#van: revelations

[mortemoppetere]

TIMING: current LOCATION: worm row PARTIES: @vanoincidence & @mortemoppetere SUMMARY: while tracking a ghoul near the goo, emilio runs into van and experiences her stress response tactics. CONTENT: vomiting tw

His head hurt. It usually did, these days. Between the constant hangover he only ever managed to stave off with more whiskey and the stench of the goo that was clinging to everything in town, it was hard to escape the constant pounding in his head. Some things made it better for a little while, sure, but the list of things that made it worse was a lot longer.

And one of the things that tended to land on that longer list was walking towards him now. 

Emilio bit back a groan as she approached, trying to remember that she was still just a kid, no matter how annoying she was. Right now, unfortunately, she was a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

He’d been tracking a ghoul. Nothing too challenging, with the headache and all, but driven from its usual graveyard haunt by the goo and dangerous enough that he was hoping to off it before it ran into anyone else. Someone like Van, for example, who was just as fucking stubborn as every other twenty-something in Wicked’s Rest.

“You should be going home,” he called out to her as she approached. “There is sludge.”

—

Van had been on her way home from work when she got stuck. 

Not literally, but a door had opened and some of the goo spilled out onto the street, causing her to (badly) parkour over it. She caught the cuff of her jeans on a piece of metal and it ripped halfway up her leg. After she moved away from the goo, she managed to tear the other side as well to at least seem presentable. Whether or not the goo was traveling or somebody had put it somewhere downtown, she wasn’t sure. 

She didn’t care to know, either. 

The sound of footsteps, and then– Emilio’s voice, cut through the constant turning of thoughts in her head. Her gaze snapped up to meet his and a deep frown pulled at the corners of her lips. 

“I can see that, and like, I can’t go home because home is covered in sludge.” She thought to tell him where she was staying, but wasn’t sure it’d be worth it. He’d probably tell her she was lying. “If I should go home then you should definitely go home.”

—

He crossed his arms over his chest, because he’d been expecting this. If there was one thing kids in this town enjoyed, it was an argument. Emilio was pretty sure he’d bickered with just about every one of them at least once now. That might say more about you than it does about them, Milio, said the voice in his head that sounded like Juliana, the one that always came to the forefront of his mind when he was being stubborn and stupid. It always made a little too much sense for his liking. 

“And you sleep in the streets now? Is this it? It’s November.” He was, in fact, using the same argument Zane had hit him with, though he’d deny that and call it a coincidence if pressed. The last thing Emilio wanted to do was admit to anyone that Zane made good points sometimes. It felt wrong just thinking it. “My apartment is gone. Lost to el pringue. Now I haunt the streets and tell people to go away. So go away.” He liked to think of this as speaking Van’s language. Juliana would say it was more along the lines of being a dick. It was all a matter of perspective, really. 

—

Emilio was crossing his arms and Van mirrored his pose, pulling her own tightly against her chest. She stared across the distance to him, lips quirking to the side as she tried to seemingly size him up. 

“No, I don’t sleep in the streets, but I wouldn’t judge anybody who did.” She squinted at him. He smelled a little less like alcohol from the last time she’d seen him. She wasn’t really sure what that meant, all things considered. Van blew her hair out of her face before continuing, “and I know it’s November. It’s one of the best months. Why wouldn’t I know it’s November?” When it came to most people older than her, she couldn’t seem to form an argument. Whether it was repelling from any possible approval they might offer, she wasn’t sure. But she knew Emilio wouldn’t care if she dropped dead right in front of him, so that’s what made it easy. 

Van frowned as Emilio spoke. “You haunt the streets? It’s not October, so that doesn’t really  fit the theme, but you are like, kind of scary.” She waved her hand in front of her face, “visually, I mean.” 

—

She stared at him, and he stared back. He wasn’t sure if it was a contest or not, but it was safer to treat it as one so that he wouldn’t lose. Very mature, Milio, Juliana’s voice sighed in his head. He ignored it. Better to be immature than to risk losing a staring contest to Van.

