#tryin to break out of my art block | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magnoliasinbloom · 4 years ago

Text

Lie To Me - 17

AO3 :: Previously

“You must stay close, Fraser.” John Grey’s tone is stern, clipped and anxious.

“I didna intend to let her out of my sight.” Jamie breaks away from the phone for a moment to shove his head through a shirt neckline, and checks his mobile for the hundredth time.

It has been a tense two weeks, while the SCD gets their paperwork and warrants in order. There cannot be any mistakes, or the MacKenzies and their company will get away scot-free, no pun intended. Jamie had returned to the office with little fanfare, but was well aware that he was being watched again. His decision to send Claire away had been a good one.

There had been certain buzz about the upcoming event, but Jamie hadn’t received an invitation himself—for obvious reasons, he thought. He had appraised Murtagh of the fundraiser so he could contact Grey, but no one knew anything; purposefully orchestrated, but no specific details beyond that. Wheedling Louise to add his name to the list to no avail, he’d had to come up with an alternative plan to be close to Claire and protect her as he’d promised.

Grey prattles on in Jamie’s ear, and he looks at the screen once more. No new messages from Claire; the last had been an hour ago, a racy selfie of Claire in her barely-there underwear as she dressed for the fundraiser. Suddenly, a certain word brings him crashing back to Earth.

“What? Ye can’t!”

“Of course I can’t, Fraser,” Grey says irritably. “I only said I wished I could arm you. But you’re a civilian, so that’s a no-go. I’ll have a detail there to help out.”

“I wouldna ken what to do with a gun even if ye did.” Jamie swallows hard, fear in his throat. “Ye dinna think it will come to that?”

“I’m hoping it won’t be. Keep your eyes open and stay alert, Fraser. If you see anything untoward, anything suspicious, call Murtagh.” It would be a very public takedown, and Jamie is equally excited and apprehensive. The videos SCD had discovered apparently show Bonnet’s face clearly, exculpating Jamie from Alexander McGregor’s death.

With a final warning to be careful, Grey ends the call. Almost immediately after, Jamie’s phone beeps with a new text. It’s Claire, in a beautiful yellow gown, blowing a kiss to the camera. Jamie’s confidence is renewed and his spirits lift, to see his Sassenach so beautiful, so brave, so irrevocably his.

X-x-X

The venue is sumptuously decorated, as befits Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art. Claire grips her coat as she hands her invitation to the guard at the door and is admitted. Geillis walks beside her, already looking for the servers with drink trays.

“Here ye go, get ye properly soused.” G hands her a flute of champagne. Claire sips slowly, looking around for a tall head of red hair. It’s not noticeable, and she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing that her Viking Scot is well-concealed; she desperately wishes Jamie could be at her side. Claire watches as her co-workers mingle and laugh, eating and drinking. She chats with a few of her colleagues, and while talking to Joe Abernathy, she spots a bright mop of curls skulking behind a set of cubicles acting as the servers’ station. Excusing herself to the loos, she sidles close to the station and faces the room, grabbing another glass flute as she senses Jamie at her back.

“Mo nighean donn, ye look beautiful,” he breathes on her neck, leaning in as close as he dares. He has spent his time hiding out behind the flimsy cubicle walls. Blending in with the servers, he’d made his way through the back-entrance gangway, pretending to be working with them tonight. No one had batted an eye or asked him anything. Donning a white jacket a bit too tight across the shoulders and at least three inches too small at the wrists, he pretended to sort through the champagne glasses and handed full trays out for servers to parade around the museum.

A sudden commotion near the entrance has her craning her neck to see Colum MacKenzie arrive maneuvering in an electric wheelchair, followed closely by Dougal. Claire sees Tom Christie, the hospital director, rush over to greet and flatter them. She can feel Jamie tense behind her.

“Claire, the MacKenzie…”

“I see them, Jamie. Don’t worry.” His hand slips into hers for a moment, warm and strong. She doesn’t dare turn to look at him. His mere presence at her back bolsters her courage, as she downs the rest of the champagne and prepares to walk back into the fray, with Jamie’s parting words in her ears and heart:

Ye need not be scairt, so long as I’m wi’ ye.

They resonate in her mind, steadying her. Claire finds Geillis and they nurse another glass of champagne. Geillis senses her nerves and Claire steers her far away from the gaggle of chiefs and important hospital administrators fawning over the fundraiser sponsors.

“Hey, there you are, ladies!” Joe saunters up to them, clinking glasses together. “What do you think of all this? Pretty swanky, huh?”

“Only the best for Queen Elizabeth’s,” Claire smiles, smoothing a hand down her dress. Her heels are starting to pinch her feet, and she fidgets, wishing she could be in her pajamas cuddled up to her big red Scot. She folds her coat and lays it on the table along with her gold clutch; no chairs have been provided, apparently to force people to stand around and mingle.

“Gowan wanted to see you, Geillis. He wants the donors from Nexus—you know, the hospital beds—to meet you. Can I steal her away from you a bit, Beauchamp?” Joe smiles easily and guides G with a hand at the small of her back. She looks back helplessly at Claire as she’s swallowed up by the crowd.

Claire is trying to find a glimpse of Jamie again at the servers’ station when she feels a strong, callused hand grasp her arm at the elbow. She tenses, fear skittering up her spine—this hand is unfamiliar, rough, and definitely not Jamie’s. She whirls to find Dougal’s grizzled face leering at her, teeth bared into a grin that resembles a snarl.

“Miss Beauchamp—we meet at last.”

Claire tries to wrench free, but that only makes Dougal tighten his grip. She wants to scream, but her throat is dry and she finds they are surrounded by two burly men who block the rest of the attendees from seeing what is going on.

“Let me go.” Her voice aims for strength but there is a tremor of fear.

“I dinna think so, sassenach.” The word takes on its intended meaning, an insult, a slur of sorts. Dougal begins walking her away from the table. “Jamie will heed us, one way or another.”

“Jamie is a good man,” Claire hisses, “not that you know anything about that.” She tries to cast about for Jamie, but they’re heading in the opposite direction from the servers’ station; Dougal yanks her arm again to make her keep up, causing her to stumble. Too late, she realizes she left her clutch—and her mobile—on the table.

“He overplayed his hand. Do ye think we dinna ken about his relationship wi’ ye, what he’s been tryin’ to do these past few months? He broke faith wi’ us, and his wife. Our contract, we willna honor it either.”

“Honor? What do you know about the word?” Claire spits out with as much venom as she can muster

“Honor or no, I ken I always win, lass.” With that, Dougal releases her, but Claire feels another hand descend, this time on her shoulder, gripping, and a small but insistent push at her back. She’s never felt anything like it, but immediately realizes what it is: a gun. Quietly, she is steered away from the crowd, into the exhibits. After hours, there is only emergency lighting barely bright enough to see.

The last thing she hears from Dougal before being swallowed up by the dark is, “I’ll wait in the car.”

X-x-X

Jamie can’t find Claire. He’d spotted her bright gold purse laying on the table where he last saw Claire, and he rips it open; her mobile is in it, and his wame sinks. He has no way of contacting her now, and he fears the worst.

He spots Geillis flirting with an older man, tipping her head back and shaking out her long red hair.

He hurries to her and with a curt, “Excuse us,” takes Geillis’s arm and leads her off to a corner away from the noise.

“What is it, Jamie?”

“Have ye seen Claire? I left for a minute to go to the loo and now she’s gone.”

“I saw her the last time ye did. Do ye think she might have left?”

Jamie’s heart pounds double-time. “Not on her own. I specifically told her not to, not tonight.” He holds up the purse. “She wouldna have left this behind.”

Geillis pales. “I can head home, see if she’s there anyway, or wait for her.”

“Yes, please, do that.” Jamie pulls out his phone, and dials Murtagh. “Uncle?”

“Lad, ye ken ‘tis not safe for ye to—”

“Claire’s gone. They’ve taken Claire.” He knows this with a certainty that shocks him. A series of expletives on the other end before he continues. “Call Grey, tell him to move in now. We canna afford to wait.” Jamie ends the call; he’s on the move now, headed towards the main entrance so he can call a car.

Briefly, he glimpses a broad muscular man in the distance. There is a large black sedan blocking one of the nearby side streets. There is a sense of déjà-vu when he hears a muffled yell, and then he’s racing towards the sound, racing towards his life.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #ltm17 #stuff's going down #i'm back at work tomorrow and in total denial #may the odds be ever in my favor :/

65 notes · View notes

rockhopsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Kendrick Lamar’s DAMN-- A New Hip Hop Legend

Whether tall tale, truth, or somewhere in between, 13 time Grammy Award winning rapper/songwriter Kendrick Lamar Duckworth’s rise to immortality is nothing short of a cosmic wonder. To go back to the beginning, let’s first take a look at his most recent solo project, 2017’s Album of the Year nominee and Best Rap Album winner “Damn”. The very last track of the album, “Duckworth”, tells of a saga that took place during the rapper’s infancy. The mythic-like storytelling follows the journey of his father, mother, and what would one day become the owner of the record label that propelled Kendrick into stardom. Kendrick’s father, “Ducky” supposedly worked at a chicken fast food restaurant, which “Top Dawg” Anthony Tiffith, proprietor of Top Dawg Entertainment, frequented. Tiffith was a notorious gangster on the block who aspired to be the first one from his neighborhood to reach the life of luxury. Tiffith went on to plan and subsequently rob the chicken place Ducky worked at, but spared his life because he had always given him an extra biscuit with his meals. Because of this decision, Kendrick grew up with his father around, helping to keep him out of the L.A. gang wars and keeping Tiffith out of prison so he could go on to found a record label. Things obviously could have gone very differently, but they didn’t. As Kendrick himself puts it: “Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence? Because if Anthony killed Ducky, Top Dawg could be serving life, While I grew up without a father and die in a gunfight”.

Growing up in Compton, CA and making it out to be a success is no small feat. Throughout the years, one of Kendrick’s closest collaborators has been a rapper/blood gang member, Jay Rock, who too came from the neighborhood that Kendrick grew up in. Also a close friend of theirs- Schoolboy Q, a crip. Kendrick Lamar has been on the forefront of using his voice to unify people involved in gang violence and deterring those who may later fall into it. In 2015, Kendrick designed and released his signature shoe with Nike, aimed at the unification of people divided by the lifestyle that many of his friends and family became victims of during the tribulations of his youth. In 2007, a friend of Lamar’s called “DT” was gunned down by police for reportedly posing a threat, an event which seemed to Kendrick was all too common in his life. The silver lining, however, seems to be that there’s no shortage of the tales in Kendrick Lamar’s rap repertoire to depict the dangers and deeper meanings about the reality of gang activity, giving those steeped in that side of life hope for betterment and success.

In the early stages of Kendrick’s career, he was selected to be in one of the first XXL freshmen, an annual group of rappers recognized by the hip hop publication as up and coming artists. XXL’s freshman freestyles were new at the time, and Kendrick Lamar’s verse in the cypher was prominently featured online and the cypher itself is often looked back on as a classic among those available on YouTube. Those who initially viewed the freestyle session may have come looking for other, better known rappers, only to find themselves stumbling upon the discovery of a young Kendrick Lamar. Around this same time, he released his first official single, “HiiiPoWeR”, which was produced by the now prolific J. Cole. These two, in their own rights, have become widely regarded as today’s best hip hop lyricists for their hard hitting and meaningful bars. Rubbing elbows too with Kendrick was the now superstar pop sensation and rapper, Drake. Drake, a Toronto rapper, has helped launch several careers through featuring on their music because of his viral popularity. When Drake and Kendrick collaborated on Kendrick Lamar’s “Good Kid M.A.A.D. City”, Drake’s career was still in its early stages, but their song together certainly helped garner a mainstream appeal for the release at the time. All in all, it is clear to anyone doing some digging that not only did Kendrick work hard at refining his craft to become prolific, but that he was also met with great fortune in making the correct moves early on in his career to find the notoriety that he now enjoys.

Fueled by artists such as Tupac Shakur, Ice Cube, Kurupt and Eminem, Lamar has carried the torch forward from the 90s into the modern age of rap. During the famed “California Love” music video shoot featuring Dr. Dre and Tupac, Kendrick has claimed a small piece of hip hop legend by saying he was present in Compton, on the scene for the shoot. As a child, seeing such an idol and icon propelled his drive to follow in the footsteps of the greats of yesterday. In 2015, Kendrick sat down for an interview with the group N.W.A. who’ve had such classics as “Straight Outta Compton” and “Express Yourself”. In the conversation, Lamar said: “anything that I do, it always comes from what y’all done, I wanna get y’all take on my generation today and what we have as far as music”. In response, DJ Ren retorted “I like a few, I like you”. The metaphorical hand-off is evident, from O.G. approval to the strong impact in waves that Lamar has been able to produce from just four major label solo albums. From Anderson .Paak to Roddy Ricch, Kendrick has set out and proved more than he’d ever dreamed of.

