do is leadership? The problem, for me, is that it's not presented in a way that meets the premise of Lewisohn's introduction, which promises a work free of the prejudices and unsubstantiated speculation of his forebears. And I really do think that Lewisohn has convinced himself that he's done enough research and been a keen enough "Paul watcher" that it no longer counts as interpretation. I fear he may actually believe that he's done the math.

Again, I think you should read it. I loved the attention to detail and you'll get a lot out of it. But just be aware of this tendency, which I no longer think I'm imagining. And these are just the first two things I thought of and wanted to rant about.

[imtouchestarved]

Chapter eight

Idk how to write combat, so I REALLY tried my best. Don't judge me. it's my first time😭(this chapter is quite long tho, just warning!)

"Oh no, the train already set off," (Y/n) said as she was panting from the nonstop running to the station. 'Come on, think.. you have to get there somehow.' She thought and looked around her.

She already asked the people in the station when the next train is going to arrive, but no one could give her an answer.

'If only I would've arrived sooner,' she pouted and crossed her arms, angry with herself. 'I assume I have no other choice,' she came to the conclusion. 'I'll have to get there on foot.'

...

Her eyes felt so heavy, she won't be able to sleep tonight, theres a few hours left till the sunrise. The only thing that kept her awake was her crow that kept repeating :"Kaww! Kaww! This way, this way!"

'God.. keep yourself together, (Y/n).' She thought as she rubbed her eyes. At that point, she already ran for hours nonstop, only stopping to drink and regulate her breathing.

She followed the railroads, but the view hasn't changed much since the beginning. She started to lose hope she would get there on time.

"How much do I have left?!" She yelled at her crow, praying she would get a normal answer considering the last ones.

"800 meters! The flame hashira is only 800 meters away!"

"800?? Thank God! Only a little bit more!" She started speeding up, and in the distance, she began to see the train. Only it had completely fallen apart. What the hell happened? Did they kill the demon?

As she got there, the first thing she saw was Zenitsu and Nezuko helping clearing out the people from the train. When they saw her, they looked surprised. "(L/n)-san?!" Zenitsu yelled, "What are you doing here??"

She only shook her head, signaling she had no time or air to explain. "R..Rengoku-san..where is..Rengoku.." she managed to blurt out, desperately trying to regulate her breathing.

"U-um.. I think him and Tanjiro are over there," he pointed forward. (Y/n) bowed as a thank you and started heading there. So many questions started to cross her mind. Did they kill it? Then how does her feeling not go away? Why is it only getting stronger?

A few seconds later, she started to hear it, Rengokus breathing style. Is there another demon here? It surely felt like it. "(L/n)-san!!" She then heard and turned to the source of the voice. Tanjiro was lying on the floor, looking wounded and panicked. A few meters away from him was rengoku, fighting savagely with a demon with pink hair and criminal marks all over his body . That aura.. could it be an upper moon?

"Please!" Tanjiro begged, "please help Rengoku-san fight! I tried to help, but they're too fast, I can't find an entry!" She took a minute to stare at the battle. Even though she was full of worries, she couldn't stop admiring the fight. Such an amazing power..

She then snapped out of it and quickly rushed to Tanjiro, "No, it's a good thing you were smart enough to back off. Are you okay? Where are you wounded?" She started to scan his body for injuries but was immediately stopped by him. "I got stabbed in the stomach, but I will be okay. Forget about me, go help him!" He pointed at the battle, and she had no choice but to nod, and find a way to enter.

Tanjiro was right. It was almost impossible to keep track of them. The demon didn't use a weapon and used his fists, but he looked as much as intimidating as an upper moon could be.

"Aha! Is it my lucky day? Two hashira has honored me with their presence!" He laughed as she succeeded in entering the battle. Rengoku took a quick peek in her direction, and a smile started to spread his lips. "Now then.. let's see what you're capable of..!"

It was a tough battle. considering the amount of energy (Y/n) used just to get here, She was at her limit. If Rengoku wasn't here to cover up for her, most likely, she would already be dead by now. But her being a little bit slower than she usually is doesn't mean she wasn't a hashira.