“It’s not judging to ask if you are sleeping in the streets.” It was more along the lines of concern, though he thought they’d both be happier if he didn’t admit that. “I just mean — It’s cold in November. I know you know what month it is. I’m saying you shouldn’t sleep in the streets when it’s cold, so you don’t end up in a hospital with annoying nurses and stupid beds. They have better things to do, you have better things to do. Everyone has better things to do.” All right, so maybe Zane had been better at this argument than he was. Emilio would never admit to that.

He blinked, looking half-offended. “You think I’m scary?” He looked down at himself, trying to clock what it was. His jeans were too dark to make out the bloodstains on them. His shirt was… cleaner than most of the shirts he had. His jacket was half-zipped, and the pockets were lumpy but not in a way that revealed that they were full of weapons. “I don’t look scary,” he decided. “Maybe you’re bad at knowing what’s scary.”

—

“Hey, nurses aren’t annoying. They’re the backbone of society.” She’d learned that on Tik Tok. Van didn’t like hospitals, as it was, but she didn’t feel the need to tell Emilio that. It wasn’t like she’d ever really been in one, anyway. Maybe after her parents passed, but that’d been the morgue, and she wasn’t even really sure it was a hospital or if it was the police station. She liked to block out those memories, anyway. 

“I have jackets. A lot of them.” She didn’t– they were lost to the goo inside of her house, “but like, that’s besides the point.” Was it? She wasn’t sure. Van maintained eye contact, not willing to lose out to the person in front of her. It was childish, sure, but he was matching her energy so what was she supposed to do? Pretend it wasn’t happening? Be the bigger person? Yeah, right. 

Van rolled her eyes at his question. “Obviously you’re scary. When’s the last time you shaved? Why are you walking around in the dark?” A lot of people walked around in the dark. She was walking around in the dark. A brief pause, before she continued, “and I’m good at knowing what’s scary. I have nightmares all the time.” Not necessarily needed information, but whatever. 

—

“Someone can be important and still be annoying,” Emilio pointed out stubbornly. He thought Zane did decent work at the hospital. He still thought he was annoying. It had little to do with his profession and much more to do with the way he was always asking Emilio incredibly annoying questions, like Are you okay or Do you need stitches. No one wanted to deal with that shit; he figured Van wouldn’t, either. But she didn’t seem particularly swayed by the threat, and Emilio rolled his eyes in response.

She had jackets. Did that mean she was living on the streets? A hint of traitorous concern ebbed in his chest, and he eyed her carefully, trying to determine if she looked like someone who’d slept in an alley the night before. It was hard to tell. She said she wasn’t sleeping in the streets, though, so he figured all he could do was believe her. “Fine,” he relented, throwing his hands up. She was easily one of the most frustrating kids in this town, and that was saying something.

Reaching up, he touched his own face experimentally. “Not shaving doesn’t make me scary.” Though he had gone a little longer than usual. He obviously hadn’t done much of it in the bar, and something about shaving in Teddy’s bathroom felt… strange. Like he was imposing, like he was doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “I’m walking around in the dark because I wanted to go for a walk. And it’s dark.��� Not entirely true, but… whatever. “And am I in those nightmares? No? Then I’m not scary.”

—

Van didn’t really have much to say about that, because Emilio was right. She hated that he was right. She knew a lot of important people and they were annoying. Some she cared about, and some she didn’t. Like Jade, she was annoying, but Van found herself caring for her. It was the harsh reality of making connections outside of the internet. 

It seemed as though she won one part of their argument, and she had to do everything from pumping he fist into the air in response. Van turned her attention to the street they were on, gaze wandering over the streetlights, and then back to Emilio. “Fine.” 

She thought about her dad for a brief moment, about the way he would walk up to her mom and rub the stubble on his chin against her cheek. He knew that she hated it, but he did it anyway. They would argue— about that, and not about the bad things. And Van would laugh. Van pushed the memory away out of desperation as she shrugged at Emilio’s comment. “It does. You should look at yourself in the mirror.” She felt her chest tighten. 