Currently, Lamar has two triple platinum records as well as one platinum record which was maybe the most adventurous and critically acclaimed album, not only of his career, but of that decade. Rolling Stone magazine journalist Greg Tate called “To Pimp a Butterfly” a “masterpiece of fiery outrage, deep jazz and ruthless self-critique”.With songs like “The Blacker the Berry” and “Hood Politics”, the fabric of TPAB was woven to reflect the attitudes of a movement of racial justice and equality in a time of great struggle and oppression. Aside from exposing the brutalities of life as a black man in the United States, Lamar also presented the album as a platform to uplift and celebrate the accomplishments and great artistic devotions of black people from around the world. Many consider this album to be Kendrick Lamar’s magnum opus. He has shown that his work has staying power, and that his albums stand out among the formulaic pop-trap that reigns supreme on the radio. Perhaps TPAB has gone the farthest out of any other thing to help cement him as the king of hip hop and the greatest rapper of the generation.

With a back catalogue so insanely successful you’d expect Mr. Kendrick Lamar to be universally beloved, right? Well, not so fast. No inspection of Lamar’s career would be complete without the mention of his ground-breaking verse on the song “Control” by Big Sean. Kendrick decided to seize the moment coming off of his first platinum album by going after 11 of the biggest names in rap at the time, including: J. Cole, Meek Mill, Drake, Big KRIT, Wale, Pusha T, ASAP Rocky, Tyler The Creator, and Mac Miller. Many interpreted his lyrics in which he called out these artists to be a diss, but we now know that it was, in fact, Lamar’s intent to light a flame under these artists to create higher art. The people named on the verse were people Kendrick truly believed had the potential to create truly classic works, and his bar “I got love for you all but I'm tryin' to murder you” was aimed at them because of the intention to hype them up to work harder and realize that they weren’t inherently owed the popularity bestowed to them. The so-called “Control verse” made such a splash that even rappers who weren’t even named in the song made counter-disses to the single verse in the form of an entire song. Most notable out of these songs were Joe Budden’s “Lost Control”, Joey B4Da$$’s “Killuminati Pt. 2”, and Lupe Fiasco’s “SLR 2”. Despite the negativity spawned from this verse aimed to do good in the hip hop community, Kendrick Lamar’s twitter saw a 510% increase in followers just days after the dropping of the single. If there even was any “beef” to be had regarding this song, it is clear who the real winner was.

From the president of the United States claiming his favorite song was a Kendrick Lamar song at one point, to winning a Pulitzer Prize for 2017’s “DAMN”, the mile-high accolades of Kendrick seem almost too good to be true. However, of all accomplishments, perhaps his greatest is his influence on music. Not only has he single handedly put on several label-mates to the mainstream, but he has risen the bar of what it means to write a good rap song in this day and age. Not content with people who churn out 30 song albums as a money grab, Kendrick has shown that effort is important, that careful construction of art is important. Lamar has also been credited as reviving the importance of the hip-hop music video. It is clear during a listening session on Spotify or YouTube that so many troves of artists, young and old, are attempting to emanate the same X factor that Kendrick Lamar Duckworth has been so highly praised for, and rightfully so.

#kendrick #kendrick lamar #DAMN #maad city #tpab #rap #rapculture #hip hop #hiphop #music

9 notes · View notes

mar-lmk-mystiquemara · 4 years ago

Text

Daymare Part 1

Dream: "Brother! Please! We can start again and have peaceful lives! Please!"

Nightmare: "No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again Are you joking? Must be joking You ain't laughin', I ain't smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again Yeah, ain't no need to cry no more When you break my heart into twenty four I'll pick up the pieces you left If you think I'm coming back Don't hold your breath I ain't your brother, no 'Cause I'm breakin' up over ya Go now, here's my middle finger 'Cause I'm hurting, brother, hurting, brother Look what you did Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again Are you joking? Must be joking You ain't laughin', I ain't smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again Yeah, I'm with my boys, hit the town Let's go see what kind of Sans knocks me out Now I know that he wants me back" Nightmare continued: "Nothing sounds more better than "Hit the road, Dream" (Dream) Don't call me brother, Dream, I've broken up over ya Love me now, my name is bigger Dream, I'm giving you the finger 'Cause I'm hurting, brother, hurting, brother Look what you did Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again (start again) Are you joking? Must be joking You ain't laughin', I ain't smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again Are you joking? Must be joking I ain't smo-smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no (sing it with me now!) All of the Bad Guys join in No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no (you must be crazy, yeah, yeah) No no no no No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no (oh, oh) No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no You don't understand There's no second chance for us, Dream It's not a game, so why are you tryin' to play me? Now I gotta go, I'm not gonna stay and watch you cry 'Cause I'm hurting, brother, hurting, brother Look what you did Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again (start again) Are you joking? Must be joking You ain't laughin', I ain't smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Are you crazy? Must be stupid if you think that we can start again Are you joking? Must be joking I ain't smo-smokin' Must be crazy if you think that we can start again No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no (Hit the road, Dream) No, no no no no No no no no no no No, no no no no No no no no (Hit the road, Dream, Dream)" Dream breaks down and cries in front of him "WHY?! WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?!"

Nightmare sighed before starting another song: "I can almost feel the tick like clockwork Hearing all the voices in my head each time I go There's a game they play that I'm not part of Tearing at the weaknesses and all the faults they know It's impossible to navigate around It's inevitable that you'll fall in It's improbable i'll ever come back down I fell in and now I think I might drown I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Over me, over me and I can't break free Secrets run deep when you're in a pit of vipers Slithering, whispering, feel the venom poisoning me Now I must admit that I have played a part In the way that things have gotten out of hand But it's escalated almost to an art I want to fix it but I don't think I can I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Over me, over me and I can't break free Secrets run deep when you're in a pit of vipers Slithering, whispering, feel the venom poisoning me Slither, slither, slither Put your fangs into my back Slither, slither, slither Think I don't know where you're at I use you, I'm no good, need to be in control I said I use you, I'm no good, need to be in control I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Over me, over me and I can't break free Secrets run deep when you're in a pit of vipers Slithering, whispering, feel the venom poisoning me I'm falling deep into a pit of vipers Over me, over me and I can't break free Secrets run deep when you're in a pit of vipers Slithering, whispering, feel the venom poisoning me Slither, slither, slither Put your fangs into my back Slither, slither, slither Think I don't know where you're at I use you, I'm no good, need to be in control I said I use you, I'm no good, need to be in control This is how you make me feel" Nightmare turned Passive. "You know, Dream... I used to think you were a Hero. But when I needed you, you turned away from me and chose the Village who hated me for simply EXISTING! ... Some hero..." Nightmare stared at Dream as another song started. "I would react badly To the slightest hint of hesitance He'd bend awkwardly to suit my mood No word from his defense I'd cry knowing how my tears Felt like acid burning through his skin Pushed every little button But the right one that would let me in Now he's afraid of me Now he's afraid of me It took me by surprise The hatred in his eyes I've pushed this man as far as he could go But he lacked the words to let me know He acted out, now I can see it is my fault I made changes That went unnoticed Sang songs for deaf ears He mistook my silence for punishment As it had been all these years I'd cry knowingly how my tears felt like acid burning through his skin Now he's afraid of me Now he's afraid of me It took me by surprise The hatred in his eyes I've pushed this man as far as he could go But he lacked the words to let me know He acted out, now I can see it is my fault." Nightmare stared at the person who used to be his twin, wondering why the Village had to force them in such different directions, force them both so far apart. He got extremely mad.

Dream: “Brother What is this madness that spills from your lips?! I never abandoned you! I never pushed you away! You refused to join me and the villagers! We could’ve been happy but you decided to sideline yourself from everyone else instead of joy, pure happiness and finding the goodness within, darkness you choose for whatever reason! You’re deluding yourself! I am not your excuse to be Evil! Excuses you continuously make to others, but the truth is your will for others was just weaker far less than mine. You can do better. You can rise again. Let go of this folly stop this madness you insist on. You are better than all of this, then them. Your past can be forgiven. Just let it go. Let it all go. We can fix what has been damaged and with the help of the others we can do great things together. So stop all this foolishness, give up these dark comrades, these villains whom you call allies and rise with me. Stop with your wicked ways brother let(s/us) do good together.” Nightmare chuckled sadly at Dream. "You know... I wonder if you ever saw the scars and bruises that I wrapped and hid. The many broken bones that I begged Mother to heal. Did you ever wonder why no one ever attempted to be my friend even with you beside me?" Nightmare stared at his crew quietly. "Each person who fights for me is someone I saved from BECOMING me." Dream: "I simply thought that it was what you wished. To be by yourself. You never wanted to join any of us when we invited you. Whenever I thought over it. But I never noticed if you were hurt! If ever you were, you should have told me! And I did attempt to have you make friends! But you always, always refused! You could have come to me! Talked to me! But you never did and I don't understand why! For any of it! For this! Them! How are they saved?! How is this good?! Our lives were fine till you did this to yourself!Our lives were fine till you did this to yourself!” Night screams. "DREAM OPEN YOUR GODDAMNED EYES! WHY WOULD I WANT TO BE AROUND THE VERY PEOPLE HURTING ME?!?" Nightmare was beyond frustrated by Dream's complete disregard for the facts. "EVERY GODDAMNED TIME I TOLD YOU, YOU BRUSHED IT OFF AS A MISTAKE THAT 'WOULDN’T HAPPEN AGAIN' FUCK YOU DREAM! I'M TIRED OF BEING PUSHED ASIDE BECAUSE YOU JUST WANT TO BE POPULAR! Humans... They don't understand balance... And neither do you." Dream: "They didn't mean to! It was just a misunderstanding between you and you never gave them a chance! How were things ever going to get better if you never let the opportunity arise for it to happen! And I'm not brushing anything aside! I didn't push you aside! You did that all on your own! It's not any sort of popularity, people just liked me is all but I wasn't going out of my way for anything like that. Unlike you! You were pushing everyone away! How wouldn't there be any misunderstandings. How wouldn't people like me better! And how could you know anything about balance?! When all you do is bring chaos and destruction wherever you go! Leaving devastation, ruin and despair in your wake! What do you know about balance! Misery and hopelessness that is what you know! Being dark and evil is what you know! How to be corrupted is what you know. Saving others, peh, all you do is collect followers for your dark army! What balance is there?! Tell me brother! Tell me!" Nightmare stares at him. "Fine. You keep blocking me out. Dream I'm only going to say this and then you'll never see me again: is there a world that ever has no light or no night? If so does anything survive? Night bring rest for the weary who have so much in a day. Light brings joy to those who have something to look forward to. That is balance. Have fun being a Light with no Shadow." Nightmare opened a portal to get ready to leave. Dream: " Brother wait! Don't do this! We need to stick together! Just give up what you're doing and come back! Please brother, it's not too late to do the right thing. We have to move forward. To the light and all that is good. You can't give in to the darkness. I know there is still good in you. Let go of your grudges and make peace with yourself. Brother please. Please just come with me. It is never too late. I beg you. I'm sure we can work things out. Stop this nonsense of yours. Whatever wrongs that have happened are in the past and we must go to the future. Let's go there together you and I, brother. As we were meant to. Won't you brother, please?" Dream stretches out his hand in a take my hand gesture towards Nightmare and gives a wobbly smile at him. Trying to plead with his eyes and very soul that his brother would give up this folly and turn to the light. Away from all this darkness that surrounds him. Night hands him an apple shaped memory. "It seems you forgot your last promise to me." Night walks to the portal, unknowing that his memories of helping the Bad Guys were also in the apple. "Good bye... Shattered Dreams." Saddened by this outcome Dream makes a portal of his own. Keeping the memory close he walks through wondering what could be held within that dark apple in his grip and If ever there would be a chance for his brother to come back to him. That maybe there was still hope. That tomorrow would be a better day. And all days after. But knowing that perhaps that might never be so. Stepping through the portal Dream heaves a sigh, holds the memory more firmly and disappears leaving behind an empty quietness in an already empty void among countless vast empty spaces in between infinite spaces of dimensions including those of time.

#daymare #nightmare sans #dream sans #bad sanses #star sanses #rated m

11 notes · View notes

lady-olive-oil · 5 years ago

Text

So Into You: Chapter 1

A/N: Hey hey hey! Let’s do this y’all! Welcome to the first chapter of So Into You. I’ll be on vacation soon so, this chapter is being uploaded, along with chapter 6 of Work Out. Which I’ll post tomorrow. If you’d to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!!

Warnings: None, except for sexual imagery

Word Count: 2k+ [this is a good one]

Choxie Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @crushed-pink-petals || @themyscxiras || @honeychicana || @dc41896 || @stillevansbae || @areubeingserved || @swirlevans || @4ftwonder || @bugngiz || @mangos4u

_______________

“Chris! Slow your dumb-ass down!”