"Ice breathing, fourth form.."

"Flame breathing, second form.."

They began to say. Only less than an hour until sunrise, they have to keep up fighting.

"Snow drifts!!"

"Rising scorching sun!!"

They leased their attacks. But Akaza didn't budge. He effortlessly dodged them as he jumped in the air, beginning to unleash his next attack. "Nice team work you got there! If you both become demons, you will definitely be one of the upper moons!" He called as he successfully landed an attack on (Y/n)'s shoulder. if she wouldn't move in time, it would've definitely ripped it off.

She moaned in pain, but her grip on her sword didn't loosen. (Y/N)!" Rengoku called as he blocked Akaza's attacks. "I GOT THIS!" She replied. "I got this.." she whispered to herself.

"Ice breathing, sixth form.." her lungs burned; her body ached; and she definitely had at least 2 ribs broken.

Rengoku's situation wasn't less serious. His ribs were broken; the blood coming out from a cut on his forehead kept blinding him, resulting in him struggling to block all Akaza's attacks, and he kept spitting blood.

"Shattering of a frozen heart!" She yelled as she got closer to his neck. 'I'm close! I'm so close!' She thought, but the minute the cold blade touched his neck, the demon threw his arm, resulting in her getting punched in the ribs.

She spat blood, her eyes winded, and she got thrown away to the other side of the field.

She heard Rengoku yelling her name over and over, but the girl couldn't speak. She couldn't move. 'Am I going to die?' She thought as her vision faded, and her eyes began to shut.

'No..no, get up! You promised, you promised Father you would succeed! You promised to make him proud..' she slowly reached out her arms and lifted her upper body as she spat more blood.

Getting up on her legs seemed like the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, let alone walking and heading towards their direction. She slowly crawled, ignoring any sharp pain her body was signaling to her. The battle isn't done. The demon isn't dead.

When she was a few meters away, it's like everything next was in slow motion. Akaza's fist was getting closer to Rengoku's stomach. (Y/n)'s eyes winded. As this speed, his fist will completely destroy his internal organs and might even impale him!

'Oh no, this is bad. this is bad..' her lips parted, preparing to at least warn him. But then she realized that even if she did, he wouldn't be able to block an attack at that speed. What about Tanjiro? Where is he? She looked in his direction. No, too far, way too far. He would never make it.

Her eyes started to well up tears. 'This can't be happening..' despair started to wash all over her.

"Don't act like a toddler! Get up on your feet! When the time comes and you'll face a demon, it won't listen to your sobs! It wouldn't hesitate to slash your throat open and feast on your flesh! Now get up, always remember :at a When time you can't use your mind first, always attack no matter what! Even if you can't feel your limbs, even if you're blinded by fear. You grip your sword and won't let go until your last breath!"

Her eyes winded by the memory that suddenly flashed her. 'Father..'

She took a deep breath, not minding the piercing pain in her ribs.

"Ice breathing tenth form.."

She got into position.

"Tundra neptune!!"

The sun started peeking from behind the mountains. Akaza's arm was slashed off, his eyes winded, and a smile started to spread on his face. "Such great power, become a demon, (Y/n)! And your strength won't go to waste with the years!" He laughed with joy, what a maniac.

(Y/n), panting and her legs wobbling. "I would never.." she blurted, having to stop as she coughed blood. "I would never become a monster like you.."

She fell on her knees, wrapping her arm over her stomach as she tried to stop coughing. "(Y/n)!" Rengoku put his hand on her back, leading her to lean on him.

Akaza hummed, "Hmm.. you might not survive with those injuries, (Y/n).. with becoming a demon, one should never have to fear death again!" He insisted, but then he noticed the sun rays washing over the field and didn't hesitate to run off. "I will be back!" He shouted as he ran into the forest.