“Rude! Make me!”

“You gon’ learn today!”

What does it look like for two grown ass adults, running to get to the Cars Land ride in peace? Like a bunch of giddy kids. But who could blame us? We barely get time to hangout with each other anyway, so why not relax at Disneyland and possibly Universal?

A few people stopped us to take pictures, and even though Chris is a bigger star, I got a few fans to ask me for pictures. It made me feel great inside and out, to know that my work has made waves with the world. I must be doing something right. Plus, having a nearly 40 heat old best friend who's willing to act like a child with you is always fun.

“What am I gonna learn Ro? How to do a victory dance, after beating you at Toy Story Mania? Cause I won, twice.” He booped my nose, causing me scrunch it a bit.

I arched a brow and grabbed his hand playfully. “One: you cheated. Two; don't touch my nose. You don’t get to touch me besides a hug. Don’t need helicopter parent Delilah, tryin to check me again. Remember last time?”

“Yeah I apologize for that. It wasn’t right for her to show up at your birthday dinner, unannounced and caused a scene. I still owe you for that one.”

“Yeah you do. Disney Land will suffice for now. You also owe me dinner from way back when.” Nudging him a bit, before we got in line for the ride, we took a few more pictures with a few folks and chatted.

The birthday dinner fiasco was a disaster. Delilah showed up at Nobu, uninvited, to my birthday dinner hosted by the cast and crew of Avengers: Infinity War. Causing a scene as to why he didn’t tell her where he went, and why didn’t he invite her. He had her apologize to me for being rude and disruptive. I only accepted it because she’s Chris’ girl, but deep down, I felt disregarded.

She didn’t care who saw, she just wanted to let folks know that she was there. I never hated my birthday anymore than I did that day. The next day however, Chris Door Dashed me some food over. It did make it a bit better, but I’m still not he fence about her. She had no regard for privacy or human decency.

Chris rugged on my hand, causing me to get out of my trance. “Come on Ro, It’s our turn. What’s on ya mind? You got that look on your face.”

Helping me into the car, I let out an exaggerated sigh.

“My bad. Just uh, Going down memory lane about the party last year. History isn’t going to repeat itself is it?”

“Roxanne. I promise it won’t, she won’t come near you as long as I’m around.”

With a reassuring nod, I focused back on track as the car zoomed along, with the sounds of Rascal Flats to bring up the momentum.

“Life is a highway! I wanna ride it all night long. If you're going my way, I wanna drive it all night long.” The inner kids in Chris and I couldn’t resist the sing-a-long.

Glancing over at him got me thinking. Seeing how happy he was and just enjoying himself, it made me realize I was doing something right by being his friend. I wasn’t going anywhere, yet I kept thinking he’d choose her every time.

After getting off the ride we decided to head to downtown Disney. I was craving pizza so why not.

Given the circumstances of our friendship, he doesn’t know I’ve liked him for years. All this pent up lust for a 30 something year old black woman, ain’t right by any means. To be completely honest, I’ve been in love with my best friend since we were kids.

Cliche I know, but something about him made me realize that just having him be my best friend isn’t enough for me. My girlfriends know about how I feel; even their boyfriends know.

How do you tell your best friend, of over thirty years, that you have dreams about then every night? How you picture them in your head, when you’re having sex with other men? You can’t just say that out loud. That’s why I’ve been blocking it out by dating other folks.

I dream of kissing down his chest, leaving hickies along in my wake. Grabbing onto his sculpted hips for leverage, licking his neck teasingly. He's a sight to behold, a true masterpiece of fine art. See what I mean by the dreams being too elaborate? Boy is it harder than I thought.

Chris’ POV:

Taking in the surroundings as much as I could, I backtracked to the day of the party. It was a mess, Delilah was causing an unnecessary scene and essentially made Roxie cry because she had wine poured on her head.

She didn’t talk about that part much. Having red Merlot in your hair was never a good thing, unless it’s New Years. At that point Delilah and I took a break because my friendship with Roxie meant more to me than anything.

Granted, all my past relationships I’ve had all loved Roxie. Thrilled to have her around, but yet Delilah is pushing her away from me. Being demanding and telling me that I can’t spend time with Roxie anymore, even though we work together and that’s just enough.

It didn’t make sense to me at all. Hence the current “break” we’re on now. She doesn’t understand boundaries at all.

Not gonna lie, I have been feeling something lately but I can’t describe it quite right. I don’t know whether it’s infatuation or love for my best friend. If it’s the latter, then I think it’s time I accept it. It’s been a long time coming anyway.

Smiling at a few fans along the way, taking pictures again, made everything relax a bit. I even checked my phone to see if anything happened, while I enjoyed being a kid again with Roxie. Just notifications and love from our fans about our day, then something caught my attention.

Delilah, had sounded off my find my iPhone alert and I didn’t notice till now. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

I had to get it together. Couldn’t have another birthday fiasco. I took the liberty of ordering a large pepperoni pizza, with bacon and jalapenos for us. I noticed the happy smile on Roxie’s face. One of many great things I loved about her.

‘Oh shit, I really got it bad.’ I thought to myself, once I shook my head and focused.

“What are you so smiley about over there, pretty lady?”

She took a bite of her slice, doing a little dance in the process. “Food. Ya feeding me today, that’s why.”

“I always found a way to your heart huh? Through food mostly.”

“True. But for the most part, keeping you happy is the fun part of our friendship. I need to make sure you’re ok at all times Evans. Vice versa, cause no guys have been right for me anyway.” This time she bopped me on my nose.

The actin along made me scrunch up my face in playful annoyance, earning a chuckle from hr. It eased my stress levels a bit until, I heard that one fatal voice, that shattered the glass of the house of my concentration.

“Hi baby. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Delilah places a kiss upon my cheek, and waves a bit towards Roxie. That’s weird, she never waved at her. She did know I was here, I didn’t find out she used the alert till after I turned my location back on.

“Uh Yeah. I didn’t think I you’d want to seeing as though were on break currently.” With a slight shrug, I noticed the twinge in her forehead. Roxie kept eating her pizza enjoying the show.

The pet names started, along with her petting my head as she sat on my lap without my consent. “I’m still your girlfriend actually, even if we are on break. I care about you boo.”

The subtle eye rolls, a fake gagging, from Roxie was priceless. I slid her off my lap and she sat next to me. The two women had a stare off till one of them cracked.

“Have something to say Roxie?”

“It’s Alexander or Roxanne to you. And no I don’t, because if I did that would require me to nice. Which we both know there’s no way in hell you're capable of doing so.” Stuffing the pizza crust into her mouth, she got up and headed to the front register. I’m assuming for dessert.

The gasp that emitted from Delilah’s lips was comical. “She shouldn't get to talk to me like that. I’m your girlfriend Christopher not her.”

I had to set her straight, so looked her dead in her eyes. “Here we go again. Delilah, we’ve been on and off for how long? Few months. Dating for close to a year now, I suppose? You have to respect that she’s going to be around forever.”

“I don’t like it, at all. But for you I’ll do anything for you because I love you.”

That phrase was foreign to me hearing from others, besides my friends; family and Roxie. Part of me wanted to hear her say it for real. The dreams I have of her late at night don't help either.

I dream about kissing her neck as gently as possible, holding her close to me. Like she’s a fragile art piece that’s only meant to be observed. I really need to get it together, this has gone maddening.

“Love ya too, Delilah. Now we can talk tomorrow if ya want, I still want to hang with my best friend.” Accepting the Captain America theme cupcake from Roxie, she chilled right back next me with her Black Panther cupcake.

To smite Roxie, she kissed me hard and then walked away with a sway in her hips. “See ya baby boy.”

“Will she ever learn that she gotta have an ass to sway her hips?” Roxie chuckled a little, causing me to join in.

Using the Steve Rogers pleading look, I had to do it. “I shouldn’t be laughing but I am. Don’t be mean please, I want this to work out. Please?”

“Fine. I’ll try, for you. ‘Boo.’” Now she felt like mocking, flipping her hair off her shoulder and batting her eyelashes. She’ll be the death of me.

“You are so wrong. Let’s go catch the fireworks before it gets too dark. Got an early day tomorrow.”

“That we do. You owe me a piggyback ride too.” Making sure we had everything she, threw the empty pizza pan anyway and hopped on my back as we journeyed back to Snow Whites castle.

“We also could have gone to the parking garage too.”

“What’s the fun I that? The castle is where we’ll get the best pictures in.”

Setting her down on the ground to lean against the railing to get a good view, we may have bought a few light up toys.

“Ok facts.” The fireworks illuminated her face like a stain glass window in a cathedral. One of the most breathtaking sights I’ve ever seen.

As the show went on, something pulled us closer. Not sure what was going on but, our pinky fingers locked. The drive to her house was long but fulfilling. The day couldn't have gotten any better.

“Rox, you’re home now sweetheart. Imma head out too.” I sat her in her bed and pulled the covers up over her, till she grabbed my arm.

She mumbled gently, loud enough so I could hear. Even with the fan on. “Stay, please? You got clothes here anyway.”

Smiling gently with a nod, I slipped in next to her and cuddle her like I always did. I wish my desires weren’t screaming at me in my head to go for it. Yet her sad excuse of boyfriend isn’t competition to me.

He’s the least of my worries.

#chris evans x roxanne alexander #Chris Evans #roxie alexander #Ashley Blaine Featherson #So Into You #so into you chapter 1 #chris evans x poc oc

148 notes · View notes

ramblesanddragons · 5 years ago

Text

I Want To Learn To Fight

Needed a small break from A Man Made of Stone and here’s a little late entry or week four of @stanuary while I play with writing style. The theme was fight.

Warnings: Some violence but nothing graphic.

AO3 link!!

“Grunkle Stan, will you teach me how to box?” Dipper says after a few days back in the shack.

“I mean I can sure but why do you want to?” Stan peers over his paper at the kid, he’s grown since last summer but he’s still not built like a fighter. Of course, Ford wasn’t either.

“It looked like good exercise?”

“Nah, if I’m doing it, I need to know why,” Stan folds the paper and looks the kid in the eye, “I’m not gonna judge you. What’s up?”

“You’re not going to judge me huh?”

“With this? Nah.”

“Okay fine,” Dipper gets closer to whisper to his grunkle, “It’s my noodle arms. I’m just tired of being so I don’t know...noodley.”

Okay Stan can buy that. He stands and heads upstairs. “Is that a yes?”

“Come on kid we’re headed to the mall.”

Stan knows that his gloves are still way too big for the kid so he buys him some gloves (and pockets a bit of new tape for their hands.) When they get back home, they find some sort of decent space to learn. Between the elder twins, the younger twins, Soos, Melody, and Soos’ Abuelita the shack was pretty full. Soos’ renovations have done a great job of giving everyone a space (and got rid of a lot of the triangles) but they end up having to set up shop in a part of the lab. If Ford minds, he doesn’t say and goes upstairs to find Mabel with a pat on Dipper’s head.

Dipper pulls on the gloves and swings wildly. “Alright I’m ready!”

“No, you’re not. Come here and I’ll teach you to wrap your hands.” Stan starts by doing his own and then has Dipper try and copy. The kid is sharp and has it right by his second hand.

“When you get into a random fight you don’t have time to wrap your hands. What’s the point of it now?” Dipper asks trying to get used to the feel of the wraps.

“To make sure your hands are in one piece when you don’t have the time. You mess up your hands and wrists here you’re screwed out there. Why are you worried about random fights anyway?”

“Just an observation. Anyway, I’m ready to hit things!” He says with a fire behind his eyes.

Stan laughs, “Not the way you’re standing.”

A gentle shove immediately puts Dipper off balance so they start with lessons on a grounded fighting stance and footwork. As to not disappoint the boy too much Stan does let him take swings at his gloved hands before they call it a night. Dipper’s out of breath by the end.

“Look kid, I know this isn’t what you were expecting but I’m tryin’ to teach ya right. If you want to stop, I’ll understand. If you want to keep going though, I think you could throw a decent punch.” Stan expects Dipper to be frustrated, which he is, but is surprised by the boy’s smile.

“I should have figured I need to know the basics first. It’s okay I want to keep going. This was fun and I want to learn.”

Stan smiles back.

Over the next few weeks, the lessons continue. Foot drills, hand drills, basic punches. The kid has always been bright and he may not get the practice of it right at first, he gets the theory down. Stan changes up his teaching a bit, does some reading and tries things out with the kid. What worked for him doesn’t always work for Dipper and he tries to figure out a way that does. Dipper really starts to shine when Stan starts talking about reading a situation and analyzing an opponent.