"Ren..goku..san.." she started to say as he held her close to his chest. "What? What is it, (Y/n)? Please just hang on a little more, reinforcement are on the way!" He begged as he watched the girl slowly giving up to her injuries. His hand cupped her cheek. "I'm getting.. tired.." her eyes were close to shutting off, but Rengoku tapped her gently on her face. "I know, but please don't close your eyes just yet. You might have a concussion. Tell me something, anything! Tell me about your family, tell me the reason why you became a demon slayer!"

Her breathing was shallow, and with every single one she took, she winced in pain. "Well.. it night not be.. an impressive nor heart-wrenching story like everyone else's.." she cleared her throat.

"My father..joined the corps.. when he was a teen.. but after a few of..his first missions, he grew so afraid of facing another demon.. and then he left the corps.."

Rengoku nodded and wiped with his thumb the blood that dripped from the corners of her lips. "Good, keep talking. What happened after?" He asked to keep her awake.

(Y/n) looked at Rengoku's face and grinned, "All his exceptions from himself shattered, he spiraled in despair. And then I was born. Ever since I learned how to grip, there wasn't a day I hadn't lift up a sword. At first, it was like a fun little game. For me, it was just another time quality with my beloved father.." her smile then became sorrowful, and salty tears started to stream down her face. "As I grew up, it became horribly suffocating. I couldn't have my own hobbies, I couldn't have my own dreams, because of HIS. My thoughts and needs didn't matter. the worst part was: he was never satisfied. Not when I passed my final selection, not when I slowly ranked up. Not even when i became a hashira."

She shook her head slightly, small sobs came out of her mouth. "When I told him the news, he asked: 'Are you the strongest hashira out there?' And when I couldn't answer him, he frowned in disapproval. My mother was always proud of me, though. And for that, I am forever thankful."

There was a small silence, Rengoku had to take in all the information. "Hey.." she whispered, "I might die right here -" she started to say but was cut off by Rengoku's protests. "Don't say that, you will he fine!" He stated.

She smiled and reached one shaky hand to his hair, tucking it behind his ear. "I want you to say to my parents that I love them. And please, thank mitsuri-san and Shinobu-San for being so, so kind to me.." She placed her hand back to her lap, too exhausted to keep it up. "And I want to thank you too. for your presence, for our little conversations and most importantly, simply your existence. You bring so much joy to the people around you, kyojuro."

She called him by his first name, and it felt nothing but pleasant. She then closed her eyes, too exhausted to keep them open. But the minute she closed them, she felt something warm drip on her face and opened them again.

In front of her, the flame hashira's eyes were full of tears, dripping down his face. He stifled his sobs, but his face was red and wet.

She frowned, "No.. please don't cry.." she reached out her arm once again, cupping his face with her palm as she wiped his tears with her thumb. "Don't cry, don't cry, kyojuro.." she whispered as she tried not to cry with him.

"Don't drown with grief yet.. I'm still here.." she started to say, but then Rengoku closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers as he said silenty, his voice soaked with sorrow and pleading: "Don't leave me.." he begged as he sobbed, "please.."

"Please.."

[shostakobitchh]

chapter 47 sneak peek!

Squirrel was not nearly as appetizing as Sirius had thought it would be. It had looked better sitting in the tree and staring at him with black eyes than dead with it’s fucking hair sticking to his tongue.

It tasted like shit after a couple of bites — maybe Azkaban had done something to his sense of taste, but then again, Sirius had never had the pleasure of eating fucking squirrel. It was the only thing he’d been able to catch in this sodding Forest — everything else was a magical creature — far too fast for him to catch, even as Padfoot. Sirius didn’t dare turn back into his human form yet. He’d be even more fucking useless as a man than a dog— he didn’t have a wand, and was there really even a point to changing back if he couldn’t do any magic?

This had to be the worst thought out plan he’d ever fucking had. Goddamn Wormtail —

Well at least he was out of Azkaban. That was a start. And away from Bellatrix. He hoped she chipped her teeth biting away at the bars — crazy bitch.

Sirius spat out the remaining squirrel he was chewing at and padded away, looking for the break in the tree line. The students must have arrived at Hogwarts by now, he’d been traveling for ages. 

He didn’t even know where to start— he didn’t even have a plan. Merlin’s saggy balls, he didn’t even have a surefire way of getting into the fucking school. He could only imagine the professor’s reactions if Sirius sodding Black walked through the front door— he’d be Kissed before dinner, and then, they’d probably throw a Feast in celebration. 

He needed a fucking strategy. Those took time, though, and time wasn’t a luxury Sirius could afford. He’d had all the fucking time in the world in Azkaban, spending his nights planning the escape, when the line of Dementors would be thinnest, when Bella had lulled herself into that haze of detachment and euphoria. Sirius had heard her screaming almost four floors down once he’d worked his way between the bars, and even then, it took six guards drawing straws to choose who would go to check on her. 

Sometimes, he wondered if Remus had seen it too and recognized Peter. He would’ve dismissed it, probably. Denial had been his speciality, after all. Deny deny deny and you didn’t have to face up to it, deny deny deny. That’s why they’d figured he was the spy, anyway. Lily was the only one who doubted it, but that was Lily’s specialty, seeing the good in everyone. It had driven Sirius fucking ballistic. 

He stared at the tree line, surveying it for cover. He’d spent twelve years locked away from a crime he hadn’t committed— surely he could wait a week or so for Wormtail to make an appearance. That would give him time to scope the grounds, find any points of entry that might be able to work in the meantime. 

Just a while longer, he told himself. He’d get that little fucking shithead, he’d grab him in his maw and do what he should have done that day — a little while longer — only a while — 

A week or so to think about how Sirius was going to take Wormtail  apart. The exoneration could come after, Sirius supposed, because what greater proof was there than a body? 

He knew all too well. A finger had been enough for Sirius, he could only imagine Fudge’s reaction with an entire corpse. 

Still hungry, Sirius trotted along the thick foliage, making his way to the west end of the castle. He’d be able to see Gryffindor Tower from there and scavenge what he could from Hagrid’s hut. He always had food lying around for animals, and the food he fed his pets had to be better than the slop they gave Sirius in Azkaban (and squirrel). After a while, though, Sirius began to hear voices, voices from behind him, from within the Forest. 

Keeping low to the ground and covered by the bushes, Sirius stalked closer to the source, recognizing the chatter of students as a voice bellowed over them — Hagrid. 

“Everyone gather ’round the fence here! That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

He was a professor, now? Christ, what else had he missed? Next thing Sirius knew, he’d find out that there was an ex-Death Eater teaching Defense or some other bullshit. Sirius poked his nose through some shrubs, scanning over the class, noting that it was Gryffindors and Slytherins, until he saw —

A low growl escaped from the back of Sirius’s throat. It was the ginger boy Sirius had seen with Wormtail — a Weasley. Ryan or Rolph or something. And beside him was — 

The baby — her. Ariel. Christ, the name was still too much of a fucking mouthful. She was a clone of Lily, dark auburn hair and a clump of freckles over her nose, but she was shorter and stood almost hunched, her arms wrapped around herself as though she were cold. When she tilted her head in Sirius’ direction, he noticed that she had dark circles beneath her eyes, almost as dark as her eyes.  

And then her eyes met his, and they widened. 

Sirius felt himself give a little whine, his tag wagging involuntary. James would’ve been relieved, knowing she turned out like Lily. Sirius had made the comment to him about the baby getting his bloody magic hair and he’d gone a little white at that.

[swampgh0stt]

Did I ever mention the fic I was writing, inspired by Aftonbuilt? 

I wrote a smut fic as a stand-alone found HERE, but anyway. Here’s a WIP for the fic that I am slowly chipping away at 

“Well, this is the place.” 