One day after a good session the boys head back upstairs to find kitchen the same way it has been during these sessions, covered in papers of art. Ford and Mabel spend most boxing times drawing together. Dipper talks about the lesson while she shows off her art (Dipper and Stan fighting a giant robot) and they head to bed.

“Sounds like it’s going well.” Ford’s smile is soft. He’s adding details to his drawing (Him and Mabel as cats per her request) and stops to observe his twin.

“It is. He’s good. He’s ready to start sparing but I’ve got 200 pounds and a couple of feet on the kid. I know how to pull my punches but I don’t want to hurt him by accident. By the way I’ve been meaning to ask ya if you ever figured what got this boxing thing in his head?” Stan unwraps his hands and leans back in the chair.

“Well he does admire you and I believe he wishes to strengthen his body for his own reasons.” Ford starts to talk while beginning a new sketch as Stan starts snoozing, missing most of what his brother says. Ford manages to talk his brother into actually going to bed and, afterwards, walks down to the lab inspired.

“What the hell is this Sixer?” Stan gawks the next morning while Dipper laughs at it. In the lab is a 13-year-old sized robot made of gears and pillows.

“I made Dipper an adequate sparring partner. Programed with what I recall from our boxing lessons and it has an interface you can run much like one of Soos’ video games. After calling up Fiddleford for some input it should be ready.”

“AWESOME!” Dipper immediately goes to wrap his hands.

“Heh. Thanks Ford.”

“You’re welcome.” Ford begins to walk up the stairs and chuckles as he hears Dipper say, “Hey, not the first time I’m fought a robot!”

A few more weeks go by. Its Gravity Falls so the supernatural is everywhere and the Pines family is right there in it all. There hasn’t been that many repeats of last summer’s nightmares and Stan is thankful for that. With his brother around it’s easy to keep the kids out of trouble or at least help fight it off. Of course, one night everything goes to hell and it had to be Pioneer day.

Stan and Ford find themselves at one end of the town square when the screaming starts. People run off or jump into their covered wagons. A horde of shambling zombies our pouring out of the graveyard.

“Ahh Dipper I hope this one ain’t on you.” Stan mumbles as he pulls on the familiar brass knuckles. Ford pulls out his pistol.

“I don’t believe he would do this twice, he told me how badly things went last year. Something else is wrong.” Ford fires and takes the heads off of three zombies while Stan crushes a fourth.

(They’d later discover that a small rift had opened in the grave yard and was leaking out necrotic energy from a dying dimension. Rifts that came out of nowhere were as annoying and common place in Gravity Falls as deer causing problems in the roads after the events of the summer before. Easly fixed but annoying as hell.)

“It’s fine,” Stan says as he bashes two zombie heads together, “We’ll just sing them dead again although you’re singing this time. I hope you still have that zombie bite cure somewhere Sixer!”

“I do but the victims of the bites still need to be in one piece for it to work Stanley. We must find the kids before they’re torn apart!” Stan’s punching becomes a little more desperate and wilder as they make their way through the town. Ford has a theory and Stan thanks God his brother is right as they round a corner and see that all of the kids made their way to the local karaoke bar.

It’s a hell of a site. Melody and Soos are trying to break down the door, Pacifica is trying to break a window with her heels while Mabel uses a knitting needle, Wendy has he axe to keep one half of the zombies away, and (to Stan’s utter horror and pride) Dipper is holding the other half off on his own. His stance is flawless and he’s using his smaller, quicker size to his advantage. The elder Pines twins reach the kids just as Dipper knocks the jaw off of one of the monsters. These things are mindless though and it’s hard to read an opponent that doesn’t think. Dipper almost takes a bite to the ear as a zombie lunges low but Stan catches it and tosses the thing across the road. Dipper and Stan stand back to back as Ford ushers Pacifica out of the way and blasts the window open with his fancy space gun. He crawls in with Mabel and pulls Pacifica in too. Soos halfway tosses Melody in the window screaming, “Sing for our lives my songbird!”

“Okay?!” Melody yells back.

It takes agonizing seconds for Ford to get the power to the bar going as the rest fight off the zombies. Stan’s about to toss the rest of the kids into the window and block the way before one gets on his back.

“Get off my Grunkle!” Dipper screams and drags it off of Stan. He tosses the thing and manages to get it almost as far as Stan’s zombie.

Suddenly the music starts behind the fighters and it takes a few verses for Stan to recognize it. “Big boat keep on burnin’! Proud Cary keep on turnin! Swimming! Swimming! Swimming down the river!” Melody, Mabel, and Ford are having the most terrifyingly fun time of their lives as the zombies start to explode.

By sunset the town is doing clean up and the “Never Mind All That” law will be in full effect by tomorrow. The Pines have found themselves back home. Everyone else gets cleaned up while Ford orders a ton of pizza. Dipper makes as far as the porch before flopping onto the couch. Stan joins him.

“Look Grunkle Stan it wasn’t me this time,” Dipper starts.

“Yeah I know,” Stan pats Dipper’s head, “You were incredible out there today by the way. I know I’m still tough on ya...”

“You’ve taught me how to fight back,” Dipper says as he pulls himself to a sitting position.

“Last summer after the first zombie attack, I wanted to learn how to do what you did but I was so caught up in... well a lot of things and I kept meaning to ask you but things kept getting crazier.”

Dipper kind of smiles and looks at his slime covered hands, “I realized that maybe I could be smart and strong and if anything bad like last summer happened ever again I wanted to be able to fight it.”

“It’s best to out think than outfight most of the time kid if you can but I get that. But why me? Ford’s become some sort of nerd outlaw in the past 30 years. You could learn from him?” Stan knows the kids love him. (That was one of the first facts he knew after waking up from the memory wipe.) He doesn’t know if he deserves it but he’s happy that they do. Oh, he knows that Dipper relates more to his nerdy brother, which doesn’t hurt Stan’s feeling. It’s important for kids to have someone to relate too doesn’t matter who. He loves Dipper always.

Dipper lets out a small tired laugh, “I’ve always admired how hard you fight for us and I want to be like that. To be able to fight for my family.”

Stan beams.

“It’s totally not because I want to spend time with you too. No not at all,” Dipper finishes with a study but not hurtful jab to Stan’s stomach.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. I just figure I can teach ya something useful while I’m stuck with you little gremlins. Now come on get cleaned up. You gotta eat and then get some rest. You’ve proven you’re past all the baby stuff. Lessons are about to get a whole lot harder starting tomorrow. Ya up for it?”

“Bring it on.”

#Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls Fanfiction #Stanurary 2020 #my writing #I am still terrible at grammer #Man Made of Stone is still happening but I hit a block #It's getting worked though though #this was fun #Family bonding #fluff #violence against the undead

13 notes · View notes

meowzfordayz · 3 years ago

Text

Hihihi this be me whenever y’all pop up on my dash/in my notifs. 🥰 No pressure to tag anyone btw !! Just felt like loving y’all. 💗

@call-me-ko bc Triple Knotted and To Katsuki, With Love/Yours Only, Katsuki are s-tier or whatever the highest tier is on those tier ranking things for things and wow that made no sense at all !! 🐍 for you !! P.S. I adore you. 😌

@daddy-suguru bc your answers to my Asks are always so thorough and thoughtful and entire meals ?! Not to mention: just a little drunk off you !! 🥵

@demonbanger bc Kyojuro’s Gym Selfie lives in my head rent free. 🍑😮‍💨 And your humor infused writing?! 👌🏽 Get you a gal who does BOTH !!

@ichigostrawberry15 bc YOU SPOIL ME w/ your requests like inspo GALORE i.e. in every life (this heart of mine belongs to you), our song, and tryin’ to put it into words. And when you offered to help me study for my Spanish exam ?? You’re the bestest. 😭 P.S. Yeeeah m’still writing “stage heart/my heart” ty for your patience ahhh. 😅❤️‍🔥

@maaarshieee bc you’re such a fricking sweetheart and your writing is so SOFT and so DESCRIPTIVE and you always write *amazing* tags when reblogging. 🤗 Scars (Sanemi) was my intro to your writing while Picking Flowers and Date Night are a couple of my faves.

@mikeysfavdorayaki bc you’re so kind and encouraging and you curate A++ content like tyvm for sharing and exposing me to so much beautiful art and writing !! P.S. My heart goes 💘 whenever you drop by my Ask (i bite softly).

@ms0milk bc YOU WERE MY FIRST MUTUAL. Ahhh I was so ANXIOUS and figured you’d block my rambling ass lmao but I’m grateful you didn’t !!!!! Your writing is masterful? Poignant? Blissful? teaching 1A how to drive had me giggling out loud, stealing the hashira’s haori b/c it smells like them is a highkey fave of mine, and I’M ASDFGHJKL FOR PT 2 OF a scent like spiced flowers (intended purely as hype and affection!). 🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻 P.S. Your emoji game is 11/10, like, you *never* miss.

@plutowrites bc I binged ~almost all of your fanfics in 1 sitting and now I’m greedy for more. 🥲 How can I even recommend 1 or 2 of them wHEN YOUR WRITING HAD ME CLICKING ON EVERYTHING ?! “You’re not Shitty” had me like 💔 and then like ❤️‍🩹 btw so ty for breaking and mending my ❤️.

@ryuuzaa bc you’re lowkey a celeb or something ?? �� Yet you reply to all of my replies on your fanfics ?! 🥺 Like ugggh when they’re famous but take the time to pat your head ?? 😍 Lmao srsly tho I appreciate you and your writing (The Roommate Agreement pt 1 and pt 2 get me like 🤤) aaand hope I didn’t inflate your ego *too* much teehee. 😉

@shinox bc your art makes me audibly gasp and squeak and other noises of 😳 (*happy* noises I can assure you). I THIRST. Ty for keeping me hydrated. 💧😇

@somelattes bc I’ve yet to recover from you telling me I’m one of your favorite writers AND one of the writers you created your side blog for LIKE WHAT THAT’S THE ULTIMATE COMPLIMENT *sobs in sobbing*. P.S. I’m also still recovering from should’ve known better bc wtf is wrong w/ yoouuu ahaha *miserable mewls* HERE IS MY BROKEN HEART keep it, I insist. ☹️

@yomoya-girl bc you’re friendly and supportive and I get warm, fuzzy feelings after we interact bc your vibes are ☀️. Hope you’re doing okay? 💝

Did I end up using this as an excuse to procrastinate writing and doing my hw ?? Maybe. 🙃 Was it a ~valid excuse ?? YESYESYES.

do y'all also have mutuals whom you’re actually a fan of? like everytime u see them on your dash u just,,,,, “u go mutual that’s my mutual!!!!! i love u mutual!!!! i can’t even believe we’re mutuals i don’t deserve u!!!! keep being u mutual!!!”

#tag games

154K notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 6 years ago

Note

Indruck bartender ah prompt???????? Very good A++

Glad you liked it! I liked one of the other ones for them as a pair, so please enjoy this self-indulgent one-shot.

Prompt: you always bring your Tinder/Grindr dates to my bar and have sex in the bathroom and I really think you need to get better standards (spoiler: I’m not so upset when it’s us having sex in the bathroom)

Note: This is Not Suitable For your Workplace. Also, as a CW, Indrid has lots of casual sex that, we learn, started out as something he liked but that he may now be using as a less than ideal coping mechanism

It’s a busy Friday night at the bar; spring has come and folks are ready to be out and about. From his position as bartender (and owner), Duck sees many new faces mixed in with the old ones and smiles. The Beacon is his pride and joy, and he likes to see people enjoying themselves.

When he steps into the hallway leading to the bathrooms he hears a familiar voice under the music and crowd, one that tells him a certain regular is also enjoying himself.

“Oh yes, yes, more, please.” A lilting, begging voice comes from behind the wall. Yep, it’s Indrid alright.

Business as usual then.

The skinny, white-haired man started coming in two months ago. At first he just sat at the bar, ordered the sweetest thing on the menu, and chatted with Duck. After a few weeks, he started bringing in a new date every night, usually two or three times a week. These dates (a term Duck uses loosely) follow the same pattern: Indrid and the guy arrive, make small talk at the bar while they have a drink (also a term Duck uses loosely, since Indrid’s drinks have almost no booze), then disappear into the bathroom for a little while, returning a little disheveled. Sometimes the guy stays, keeps chatting with Indrid, sometimes they leave together. Most times the guy doesn’t stick around long.

Because of the proximity of the bathroom to the supply closets Duck needs to visit during work, he often ends up hearing just what goes on between Indrid and his date of the day. Some nights, from the noises he’s making, it’s clear Indrid is getting fucked, likely against the door. Other nights, he can’t hear him, only his date, meaning Indrid is on his knees with a dick in his mouth.

Duck tries not to worry or judge. Indrid’s a grown-ass man, and can fuck as many guys as he wants. Hell, Duck’s had plenty of bathroom and backseat one-nighters in his time.

But.

Whenever he overhears him, or sees him at the bar after the trysts, all he can think is that Indrid somehow deserves better than a bathroom hook-up who half the time won’t stick around for a second drink. A dinner date, maybe, or a spin through Golden Gate park. Flowers, he bets Indrid would like those. At the very least, he deserves someone who will offer him their jacket when he starts shivering no matter how warm the bar is. Only three guys have, and Duck decide those three are the ones he most approves of.

Then again, maybe the guy he’s with now is a good one.

“Ah! Harder, please, oh goodness yes I-”

“Jesus, do you ever shut up?”

That’s a no then.

When they get back to the bar, Duck glares at the guy as he pays the tab and leaves with only a few words to Indrid, who keeps his eyes downcast.

“Bit of dud?” He leans over the bar, wishing for way to make Indrid look less…muted.

“I suppose. Oh well, they can’t all be charmers.” He flashes Duck a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That they can’t. Speakin’ of which-hey! Boyd I saw that!”

By the time he’s done calming one of his regulars down from trying to pick a fight with an out of towner, Indrid is gone.

———————————

A week later, when Duck sees Indrid take his latest date by the hand and lead him towards the bathrooms, he beats them to the door. He’s put this off longer than he should have.

“Uh uh, Indrid, not tonight.”

Indrid starts blushing with embarrassment as the man he’s with glowers at Duck. He remains undeterred.

“I been getting complaints from other patrons about your, uh, activities back here. It’s makin’ an awful lot of folks uncomfortable that they can hear someone gettin’ their dick sucked when they’re just tryin’ to use the john.”

“Hey, pal, how about you just ignore those complaints?” The date flashes a twenty at him.

“Nope.”

“Look, asshole, just because you serve the drinks at this shitty place-”

“Do not speak to him that way.” Indrid snaps, crosses his arms. The man looks at Duck, still blocking the door, then back at Indrid.

“Whatever, you’re not worth this much hassle.” He disappears.

Indrid glances at Duck, cheeks still pink.

“I’m sorry, Duck, I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you, or make people uncomfortable. I’ll just pay and go.”

“Hey, Indrid, it’s okay, you can stay I just needed you to know what was off-limits, I ain’t mad at you or nothin.” He touches his shoulder reassuringly and Indrid takes a sharp, shaky inhale.

“I, I’m sorry, I s-should”

Duck’s worked in a bar for years, he can tell when someone’s about to cry. Gently, he leads Indrid back to a staff break area, eases him down into a chair.

“You must think I’m reckless and awful.” It’s a sniffle and Duck, having no tissues, grabs a stray handful of napkins.

“Don’t think anythin’ of the kind. Sometimes wonder how you fell into the habits you have, but I also know that’s none of my damn business.”

Indrid blows his nose, tosses the napkin towards the trash.

“I m-moved here a few months ago to be with someone, after he got hired at a tech start-up. Two weeks after I got here, he dumped me. He, he said I was a walking disaster, that I talk too much, that, that I was a starter boyfriend at best and not really even good enough for that and didn’t deserve someone like him.”

“Asshole.” Duck mutters, rubbing a circle on Indrids back, a motion that seems to calm the skinnier man.

“I barely knew anyone, still don’t, and I liked hooking up at first because it was fun but it, it’s also because he was right, I shouldn’t ask for anything more than a few hours with someone. This feels like what I deserve.”

Duck lowers onto his knees in front of Indrid. Cups his chin with one hand, strokes his tangled strands of white hair with the other.

“Indrid, that’s the biggest load of bullshit I ever heard. I’ve gotten to know you plenty well and I can gauran-goddamn-tee you deserve better than givin’ a blowjob on a bathroom floor. You deserve the best this city and the guys in it have to offer.”

Indrid meets his gaze, eyes still watery behind his red glasses. But he smiles, soft and sweet and genuine.

“Thank you, Duck. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said since I got here.”

Duck tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, takes a moment to admire the strange angles of Indrids face.

A crash from out front, followed by Leo, the other bartender, yelling “Boyd!”

“I better go help out. You stay here as long as you need.”

He glances back just as gets to the door. Indrid is looking at him. And he’s still smiling.

———————————

Duck’s resigned himself to the possibility of not seeing Indrid again. After all, the guy was clearly embarrassed and maybe that means he won’t come back to The Beacon.

But Tuesday night, Indrid is in like usual. This time, he’s alone.

“Hey stranger, what’ll you have?” Duck flashes him a teasing smile.

“The sweetest thing you can make me.”

Duck pours a few ingredients into a glass, tosses a maraschino cherry in and slides it to Indrid. The taller man takes a sip. Grins, takes another, and then chugs half the drink before popping the cherry into his mouth.

“What is this?”

“Shirley Temple.”

“Wait, that’s-”

“Nonalcoholic? Yeah. Look, Indrid, I got a confession: your drinks have had little to no booze in ‘em since week two you of you comin’ here, because I watched you wince and then not drink ‘em when they did. Don’t worry, I charged you less for ‘em. Even made you a few experimental ones that I figured would be to your tastes”

“You….made special drinks for me?”

“Yep.” Duck serves two more regulars as Indrid contemplatively sips from his glass.

“That’s sweet.”

“Oughta be, mostly grenadine.”

“No, I meant what you did. With the drinks” He smiles shyly at him and Duck feels his cheeks heat up.

“I think I’d only like nonalcoholic ones from now on.”

“Roger that.” Duck winks at him just as another regular, one he needs to have a word with, steps up to the bar.

“Ned, for chrissake, will you tell Boyd that he doesn’t need to take on every straight dude-bro who wanders in here.”

“I take it my beau has become overeager in his quest to ensure a safe space?”

“He broke a chair, Ned. And while I appreciate the time he literally carried the guy who took issue with me bein’ trans out the door, if I wanted a bouncer I’d hire one.”

“Very well friend Duck, very well.” Ned notices Indrid, nods at him, “I see you’re flying solo this evening.”

“Yes, I’ve decided a change of pace was in order.” He smiles at Duck again and this time his heart flutters more than it usually does when Indrid’s around.

The pattern changes over the next few weeks. Indrid will come in multiple days a week, though now he favors late afternoon or early evening on weekends, and shows up on weeknights that are usually slow. Duck makes him something sweet, with as many maraschino cherries as ice cubes. Indrid will talk with Duck, or draw on the sketchpad he brings, and as the days go by he starts to open up more to Ned, Boyd, and a few other regulars.

Through their talks, Duck learns that Indrid works as psychic/palm reader/tarot reader as well as taking commissions for his art. That he loves the fog, even though it’s cold, and that he really likes Dim Sum, boba tea, and kool-aid. They swap stories about their tattoos, and whenever Duck recommends a sight to see in the city or in the east bay, Indrid jots it down. Duck finds him easy to talk to, full of ideas and anecdotes, hands moving animatedly as he speaks and it’s so endearing Duck doesn’t mind the few times he knocks a glass over.

Yeah, his ex was full of shit.

———————————

It’s a busy Friday night and Duck is feeling good. He woke up feeling himself (as his friend Aubrey likes to say) and as result is dressed extra sharp, with pants he knows make his ass look amazing. Indrid is in his usual spot, the stool on the farthest end of the bar, and although Duck doesn’t have much time to chat, he still sends the odd smile and wink his way. Towards the end of the night, right before closing, Indrid disappears and Duck assumes he went home.

After everyone is out, he shuts and locks the door and begins cleaning up. He steps into the bathroom to make sure it’s not so wrecked that he can’t leave it until tomorrow when he hears a familiar noise.

It’s Indrid, in the stall behind him, letting out breathy, high moans and clearly trying to keep quiet.

He sighs.

“Okay fellas, I already closed up, so how’s about continuin’ this somewhere else.”

There’s a muffled curse and then Indrid steps out. Alone. He washes his hands hurriedly.

“Sorry, I lost track of time.”

“Someone out there got you all worked up?”

Indrid turns, his eyes slowly taking in Duck from top to toe.

“You could say that.”

“Really now? What else could you say?”

“I’d say-” As Indrid speaks Duck takes a step towards him, accidentally knocking his keys from the counter onto the floor. Indrid kneels down to grab them, ends up eye-level with his belt, freezes as he looks up at Duck. They’re so close, so very close.

Indrid leans forward an inch, kisses Ducks stomach quickly, stands up just as fast and hands Duck his keys.

“I should go.” He doesn’t move an inch.

“First you should finish answerin’ my question.”

“I would say” Indrid whispers, picking his words carefully, “that if the person I was thinking of was in this room, I would very much not object to him kissing me.”

Duck doesn’t hesitate, takes Indrid by the shoulders and pulls him into a kiss. Indrid threads his fingers into Ducks hair, let’s the shorter man press him against the counter. Duck laughs into the kiss as Indrid starts taking the phrase “climb him like a tree” literally, trying to wrap his legs around Duck and bring them closer.

“Somethin else you want, darlin’?” Duck pants when they finally break apart.

“Yes, but I have it on good authority it’s not permitted in this bathroom.”

Duck slides his hands into Indrids back pockets.

“Ain’t no one here to make uncomfortable. And a perk of ownin’ the places is that I can make exceptions to the rules. Like, say, when a cute fella makes me so hard I can’t see straight.”

Indrid kisses him again at that, small eager sounds bubbling up in his throat.

“How d’you wanna do this?” Duck runs a finger along Indrids collarbone.

“Oh. Uh….” Indrid fiddles with the crystal he always wears around his neck, “I hadn’t given, that is, everyone just assumes I’ll bottom.”

“Well, I ain’t assumin’ nothin’, darlin’. Want you to tell me what you want.”

Indrid bites his lip, nervous, as he looks at Duck.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck kisses him again before letting him step around him. Never has he been more grateful for the fact he keeps a basket of condoms in the bathroom for folks to take if they need. He undoes his belt, gets his pants and boxers down in a hurry and rests his elbows on the counter. When he looks at Indrid the man is frozen, condom in hand, staring at him.

“You doin’ alright there?”

“Yes.” Indrid licks his lips and Duck smirks, begins rubbing lazily at his clit.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” He purrs, gasps a little as he slips two fingers inside.

“Ohgodyes.” Indrid scrambles into motion, stepping behind Duck and wiggling his pants down. There’s a sound of tearing foil and then Duck slips his fingers back out so Indrids cock can take their place.

Indrid pushes in with a soft moan that Duck echoes, then pauses, trails kisses along Ducks neck and back. His hands come to rest atop Ducks, their fingers intertwining as he begins steadily thrusting.

“Goodness this is even better than I imagined.”

“Yeah?” Duck grins over his shoulder at Indrid, “that what you been doin’ while you’re here? Thinkin’ about what’d feel like, ohfuck, to get that nice dick of yours inside me?”

“Well, yes. But, oh god, not only that. I daydreamed about every part of you, touching each inch.” His hands begin roving across Ducks body, shoulders and stomach, chest and arms, even his thighs receive reverent, hungry touches. Duck groans in pleasure, and Indrid presses a kiss to the back of his head, breath growing shakier as his touches turn to grabs.

“C-can I go harder?” He whispers, nuzzling Ducks ear.

“Hard as you want, handsomeOHshit.” His nails scratch at the tile as Indrid straightens, grips his hips and pounds into him. He tosses his head back, a stream of praise and thanks leaving him underscored by the sound of skin hitting skin and that settles it, this is the hottest goddamn thing Duck’s ever seen. He locks eyes with Indrid in the mirror, grinning at how utterly ruined he looks. Indrid suddenly stops making noise, looks a little sheepish.

“Ain’t gotta be quiet on my account, darlin’, like hearin’ that sweet voice moanin’ my name.”

Indrid smiles at him before picking up his pace, hips snapping more erratically.

“Yes, gracious, Duck you feel so good, I’m so close.”

Duck growls, pushes his hips back.

“Sweetheart, Duck, ohmy yes yesyesyes.” He drops his forehead to rest against Duck as he comes, fingers pressing into his skin as he moans more high, broken sounds.

When he pulls out, Duck turns around, contemplating how he wants to come but by the time he’s finished the motion Indrid is on his knees. He thumbs at the join between Ducks hips and thighs, panting, gaze flicking between Ducks clit and his eyes.

“Please?” His eyes are puppy-dog wide. Duck smiles indulgently at him, nods and then Indrids head dives between his legs.

So this is why the guys were always so damn loud on nights when Indrid sucked them off. His tongue is fucking magic. Duck moans, tangles his hands into Indrids hair and grinds his hips.

“Holy fuck, shit, Indrid you’re fuckin’ amazing.”

Indrid meets his eyes, noticeably smiling even as he closes his lips around Ducks clit, making the man yelp and then growl.

“That’s it darlin’, suck my dick, yeah, oh fuck yeah, you’re doin’ so good, that’s it honeyohhhh.” He cums against Indrids tongue, which doesn’t stop moving until his hips stop pulsing.