 Indeed. The dilapidated building hardly looked safe for entry. Looming before them, the windows were boarded up with rotting wood and tarps to prevent entry from unwanted guests. It was silent all around, but there was a strong presence among them, as if the abandoned pizzeria itself were telling them to go away. T’aaku surveyed the scene, his honey-golden eyes narrowed behind the goggles on his face. What had once been a sanctuary for children had now turned vile with age. Once vibrant colors were washed out from exposure, mere shells of their former selves. The cartoon styled sign which read “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza” hung by one corner, dangling in a silent threat display. Childhood innocence never looked so decayed, or at least in T’aaku’s opinion. This was the source of all that wonder and excitement his boss displayed. This disgusting, crumbling pizzeria… 

T’aaku could only imagine what the inside looked like. 

He turned to the man beside him, someone who had previously helped build this place, and wondered what he thought seeing his old creation in such a state. Without uttering a word, a question T’aaku hadn’t even asked was answered suddenly: 

“Oh, I’m not going in there.” 

He blinked in surprise, first glancing back at the building before returning his gaze to the man with him. “What?” 

“No way!” He scoffed and took a step back, asserting his point. “Place is haunted. Real bad too! I don’t need to bring that shit home with me.” 

The explanation was followed up by a roll of his eyes. T’aaku didn’t bother to protest. People and their superstitions… “Fine,” he sighed in resignation, reaching a hand down to the canine companion beside him. The German Shepherd was equally on edge, but too loyal to complain. Shane had always been a good dog, amazing even. Despite his apprehension, he would follow his master without hesitation. T’aaku knew he could always rely on him, if nothing or no one else. “Run me through the layout again?” 

“It’s a long-shot, like I told your boss,” the man explained with a heavy exhale. “I don’t know if anything’s even in there. But you might find something worthwhile! Or… you might regret it.” Only time would tell. 

T’aaku sincerely doubted he would regret whatever he found. His boss, Johnny, was quite passionate about this place and the memories he had growing up. His passions sent T’aaku driving all the way from San Diego, California to Hurricane, Utah. And fine, it was only a six hour drive… But six hours with a dog in the van tended to turn into something longer. He would just be happy to return with something, honestly. 

Once given the layout of the building again, the two men parted ways. T’aaku turned towards the pizzeria, eager to get in and get out. His temporary companion hurried back to his truck, pausing only briefly to ask: “You’re bringing the dog with you?” 

The mechanic didn’t break in his stride, holding up a hand to wave off the question entirely. “He’s got shoes,” he added. 

“Yeah, but--” 

His concerns were quickly shut down. “Shane’s the only other guy I’d want in there with me. We’re good here, don’t worry.” T’aaku didn’t bother to glance behind him, to see whatever expression the man made. He was happy to hear the sudden roar of an old truck’s engine, and the roll of tires crunching over dead leaves and fallen twigs. Finally, they were alone. 

“Man, I’d thought he’d never leave,” T’aaku chuckled, turning his attention to the canine beside him. Shane let out a huff and flicked one of his ears back in uncertainty. “I know, I know. It’s kinda spooky, right? But that’s what makes it fun! Besides… Maybe Johnny will stop obsessing over these animatronics once we bring one back to him.” 

Busting out the rotted wood panels over a window was easy. T’aaku climbed through and hopped down without a care in the world, turning back to snap his fingers. Shane jumped through, bounding up to catch the windowsill with his heavy paws and drop down gracefully. He snorted at all the dust in the air, shaking his massive body as if to rid his fur of it. “Remember when we found that cosplay Foxy head, bud?” T’aaku’s voice echoed in the abandoned space. “Fuck, he was so happy until he figured out it wasn’t real. I tried to tell him, but noooo. Anyway…” Now that they had breached, it was time to find what they were looking for (hopefully) and go home. “Shane,” T’aaku’s tone turned serious, as it usually did before he gave a command. 

The canine stiffened up, attentive and awaiting his next order. “Find it!” As soon as the words left his master’s mouth, the Shepherd bounded ahead.

His clothed paws tapped against the grimy tile floors, each sound reverberating off the walls as he took the lead and snuffed around. There were all the usual smells of an abandoned building: Mildew, rotting wood, perhaps mold? But there was something else that teased his nose: the distinct smell of a decomposing corpse somewhere. He tasted copper and iron on his tongue, mixed with putrefied flesh. 