There’s a minute where the only sound in the room is their joint, ragged breathing. Duck pulls his pants back on as Indrid shimmies his back up. When the taller man looks at him, Duck opens his arms in invitation.

Indrid is in them immediately. Duck holds him tight, feels a little hum of pleasure and happiness buzz against him out of Indrids chest.

From the bar, his closing time playlist switches to a new, slow song, and he begins to sway them gently to the melody.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help

Falling in love with you

Jumping the gun a bit there, King, he thinks, but then Indrid grins down at him and he tilts his head, kissing him slowly and softly, Indrid caressing his cheek with his cold fingers and he knows exactly what the singer means.

They kiss and dance until the song ends. At which point Indrid goes pale.

“Oh no! Shoot! What time is it?” He digs his phone out of his pocket, “Oh damn it, BART will’ve stopped running by the time I get to the station.”

“Hey, no worries, I can call you a cab or one of those ubery things. Or…” Duck takes his hand, “if you don’t got anywhere you have to be in the mornin’, you could crash with me. I live upstairs, so it ain’t far.”

Indrid arches an eyebrow.

“An offer that comes, I’m sure, from purely the goodness of your heart?” He teases.

“Gotta be honest: yes. Fuckin around with you plus workin’ all night wore me out, so I ain’t gonna try anythin.”

Indrid cocks his head, unconvinced.

“Honest” Duck says,”besides, don’t expect anythin’ in exchange for offerin’ a friend a place to sleep.”

“And if the friend offers it tomorrow morning?” Indrid flutters his eyelashes.

“Then I ain’t gonna complain.” He smiles, offers Indrid his hand and the other man takes it.

Once they’re upstairs, he gives Indrid the chance to take the bed for himself and have Duck sleep on the couch but Indrid simply shakes his head, pulls Duck onto the bed with him. They change out of their street clothes, Duck into his boxers and Indrid into one of Ducks sweatshirts. Indrid makes himself into the big spoon, kissing Duck on the neck as they settle in for the night.

“Indrid?”

“Yes Duck?”

“Will you let me take you out? Like on a real date or two, or more if things are goin’ well?”

“Gladly.” Indrid sighs, snuggles up closer, and Duck squeezes the hand resting on his chest.

In the morning Duck wakes up first, slips out of the apartment for a quick errand. By the time he gets back Indrid is stirring, and the skinnier man smiles when Duck holds aloft the breakfast he brought. The smile grows neon-bright when Duck reveals his other purchase from behind his back:

Flowers.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #au list prompt

55 notes · View notes

welcometothepenumbra · 6 years ago

Text

JUNO STEEL AND THE LESSON LEARNED (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Detective Steel entered the Fortezza trying to prevent a murder. But the way this case is going, he might soon be the victim of one. A serial killer from twenty years ago has set her sights on our detective, and if she wins, her murderous curriculum will be renewed.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MICK: Hey, Jay?

JUNO: Yeah, Mick?

MICK: How come it feels like every time I see you we get trapped in some lunatic’s crazy murder-game?

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. Just lucky, I guess.

MUSIC: STARTS.

MICK: Yeah. Now that you mention it… I think you might have pretty bad luck, Juno.

JUNO: Me?!

MICK: Yeah! I mean, the Proctor locks us up, gives us both guns, and says we’ll have to shoot each other if she’s gonna give us the antidote to the-the-the whatyacallit, the-the Sundial Toxin?

JUNO: Hourglass Venom.

MICK: Ha, that’s a good one, Jay, but I’m pretty sure it’s Hourglass Venom, like I said.

JUNO: That’s not what you—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

PROCTOR (FROM COMMS): That’s enough bickering, Mr. Steel, Mr. Mercury. Now, your test is just down this hall. Onward! Education awaits.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The attic of the Fortezza was a condemned cell block from back in the days when this place was for sealing criminals away – not rewarding them. In a lot of ways it reminded me of my old wedding gown: it was dusty, smelled like a lot of dreams had probably died in it, and pushed off into a dark corner somewhere in hopes that everyone would just forget the damn thing ever happened.

And the worst of it all was the tenant here: the Proctor, a fame-seeking serial murderer who’d just come out of retirement and was making up for lost time. First, she planned to kill Mick and me with Intro to Chemistry, and then in two hours she’d move on to the first candidate for mayor in fifty years who might actually try to make this city a better place.

That guy’s name was Ramses O’Flaherty. And my name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye. And right then I was the only thing standing between Ramses and death. And me and death.

MICK: (WHISPERING) Psst! Hey, Jay!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And him and death.

MICK: Jayjay! I just thoughta somethin’!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was usually the only thing standing between Mick and death.

MUSIC: ENDS.

MICK: This is, like, my moment, isn’t it? I took this job so I could prove that danger is what my life’s missing. And hey, this is very dangerous! That’s pretty lucky, I think.

JUNO: With luck like that, you should start investing in lottery tickets.

MICK: Hey, that’s not a bad—

JUNO: Don’t!

(QUIETLY) Can’t make that joke with him, Steel, he’ll really do it.

MICK: What was that?

JUNO: Alright, so you want to be a P.I. or a special agent or something?

MICK: I-I was thinking more like a superhero, but… I’m willin’ to work my way up.

JUNO: If you want to do this, you gotta be able to analyze your situation. So, they must’ve given you some training before they stuffed you in that uniform – didja pick anything up?

MICK: Uhhh, I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.

JUNO: And, there it is.

MICK: Except… oh, oh!! They showed a map of the Fortezza! And I even memorized it!

JUNO: Wait, seriously? That’s perfect, Mercury!

MICK: You’re tellin’ me! And hold on, now, gears are turnin’, gears are turnin’…

Oh! Sweet shining nebula, Jay, I think my brain mighta just done a clue!

JUNO: We’ll clean that up later. This is great! If you remember how this old cell block is organized you should be able to get us to, I don’t know, a boarded up window or wall or something, and maybe we can break through—

MICK: This floor wasn’t on the map!

JUNO: …What?!

MICK: Yeah! They didn’t tell us anything about these floors during training at all! Heh. Wow, this Proctor really is smart, isn’t she? I mean, I’ve lost a room before, but losing two whole floors? You’d have to be, like, a genius to hide two whole floors from the people who own the building!

JUNO: I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. (SIGHS) I don’t know if that’s a sign of genius, Mick, but it’s definitely a sign of something.

MICK: Like what?

JUNO: Not sure yet. But I’ve got a hunch.

MICK: I mean, I didn’t want to say anything, but you should probably work on your posture, buddy.

JUNO: That’s not– nevermind.

(CALLING) Are we there yet? I’m tired and he keeps bugging me.

PROCTOR: Just one more door, Mr. Steel. That’s it… just ahead…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Your next exam!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: Wow, more mannequins!

You shouldn’t have. We moving on to Art 102 now?

PROCTOR: No no, art is behind us. The three lessons you’ll have to pass today are the three Rs: Reasoning, Reading Comprehension, and… well, the last one’s a surprise.

MICK: Sure glad spelling isn’t one of them. I didn’t know surprise started with an R.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The test on Reasoning didn’t look like much. Four mannequins stood in front of us, each with a button on its chest and a tangle of wires snaking into its feet. But there was going to be a trick to it. There had to be.

PROCTOR: The mannequins are only half of the test. Are you ready for the second half?

JUNO: Depends. Is it four more mannequins?

MICK: Jay, that was kinda rude.

PROCTOR: No no, I’m afraid not. Now listen closely, because I’m only going to say this twice:

MICK: Twice?

PROCTOR: Sage, Vladimir, Aisha, and Sponge walked down the road together side-by-side, holding hands. Two wore shirts of red, and two wore shirts of blue; but none would stand next to another wearing the same color shirt.

JUNO: Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

MICK: Who? What? Who??? What???

JUNO: It’s a puzzle, Mick. A stupid puzzle.

PROCTOR: It’s a very good puzzle. Now be quiet.

(CLEARS THROAT) Aisha, the baker whose shirt was red, held hands with only one other person. Sponge’s shirt was also red. Vladimir held hands with two people, one of whom was a detective; the other was Aisha. Sage could not tolerate anyone holding her right hand. Vladimir was not the murderer.

MICK: Well! That got exciting very quickly!

PROCTOR: Among them were a detective, a baker, a fortuneteller, and a murderer. If you do not find the murderer, they will kill everyone else in line – and they will kill you, too. (CACKLES) So tell me: which of these four mannequins is the murderer?

JUNO: This is what you got famous for? Seriously?

PROCTOR: I know! Very impressive, isn’t it? I’ll give you a tip: in a multiple choice exam, always be certain to eliminate silly answers before—

JUNO: It is not impressive! It’s the kind of thing they give to bored middle schoolers when the radiation storms are too bad to go outside for recess!

PROCTOR: So if you can’t solve it, detective, what does that make you?

JUNO: Too busy for this stupid—

MICK: Hey, wait a second, wait a second. You said you’d say all that twice, right? Can you say it again?

JUNO: You’re not really buying into this.

MICK: You said bored middle schoolers did these! And, well! I was a bored middle schooler for nearly five years!

JUNO: Mick, you repeated those grades ‘cause you never went to school.

MICK: Come on, Jay. I really need this. Please?

JUNO: Fine… fine, listen to the dumb puzzle again.

PROCTOR: (CLEARS THROAT) Sage, Vladimir, Aisha, and Sponge walked down the road together side-by-side, holding hands. Two…

JUNO (NARRATOR): While our host gave Mick the rerun of her stupid puzzle, I took this opportunity to investigate my feelings about the last few hours.

Stupid goddamn waste of time puzzles! What am I, some kinda—

MICK: Shh, Jay! I’m tryin’ to listen!

JUNO: Hmph.

PROCTOR: …Vladimir was not the murderer. There. Your last reading. Think carefully – and be sure to check your answers.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It wasn’t an easy puzzle, sure, but it was pretty typical crime scene investigation. Gather the clues, listen to the witnesses, rebuild the past. Hell, this was easier: these witnesses couldn’t even lie to you.

If Mick could solve this… maybe he had a point. Maybe danger was the missing ingredient in the Mick Mercury cocktail.

MICK: Hmm. I see.

JUNO: You… do?

MICK: I thought about it real hard. And my answer is… we press all the buttons at the same time.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Or… not.

PROCTOR: A very… interesting approach.

JUNO: Mick, seriously?

MICK: Yeah! I mean, I thought about the whole puzzle thing, but then I decided it was probably just a red herring. ‘Cause look at them all! They’re so weird and creepy! And I swear a second ago, I saw them all twitch or something, real murrrrderer stuff, so we gotta—

JUNO: They didn’t move, Mick. And the murderer is Sage, on the far right.

MICK: Well, I mean, yeah, that’s the obvious answer.

JUNO: Oh, yeah? Why’s that?

MICK: Because… uh…

(NERVOUS LAUGHING) I-I mean I-I don’t think I gotta waste both our– our time, tryin’ to talk through things we both already know, Jay—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Mick, where the hell are you going?

MICK: C-c-c-y-y-y… I-I… ‘cause– like, d-don’t you feel p-p-poisoned? Definitely feel poisoned, Jay; at– at least a little poisoned? So, I’ll just press this here button, and—

JUNO: Damn it, Mercury! That’s the wrong button!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. THUD.

MICK: What gives?! You said far right! I was goin’ for the far right!

JUNO: You were going for our right, Mick. You need to go for their right.

MICK: No, I mea– I mean—! Well that’s just—!

(SIGHS) Yeah. Yeah okay, that’s reasonable.

SOUND: BUTTON CLICKS. CONGRATULATORY JINGLE PLAYS.

PROCTOR: Excellent job, Mr. Steel! You’ve passed your Reasoning exam with flying colors!

SOUND: HINGE CREAKS OPEN.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Above us opened another trap door, and, another ladder fell out. The top floor. Finally. And with an hour to spare.

MICK: Whew! So, uh, good thing we made it through that one, huh… Juno?

…Jayjay?

JUNO: Give me your gun, Mercury.

MICK: …What?

JUNO: The gun the Proctor gave you. Give it to me.

MICK: But Jay – I’d never shoot you, you know that—

JUNO: You’d never shoot me on purpose, sure. But whatever the hell is up there for the Reading Comprehension test? Some monster made of goddamn books or something? You’re gonna aim for its table of contents and shoot me straight through the epilogue.

MICK: But Jay, we always got into trouble and it was always fine—

JUNO: Yeah, when we were kids. You’re forty, Mick. You’re not a kid anymore! You’re a screw-up, and this stupid danger idea of yours is going to get me killed. Now give me your gun.

MICK: I’m a… screw up?

JUNO: Don’t. You say it about yourself all the time.

MICK: Yeah, but… it’s different hearing it from, uh… Alright.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Here’s the gun.

JUNO: Thanks. Now let’s go.

SOUND: ROPES CREAKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t mean to snap at Mick like that.

Well actually I did mean to, but I felt bad about it, at least. And that's gotta be worth something, right?

Anyway, I didn’t have time to let my conscience have the floor. I could already feel the Hourglass Venom working through me – I could feel my head bloat and stomach throb. It would kill me soon. And just a few minutes after that, it’d kill Ramses.

MICK: (COUGHING) Ah, jeez buddy, I… really don’t feel so good.

JUNO: Yeah, a fatal dose of poison’ll do that to you. (COUGHS)

MICK: I guess in some ways we’re lucky, though. Back in the day I remember her tests were all over the news, and they were so…

There was that guy she killed with a geometry test… I’ve never seen someone’s legs go at that angle before. Or the Phys Ed case: the lady she made run so hard she wore holes in her feet. Or, the worst of all… Home Economics. What makes a person do all that, Jay?

JUNO: Who the hell knows, Mick. It’s not my job to psychoanalyze the killers. I just lock ‘em up.

PROCTOR: Then allow me, detective: raw creative genius. The greatest minds in the world are overtaken with it – the need to build, to create. When one is as skilled as I am, it simply… overtakes you. I am but a slave to the Muse within me.

MICK: But… that doesn’t make any sense.

JUNO: Mick, stop humoring her already.

MICK: No, but it doesn’t make any sense! If she’s got this creative bug or whatever, why should she wait twenty years—

PROCTOR: The Muse cannot be tamed!

(CHUCKLES) > Those old murders were excellent, of course. Nobody’s ever thought of all the applications for a protractor that I have. But genius, like wine, only improves with age.

JUNO: Unless the container’s as cracked up as you are. Then it turns into vinegar.

PROCTOR: I am not vinegar! You’ll see. This is a new era for the Proctor. My second creative career begins with you. And it will be even greater than the first. Go. The Reading Comprehension test is just through that door.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

MICK: (YELPS)

JUNO: …Wait, seriously?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

PROCTOR: Deadly seriously, of course! (CACKLES)

JUNO: It’s just… sixteen more mannequins.

PROCTOR: Just sixteen mannequins, he says! Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to read the directions first?

MICK: Hey, Jay! There’s a paper on this table that says “Reading Exam Directions!”

JUNO: Don’t—! Touch it.

SOUND: PAPER FLIPPING.

“Davis, Major, Anya, Jean, Cobweb, Hephaestus, nine of their friends, and Sponge were walking down a road side-by-side, holding hands—” (GIGGLING)

MICK: I mean, Jay, that is a pretty wide road, but I don’t see what’s so funny—

JUNO: This is the best you’ve got, Proctor? Seriously? Twenty years to think something up and you start writing crossword puzzles?

PROCTOR: They are not crossword puzzles! They are works of logical genius, designed to test your…

JUNO: Ha!

PROCTOR: Stop laughing!

JUNO: HA!

MICK: Heyyy, uh, Jayjay, maybe don’t piss off the killer lady so much—

JUNO: No, come on, Mercury, this puzzle is hilarious. Listen to this: “Thompson had a deadly nut allergy, but none of them knew Anya very well. Major often confused Sponge with one of their friends in a yellow shirt; Cobweb was known to fingerpaint with peanut butter”—? (COUGHING)

PROCTOR: The test you’re laughing at is going to kill you, do you understand? And then who will be laughing? Time’s up! I will! D Minus!

MICK: If you’re laughing, you must have a plan, right? You know the solution to the puzzle?

JUNO: (COUGHING) ‘Course I do. Same as the solution to every test I ever passed in school.

MICK: Study hard? Apply yourself?

JUNO: No. Cheat.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC POWERING-UP BEEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I should’ve thought of it hours before. Getting rid of headaches is the point of technology, isn’t it? Or maybe that’s aspirin. Aspirin’s a kind of technology. Shut up, Steel. The point is, the Theia Spectrum had a filter for detecting electromagnetic frequencies.

THEIA: Now detecting electromagnetic frequencies.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Like that. The cables coming out of the mannequins’ feet had to be hooked up to all the other junk in here, didn’t they? All I had to do was track whichever mannequin had the cable that went back to the door and not… whatever the hell they were gonna do to us. It was hard to see through that rat’s nest, though… and even harder with all the shouting in my ear.

MICK: (COUGHING) Oh, Juno! The mannequins, they’re—

JUNO: Not now, Mercury.

MICK: But it’s just like downstairs, I’m trying to tell you that—

JUNO: You said you wanted to help, right? Well, y’know how you can help me now? By shutting up, staying still, and letting the goddamn professional do his job!

MICK: (WORRIED GROAN)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I found it in seconds: the mannequin three in from the left had a thick coil of wire extending from its feet, through the floor, and toward the door on the room’s far side. The other mannequins weren’t hooked up to any traps I could see – just a little glowing box on each of their chests.

When I thought about it later, I realized those were wireless transmitters. And when I thought about it later, I realized I probably shouldn’t have interrupted Mick, too.

MICK: Jay—

JUNO: It’s that one. Come on, let’s press the button and get the hell out of here.

MICK: I don’t know if you should get so close, Jay; I swear I saw ‘em move and—

SOUND: BUTTON CLICKS. CONGRATULATORY JINGLE PLAYS.

JUNO: There, see? Button’s hooked up straight to the door, now it’s open. Let’s– gahhh!

SOUND: WOODEN RATTLING & CLANKING.

MICK: Jay! The mannequins are moving!

JUNO: I can see that! This one’s got my arm!

MICK: And that one got your other arm!

JUNO: Gee, I had no idea!

PROCTOR: I educate you… I craft these tests for you with my own blood, sweat, and mannequins… and this is how you show your appreciation? You cheat?!

JUNO: Watch it, buddy, you’re gonna pull my damn arm off— ahhhh!

MICK: Oh, no, no, no! Don’t come any closer…

SOUND: RATTLING GETS LOUDER.

PROCTOR: Well, I suppose the last test will have to be cancelled. And too bad: I had an excellent plan for your ‘rithmetic exam.

JUNO: That doesn’t even start with an R, you has-been! AH!

PROCTOR: Perhaps not. But here’s another R for you: Recess!

MICK: Recess? Hey, that sounds kinda nice…

Wow, those things are movin’ quick!

PROCTOR: At Recess, all rules are suspended. Good luck, Mr. Steel and Mr. Mercury. Your classmates play rough.

SOUND: CACOPHONY OF WOODEN CLUNKS & BANGS.

MICK: Jay, what do we do?

JUNO: Personally, I think I say bye-bye to my arm, because it feels like Pinocchio over here’s gonna pull it out of its socket.

MICK: Seriously! Oww!

That one almost got me! I’d fend ‘em off for you, but you took my gun and—

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, don’t remind me! Just get the hell out of here, Mercury! I opened the door, you go without me. Maybe you can find the antidote on your own.

MICK: I’m not just gonna leave you!

JUNO: You’d better! Augh! The only thing I want less than for this wood shop project to rip me in two is to watch it rip you in two first!

MICK: But I can’t— oww!

JUNO: Just go before one of those things gets you!

MICK: I said I wasn’t gonna leave you!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And so in came Mick Mercury to the rescue, fists flying.

MICK: (YELLING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): And sure, it wasn’t exactly elegant—

MICK: Ow, ow, ow, ow, that smarts—!

JUNO (NARRATOR): —but it got the job done.

MICK: Hey, I got ‘em!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And there goes number two.

MICK: The other ones are getting closer!

JUNO: Make for the door, quickly!

SOUND: CLANKING NOISES FADE. PANTING, GASPING. DOOR CLOSES.

MICK: (COUGHING) That was a great idea, Jay… good on ya, closin’ that door behind us.

JUNO: Close it? I didn’t close it. I thought you did.

PROCTOR: Aaaaaaand locked!

SOUND: LOUD SNAP.

Did you really think I’d have remote controls on my mannequins and not on the doors, Mr. Steel? You underestimate my genius.

JUNO: To be honest, Proctor, I haven’t seen any evidence of it yet.

PROCTOR: Of course you have! I have accounted for every possibility! You have been outsmarted at every turn!

JUNO: (COUGHS) Funny. I remember us outsmarting you, twice so far.

PROCTOR: That’s—!

But you still haven’t passed the biggest test of all, have you? It is wise to save the most difficult questions for last, but… your hourglass is running low. Only ten minutes remain before the venom claims you, and only fifteen before I claim Ramses O’Flaherty. But you still have one test to pass: Arithmetic.

JUNO: Still doesn’t start with an R.

PROCTOR: The equation is simple, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you any hints on this one. You will find it written over the doorway you must pass through. And you will find the window you seek on its other side.

JUNO: What about the damn antidote?

PROCTOR: Oh, if you solve this test, Mr. Steel, you will certainly have found the antidote. Though I must say that’s a big “if.” Good luck.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: Alright… alright, let’s do this stupid puzzle. I think I can feel my lungs curdling.

MICK: Uh… Jay? Did you look at this equation yet? ‘Cause… I’m a liiiittle worried.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked.

JUNO: Oh, god damn it.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And this was what the Proctor wanted us to solve:

A stick figure, minus a skull and crossbones, equals a picture of an open door.

MICK: Is that algebra? I was never any good at algebra.

JUNO: The door will only open when we’re not poisoned anymore.

MICK: Hey, that’s alright! How do we do that?

JUNO: I have no idea.

MICK: That’s… less good.

JUNO: Either that, or, the door will only open for someone who isn’t poisoned…

And we know one way to get the antidote.

MICK: Jay, come on, don’t…

JUNO: Here. Take this gun. I never should’ve taken it from you. Just shoot me and get it over with.

MICK: I mean, come on. This isn’t funny.

JUNO: Usually I’m very funny, Mick. Just not trying right now.

MICK: I’m not gonna shoot you.

JUNO: You should.

MICK: Well, whether or not I should, I’m not, alright? You shoot me.

JUNO: No.

MICK: Why not?

JUNO: That’s a stupid question and you know it. I know you’ve got your dumb danger thing or whatever, but it’s a fantasy, and this is real. Just take the damn gun already.

MICK: My whole point was that I didn’t like my life the way it was, alright? I’m not gonna like it any better if I gotta think about shooting you all the time, okay?

JUNO: Hmph.

MICK: Look. We’ve still got ten minutes for this to turn out okay. Okay?

(COUGHS) Anything can happen in ten minutes, Jay. Anything.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Or, nothing can happen in ten minutes. We spent our time kicking the door, coughing, searching the walls for a secret passage, coughing, scanning the room with the Theia Spectrum, and coughing. But that was it. No way through, no secret passage, no hidden antidote: the room was bare. Mick and I were the only things in it.

Oh wait – I think at one point, Mick might’ve puked in the corner. But besides that, there was nothing in the room but us.

SOUND: COUGHING, PANTING.

MICK: How much more time we got?

JUNO: Two minutes.

MICK: That long? (PANTS) Agh, this hurts.

JUNO: (GASPING) So whaddya think, Mercury? Is this how you expected to die? Yukking it up and wishing you’d killed Juno Steel?

MICK: Kinda, yeah.

JUNO & MICK: (LAUGH-COUGHING) Ow, ow, ow!

JUNO: So it turns out this job wasn’t just the biggest mistake of your life, Mick: it was the last one, too.

MICK: Hey, don’t count me out yet. I still got a minute and a hal– agh! Ah-ahhh—!

JUNO: Mick? Mick!

MICK: No, no, I’m alright, I’m alright. (COUGHS) Hey, Jay… why d’you think she goes through all this, just to kill people? I mean… if she wanted to just poison us and lock us in a room, she coulda done it at two minutes in. Hell, she didn’t even need to wait for you – she coulda poisoned me while I was napping in the closet. So… why? Why would you do all that?

JUNO: That’s… that’s a good question, actually.

Well, I mean, based on what was riling her up earlier, she probably just wants to prove she's smarter than us?

MICK: What? But she’s a genius! Why’s she gotta prove it?

JUNO: Being smart and feeling smart are different things, Mick.

MICK: I guess so. I just can’t believe… she cheated us, after all that.

JUNO: Cheated us?

MICK: Yeah. I mean, I thought her whole thing was that her victims can technically make it through her tests alive, right? How’s it prove she’s so smart if she just poisons us and locks us in a room? It doesn’t seem fair.

JUNO: No… it doesn’t.

Actually, now that you mention it, it’s not fair at all.

MICK: I mean, yeah, I’m upset about it too, Jay, but I don’t know how much complaining’s gonna do right now—

JUNO: And it doesn’t prove a damn thing, does it? If one of us has to die, she hasn’t proven she’s smarter than us. It doesn’t make sense.