As Shane led the way, never straying too far ahead, T’aaku took the chance to get a good look at his surroundings once more. This had obviously been the main entrance… The doors were blocked off behind him, reminiscent of some horror movie where a killer traps his prey. They didn’t get in very far before Shane was rushing up to a door on their right, so close to the entrance, and scratching at the wooden boards blocking it up. 

The source of the smell was inside! 

“Damn, you found it already?” T’aaku tilted his head to one side as he rolled his shoulders. “Shit. I kinda wanna check the whole place out first! We can come back to that later. Good job, boy!” 

As he moved on ahead, Shane remained in place. He could hear something inside, something moving. With as much time as he spent around T’aaku, he knew the sounds of a machine. This sounded like those metal-creatures T’aaku worked on, but… different. It was coming closer, stepping towards the door… His fur bristled between his shoulders, lips curling back in a low growl that scared even his master and made him think twice about his venture. Shane hardly ever bared his teeth, but his master had to know! Whatever was inside.. It was evil. He could feel that much. 

“Shane.” T’aaku called for his companion as he ventured away from the boarded up door. This was an opportunity he simply wouldn’t pass on, getting to see this dilapidated place and come back with ideas for their haunted house attraction! But Shane refused to move. He didn’t care about the rest of the building, he wanted to confront whatever lay behind the door, chase it away before it could harm his pack-mate. “We’ll come back for it, alright?”

[187days]

Day One Hundred Thirty-Three

My car was the last one in the parking lot today because I went back to my classroom after track practice to do some work. Of course, now that the former president’s been indicted, I’ll have to change up my APGOV plans, so some of the work I did will have to be undone. But that’s okay. Teachers- especially if they teach subjects related to current affairs- have to be adaptable.

More on that in my next entry. Let me go back to the start of my day now.

I spent my prep time leaving feedback on essay drafts so that my ninth graders could revise them when they came to class. Mostly, I was just correcting grammar, and adding suggestions here and there for how to add detail or improve phrasing. I’m very proud of my students for the work they put in, and told them they should be proud of themselves, as well.

I did catch my first AI-generated essay, though. The vocabulary and syntax made it obvious to me that it was not my student’s writing, but I couldn’t find a source it was copied from. I asked him to define a couple of the words I had a feeling he didn’t know, and he couldn’t do it; he knew I was onto him, at that point, and told me what he’d done He’s going to revise, use his own words, and properly cite his sources (that was my other clue: no parenthetical citations, which are required). But, man, what a time we’re living in, right?

Anyways, after students finished revising, they read their books and prepared for tomorrow’s unit-ending content quiz. A handful of them did all of that and still had time to spare, so they went and got a cribbage board from another teacher. Now, I’ve never seen anyone, let alone a group of teenagers, play cribbage, so that was fun. Once class ended, I grabbed lunch from the culinary class’ cafe (delicious) and rearranged my tables for the discussion assessment I had planned for APGOV. 

And that? Was epic. 

Students came in with a minimum of eight questions about Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail” and Malcolm X’s “The Ballot or the Bullet.” I asked for one of them to open the discussion by asking one of their questions, two students immediately volunteered, and the conversation rolled for the next eighty minutes. I chimed in a couple of times to add context- ie, quickly teaching them about redlining because I could tell, from the way their were talking to each other Malcolm X’s economic ideas, that they weren’t fully aware of it’s impact- but I mostly just listened in. They had such insightful things to say about ideas in both texts- they had a fascinating discussion about just and unjust laws, for example- and they were refreshingly honest about the discomfort they felt when reading Malcolm X, in particular. They ended up going on some tangents, too: the Vietnam War, the difference in the media landscape of the 1960s versus now, the impact of social media on modern discourse about race or any issue (which led to another tangent about The Restrict Act), but I didn’t mind that at all. It just added more layers.

At the end of the block, I thanked them, they told me they’d had fun talking and listening to each other, and we all agreed it’d been an awesome discussion. I hope they’re proud of themselves for it! I took notes while it was happening so that I could provide them with detailed, specific feedback, which was one of the things I did after practice. 

The team stayed indoors today because it was positively frigid outside, and the wind was making it even worse. Winter just does not want to let go up here. But, anyways, The Head Coach and I put the sprinters and jumpers through a  workout that was similar to the one they’d done on Tuesday (added difficulty this time, some higher wicket hurdles to jump over). A bunch of my ninth graders walked by as I was leaded stretches- they were headed outside the play basketball- and it was funny because they hadn’t seen me in “Coach mode,” and I could see from their facial expressions that they weren’t expecting my vibe to be so different. 

Anyways. 

It was a busy and awesome day, and a bit longer than usual. More fun tomorrow!

[notes-from-the-neath]

A diary entry

Although the book's pages are still largely empty, this journal is beginning to look slightly more worn-in - a section of the leather on the back cover is lightly scratched, as though its owner had been leaning it upon a rough surface while writing. The second entry reads:

"The first of April, 1899 the fourth.

"Upon arrival to the Neath, I had hoped to find answers. While I suspect that this week has left me with rather more questions than answers, I feel that at least they are a better variety of question, and that I am beginning to locate - as if searching by fingertip in darkness - the points which require most attention for a satisfactory resolution.

"I have been rather fortunate in that my initial forays into employment have complemented these desires well; I have conducted a number of minor investigations upon request, most being relatively simple matters. One, though, has left... something of a weight on my mind. I had known that all manner of impossible things were made possible in London, but the discovery of the poor young Comtessa slowly turning to stone... the thought still shakes me. At the time I had considered whether it might not be a kinder thing, to give her a true death as a member of humanity. The thought of my own body becoming stone fills me with nothing but a sick dread, and yet... I could not bring myself to decide something so final for her. If it were true that she chose to become stone, what right had I to overrule her in that choice? What good would it have done, when either way she would be lost to the world she had known? I still cannot say that I know I took the right path on that night, but surely there is not evil in having let her have what chances of life are left to her. Surely.

"I will not dwell on the matter for now; it is done, and it cannot be undone. I am at least fortunate that the troubling business led me to acquaint myself with the singular talent that is the Implacable Detective, of whom I had heard so much praise. I provided her with assistance on some minor escapade involving a mandrake, and she in turn has passed on a little investigative work when she has been otherwise occupied, which has proven decidedly more lucrative than my previous endeavours. To this end, I have chosen to allow my focus to move on from my employment in investigative work for the moment, with the reassurance that should I wish to return, I am in good stead to find future paying cases with her aid.

"I have, however, chosen to retain a few investigative projects for my own curiosity. Of particular note are a particular Curate and a lady who was introduced as his sister, although from what I have gleaned I must hope that this is a falsehood - although many taboos of the world above go unremarked in the Neath, I cannot believe that incest would be included in that number, and I have slipped glimpses of letters that leave little doubt in my mind that they do not see each other in a familiar manner. I do not know why exactly they would choose to present themselves as siblings, but there is clearly something afoot, and if I am not mistaken it may well involve Hell, for I have heard concerning whispers regarding the selling of souls linked to such a hallowed place as the Church. For now, I am choosing to slowly ingratiate myself to them both so I may decide what to do with the fullest clarity.

"Another matter I have been introduced to concerns an individual I known only as the Cheesemonger. From what little I can glean, she is a figure in the world of intrigues referred to in Fallen London as the Great Game, and evidently one of some renown to those in such circles. I had fully expected that she would be found only if she wished to be, but did succeed in making myself known, and hope I will see some benefit to it in time. If knowledge is currency, who would better be able to source it? However, given the foolishness of expecting spies to readily part with their secrets, I have found a rather promising avenue for my own research: an area known as the Forgotten Quarter.