Mick, I’m about to do something really stupid.

MICK: Yeah? Mind if I join you?

JUNO: Kinda. Just promise me something, alright? If this goes bad – and, trust me, it’s probably gonna go bad – promise you’ll try the door? One last time?

MICK: How come I get the feeling this isn’t gonna be the fun kind of stupid, Juno?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Mick got that feeling for a good reason. Because the man was a disaster, and a mess, and a klutz, and a… well, you get the idea. But here’s one thing he wasn’t, not really: an idiot.

So I took the pistol the Proctor had given me, and I pointed it right in between my eyes.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

MICK: Jay! What’re you doing?!

JUNO: Later, Mick. See you on the other side.

MICK: Put down that gun!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

Juno!

SOUND: THUMP.

Augh, Jay! Jayjay! Don’t leave me here, buddy, come back! You can’t just shoot yourself and leave me—!

JUNO: The other side of that doorway!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

MICK: Owww! That smarts!

JUNO: Damn right it does. That’s what happens when you load your antidote into the barrel of a revolver, Mercury: you get all the fun of a shot with none of the cartoon band-aids.

MICK: But– hey, I-I feel better! The poison’s all gone! You did it, Jay! We made it! But how—?

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

PROCTOR (FROM COMMS): Well done, Mr. Steel. Now, as promised: the door.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Come along, I’m waiting for you.

JUNO: I’ll tell you while we run. Got a mayor to save.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Honestly, Mick, you figured it out before I did. The answer’s all in the motive. Why does the Proctor kill the way she does?

MICK: To prove she’s smart, you said.

JUNO: Exactly. And it doesn’t count as proving she’s smart unless there’s a way we could have figured it out. She said that if we made it through her tests, we’d be cured – which we assumed meant she’d give us the antidote, but she never told us we didn’t have it already.

MICK: But… she told us to shoot each other!

JUNO: And because I’m your friend and you’re a moron, she knew we’d never do it.

(PANTING) So if we had to have access to the antidote somewhere, and there were no hidden compartments or anything in that room—

MICK: That means she had to have given us the antidote ahead of time! Wow, Jay. You’re really good at this, huh?

JUNO: I get by. Barely. And usually with a broken leg or three.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

This must be the room.

SOUND: WIND.

MICK: And that must be the window you were looking for, right?

JUNO: Looks like it, but… where the hell is the Proctor?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Through the window I could see the Fortezza courtyard below: the crowd of people shuffling into their seats and Ramses O’Flaherty shuffling his papers at the podium. I checked my watch. 11:55. Only five minutes until the Proctor took out Ramses… and I had no idea where the hell she was.

PROCTOR: (LAUGHING) You’ve done very well to make it this far, Mr. Steel, Mr. Mercury. Better than expected, I will admit. But this is the end of the line. Welcome to your Final Exam.

JUNO: Where the hell are you?! Damn it, you really did lie to us!

PROCTOR: I didn’t lie to you. I said I was waiting for you, and I was… just not in the Fortezza. When taking an exam, always remember to mark up the questions – that’s how they get you.

JUNO: Where are you?

PROCTOR: I’m afraid that is the sole question on your exam, Mr. Steel. Question one: where is the genius murderer? (LAUGHS) On the windowsill in front of you lies a long-range laser rifle. Enough to kill me, certainly… if you can find me. (CACKLING)

MICK: A rifle? So do you think… she’s somewhere down there, Jay?

JUNO: Maybe, yeah, she’s got to be.

SOUND: MECHANICAL CLICKS.

But… the rifle doesn’t have a stun setting! I can’t kill random people in the crowd!

MICK: You’ll get it, Jay. I know you’ll get it! You’re a sharpshooter! The sharpest there is!

JUNO: Mick…!

MICK: So you better watch yourself, Proctor! He’s the best sniper in this city! They call him One Eyeball Steel!

JUNO: Mick, nobody calls me that—

MICK: One-Ball Steel, then!

JUNO: Nope, nope, went the wrong way on that one.

PROCTOR: Only three minutes left, Mr. Steel. Your answer, please. (LAUGHS) All the best tests instruct just as much as they measure, you know. I wonder what you’ve learned from this one?

JUNO (NARRATOR): That was a good question. In fact, it might’ve been the first good question the Proctor had asked all day.

So what had I learned from this test? The Proctor was working with someone, that was for sure. Even a genius couldn’t manage to smuggle in all of those weapons and mannequins without some serious help. I’d learned that she had confidence issues, too – that whoever had hired her had probably pulled on that, told her that she’d never be able to pull off what she did twenty years ago. Which meant whatever the answer was to this exam, it had to be perfect. It had to be flawless.

JUNO: …Flawless.

PROCTOR: And don’t I know it.

JUNO: It’s got to be flawless. That means the diorama down there has to be completely accurate!

MICK: But you told me the diorama said the laser must have come through this window.

JUNO: Straight from here to the podium, Mercury – but it never said which direction.

MICK: She’s hiding inside the podium?!

PROCTOR: Time’s up, Mr. Steel. You have five seconds to answer.

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was no time, and another problem to deal with: in order to shoot a laser from here to the Proctor, I’d have to send it through Ramses O’Flaherty’s head. So I fired a shot to break the window—

SOUND: GUNSHOT. SHATTERING GLASS.

—and I gave the best warning I could.

SOUND: RAIN.

JUNO: (CALLING) Ramses! Duck!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And either it was my first stroke of luck for the day or the old man had a hell of a reaction time, because he was down on the ground before I was finished shouting his name.

THEIA: Target locked.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

PROCTOR: (GASPS)

MICK: Did it work? Did it work??

SOUND: DISTANT SCREAMS. STATIC CRACKLING.

JUNO: I… guess so.

PROCTOR: (COUGHING) Very well done, Mr. Steel. Perhaps I… finally did meet my intellectual match.

JUNO: Alright, at the start of this whole mess you said you’d tell me who you’re working for if I passed all your tests. Well, I passed ‘em; start talking.

PROCTOR: I suppose I must… I haven’t much time left…

You want to know who hired me to kill Ramses O’Flaherty? It was his worst enemy, of course.

JUNO: Oh, come on! No more tests, no more riddles. I won.

PROCTOR: Education… is its own reward. Now, here's your final question.

(COUGHS) In order to find Ramses’s enemy, you must go home again.

JUNO: Home?! How the hell do you know where I live?

PROCTOR: A frozen place, this home… a land the past, of heroes, of justice… a place further than the inky blackness of space, yet as close as the heart of every child… Home, Mr. Steel. You’ll find Ramses’s enemy, if you just go home.

JUNO: Damn it, stop babbling and give me a straight answer!

PROCTOR: You’ll never solve this. I can hear it in your voice! You’ve lost! I’ve won!

JUNO: Don’t die on me! I’m talking to you!

PROCTOR: I’m the smartest! I’ve beaten you! I could beat… anybody… (PANTING)

SOUND: STATIC FADES.

***

JUNO (NARRATOR): Ramses barked a few orders and the cops were off with their tails between their legs looking for a way to get us down through the Fortezza window. In the meantime, Mick and I celebrated. As well as you can celebrate in the dusty old attic of the person you just killed, anyway.

SOUND: HEAVY RAIN.

MICK: So… we made it! That’s somethin’, right?

JUNO: Sure, Mick. It’s really somethin’.

MICK: Got a little hairy there for a few minutes, but I always knew we’d make it through! Or, at least, I often thought we would. Sometimes, suspected. (CHUCKLES)

Hey… what do you think that riddle she said at the end meant? It sounded pretty tricky to me.

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. But, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t really want to think about the Proctor right now.

MICK: I get it, I get it.

I-I just don’t understand, Jay. She was so smart. She made all those crazy traps and stuff while she was locked in a prison cell. And even if she did have help, she had to build all that so quickly, and so secretly… she must’ve been one of the smartest people on Mars.

So, why’d she have to prove that she was smart all the time? Why’d she have to kill people to do it?

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. Why’s anybody hurt anybody?

MICK: I guess so. …I’m sorry.

JUNO: For what?

MICK: I don’t know. I just felt like one of us had to apologize, and you weren’t gonna do it.

JUNO: Yeah, that makes sense.

But look… Mick, maybe I should apologize. I gave you a lot of crap about your stupid danger theory, but… you were right. We made it out. Again.

(SIGHS) I wish you’d do something else, but who the hell knows? Maybe you’re onto something.

MICK: Wait, seriously? What are you, stupid?

JUNO: What?

MICK: Taking this job was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done, Jay! I didn’t make it out ‘cause I’m lucky, or I’m good at dealing with danger. I made it out ‘cause you bailed me out. I’d be chalk dust without you!

JUNO: That’s… probably true.

And surprisingly responsible.

MICK: I don’t know why nothing ever works out for me, but you were right. I don’t think getting in danger all the time’s the answer either.

Maybe it doesn’t really matter anymore. I mean… I’m just gonna make myself miserable if I’m always trying to be the guy I used to be. So I guess the hard part… the hard part is, figuring out who the hell I am now? …Does that sound right?

JUNO: You could always just stay so busy that you don’t have time to think about it. That’s usually what I do.

But, for what it’s worth, Mercury, I think when you finally figure out who you are… you’re gonna make an impact.

MICK: Aw, Jay, that’s the nicest—

JUNO: Only question is whether the impact is the galactic-peace kind or the gigantic-smoking-crater kind. Could really go either way.

MICK: …Oh. That still might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.

JUNO: You’re welcome.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The cops got us down a few minutes later. I told Mick to go home and then waited on the edge of the crowd while Ramses talked down the reporters.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about the Proctor. About the sound she’d made on her last breath. It wasn’t that I thought I shouldn’tve killed her; I-I was… just a little shaken, I guess.

Because, if real evil exists, then the Proctor – a woman who killed twenty people without remorse – was it. But that means sometimes evil is just someone trying to prove to the world that they’re worth something. Or just prove it to themselves, maybe.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

RAMSES: Juno. You cut it a little close at the end there, but over all… nice work. Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.

JUNO: Home…

This isn’t over yet, Ramses.

RAMSES: Hmm?

JUNO: The Proctor said she’d been hired by someone to kill you. Your worst enemy, she said, and whoever they are, I don’t think they’re gonna let up.

RAMSES: Did she, now. Well. I suppose that’s what I have you for.

JUNO: Ramses, I don’t know—

RAMSES: What else did the Proctor say to you?

JUNO: It was some kind of riddle, I guess, I– couldn’t make any sense of it. Something about going home, a place of heroes, as distant as the stars and close as kids’ hearts…?

RAMSES: (CHUCKLING, THEN FULL-ON HOWLING WITH LAUGHTER)

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: What? …What’s so funny?

RAMSES: An interesting place to strike. I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it sooner.

JUNO: You know the answer to the riddle?

RAMSES: I do, in fact.

SOUND: CAR PULLS UP.

My limo will bring you home. On second thought, I don’t think I’ll be coming with you. I have some calls to make.

JUNO: But Ramses—

RAMSES: Tomorrow morning, I think… no, no, I’ll send a car for you again tomorrow night. Rest up until then.

JUNO: Ramses, listen to me, damn it! Where the hell is she trying to send us? All this stupid stuff about my home?

RAMSES: (CHUCKLES) Oh, Juno. When she said ‘home,’ she didn’t mean yours. She meant mine.

SOUND: KNOCKING.

Bring him home, please.

JUNO: Ramses, you can’t start talking nonsense, too.

RAMSES: All in good time, my friend. Rest up. Tomorrow night… adventure awaits.

SOUND: CAR DOOR SLAMS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I watched him as the car pulled away – Ramses O’Flaherty, who hadn’t even existed thirty years ago, who had a good shot at being the next mayor of Hyperion City. Ramses O’Flaherty: the man who was all future and no past.

There was something appealing about that, I’ll admit. The thought that you could just shed your old self like an old skin and become someone new. Someone important. Someone like Ramses O’Flaherty.

So turn your back on the past, Steel. Tie yourself to the man of the future… and hope that what’s ahead is better than what you left behind.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you've enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you will receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from Noah Simes, co-creator Kevin Vibert, and actors ALlison Choat and Stefano Perti:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

NOAH: …I mean I think this is a testament both Kevin, to your writing of Mick and Stefano, your portrayal of him, but, y’know, I– I certainly can sort of identify with that feeling of like, I haven’t done… enough, or I haven’t done what I’m supposed to do—

STEFANO: Yes. Please don't have let that have been my greatest moment—

NOAH: Right, right, yeah!

STEFANO: —no matter what that moment is.

NOAH: Right, beca– right. You never know what the high peak is gonna be, and you just pray that it…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Jaimie Gunter, The Princess and the Scrivener, Hannah Tsim, and Elizabeth Miller for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, AlLison Choat as the Proctor, and Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I'm afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

13 notes · View notes