"I am told that the Forgotten Quarter is all that remains of the Fourth City of the Bazaar; London is evidently the Fifth. I had, of course, seen a number of examples of supposed relics of this departed city, but they were frankly somewhat uninformative as to the character of the city itself. Exploring the Quarter, by contrast, has proven rather more revelatory. The relics one finds there are not only of far more reliable providence, but are frankly marvellous, with one find in particular outshining all others thus far. The Correspondence Stones! Words struggle to describe their mysteries - not helped by a regrettable tendency of the symbols upon them to encourage both eye strain and blinding headaches upon prolonged examination - and yet I succeeded well enough to pen a little study which attracted rather flattering amounts of attention. It seems that before long I may once again find myself welcomed to a University's campus - and, rather unlike my previous studies, without the need for any dissembling! for gender seems to be viewed as entirely irrelevant should one have sufficient thirst for knowledge. I intend to take full advantage of the welcome I have been offered in good time, but there are other matters that I must attend to before I devote myself to those solely academic; there is yet much to be done.

"I shall finish today's entry at that; time continues apace, regardless of the calendrical oddities of London, and I have business to attend to. I can but hope that it continues to be informative."

[mydissociativediaries]

1/28/2023: Boredom

Second entry for 1/28/2023.

I'm BORED. I don't know what to do. I hate myself for it. I barely have anything going on. Working online has its advantages, and I prefer it to retail and working on other people's schedule, but what do I have going on in real life?

I'm not going to school. (I don't want to go back, but still.) I'm not working in person, not even part time. I have friends, but I feel so shitty most of the time that I don't hang out with them often.

I could apply for a part-time job, but I can barely function. How long would that even last?

My sister is a piece of shit, but I do envy the fact that (as far as I know) she has an active lifestyle. Goes to work (I don't know where she's working now), hangs out with the guy that she's dating, probably does stuff around the house, visits friends and my parents. I don't know what her exact schedule is, but I'm sure that she has more going on than I do.

I know that I'm wasting my life, and I hate it.

Some kind of sickness really did infect my life. I experienced abuse, but something was "off" even before that started. I still suspect that it comes from these mysterious repressed memories.

I have another memory that's strongly tied to that. I'm older in this memory (maybe 11 or 12, I'm not sure) and finding a book about vampires in a dark bookstore. The bookstore was a little dark and musty. I can feel the darkness settling over me again.

This probably happened in autumn because--again--I strongly associate this memory with that season. Maybe it didn't, and I just connected the two because it's related to those repressed memories, but autumn definitely has a lot of negative associations for me.

Anyway, I was thinking about it a few days ago and trying to dig deeper, and I felt that darkness so intensely. Not as intense as I did at the time, but I could feel it settling over me. That scene was another turning point in my life and not in a good way.

I hate my younger self in a lot of ways, but I actually felt sorry for myself this time. That girl was so alone and troubled, and nobody helped her. She didn't even really know what was going on. She just knew that a horrifying cloud of dread and anxiety was settling over her yet again.

Nobody asked her what was going on. Admittedly, she tried to hide it, but her parents probably noticed that she wasn't the happy child she'd been years ago. They just didn't care 🤷‍♀️ Always chalked it up to moodiness and brattiness.

Meanwhile, they fell over themselves getting my POS sister to the doctor and a therapist when she experienced depression when she was 13. Because, you know, that's different. I was just a moody little brat--and let's be real, they probably still see me that way--but when my sister's not happy, then whoa, something's going on. She has REAL problems.

But yeah, I left part of myself in that dark bookstore. Autumn came again. The eerie dread was back and wouldn't lift for months. I don't remember exactly when it went away, but I'm sure that it took a while.

I also remember the same bright sunlight outside that bookstore that I (apparently) saw in my repressed memories. I can see the leaves swirling again, although I think that I imagined that part.

That sounds super ominous. Seeing the bright light and the leaves swirling again.

My childhood was also full of stress and triggers and overstimulation and sensory overload, so I'm sure that contributed to it. I don't think that the repressed memory is the only source of my stress, but it was the catalyst for something. Maybe where my fear and anxiety started. And it's not just anxiety.

Thanks for reading,

📚