“It’s dark, and you’re going on a walk, don’t you think that’s weird?” He asked if he was in the nightmares and she shook her head. “No, because that would mean I’d need to think about you, but facial hair is in—“ She heard a noise then, from the shadows behind them. Van squinted into the darkness, nearly jumping out of her skin when a raccoon tipped over a trashcan in the alleyway. “Dude!” 

—

“I look at myself in the mirror plenty.” He noted the strange shift in her expression; small, minute, probably barely noticeable to someone who wasn’t a detective, someone who hadn’t been trained to look at the world like a fighting ring and the people around him as opponents. Change in expression was an important thing to track. It told you when a vampire was about to attack, when a zombie was shifting between reasonable and feral, when your mother was about to raise her fist.

It wasn’t as vital, in this case. Noting Van’s momentary change in expression here wouldn’t save his life, but it also wasn’t a thing he knew how to turn off. That was the problem with Emilio, really; he was endlessly trapped in a state of fight or flight that never entirely went away. The whole world was still a battleground. He was still fighting. He had no idea how to quit.

Which came across as stubbornness more often than not. It saw him arguing with kids in goo-filled streets because that, too, was a fight he didn’t know how to walk away from. “I can see in the dark,” he said flatly. A true statement. A mostly irrelevant statement. A great argument to make.

There was a sound from the alley, and Emilio positioned himself between Van and its opening instinctively. Sharp eyes cut through the darkness, making out the shape in the trashcan. “Raccoon,” he announced. “But you should —” He saw it as he turned back to face her; the real threat, the one he’d actually been hunting, coming at them from the opposite side. “¡Chingados!” Emilio readied his knife, prepared to leap into action.

—

She wanted to make a comment about how most old people couldn’t see, but she didn’t want to come across as mean. At least, more mean than she was already being with Emilio. Van  wasn’t really sure how to react, though, when Emilio put himself in between herself and the alleyway from where the noise had come from. 

Van took a small step back, peering around him. He spoke and she lifted her gaze to his, or tried to— why was he so tall? She felt small compared to him. Small in ways she didn’t feel small with other people. She didn’t like it. 

Just as she was about to open her mouth, he was shouting and he had a WAIT– was that a knife?! Van spun around to see what he was looking out and her scream filled the night air, terror plucking at her as if she were a marionette. She stumbled backwards, crashing into Emilio’s side before she fell to the ground, elbows pinned at her sides, marred with grit and asphalt. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Whatever it was, whatever this was, it reminded her of the rat in the kitchen at Sly Slice only bigger, meaner, scarier. It smelled like death, the closer it got. Van pushed backwards, arms dragging against the ground as she tried to get far away from it. 

—

She was terrified. It was hard not to feel a pang of sympathy towards her as she screamed. Van was a little annoying sometimes, but she was still a kid. As far as Emilio could tell, she was a kid who didn’t know an awful lot about the supernatural, even if Perro’s fondness for her meant that she probably wasn’t entirely human. Ghouls were scary-looking creatures, if you weren’t used to them. Emilio still remembered the fear in his gut when he’d been locked up with his first one.

He stepped in front of her, trying to block the ghoul from view. He doubted it’d do any good; she’d already seen it, so the fear was already there. Blocking something from sight might help a younger kid stave off the fear — like putting a blanket over your head and pretending nothing could hurt you if you couldn’t see it — but for Van? Things were probably going to be a little more complicated.

Which meant the solution, of course, was to kill this thing as quickly as possible. “Stay behind me,” Emilio ordered gruffly. “I won’t let it at you, all right? I’ve got you, you’re safe.” And he got to kill something which, admittedly, he did enjoy. 

—

She hadn’t expected Emilio to block the creature from view. Whether it was because it was creepy looking, or because he intended to take care of it, she wasn’t sure. Van felt the soreness in her elbows, and she could tell they were bleeding. That was the least of her worries though, especially right now. 

Van wasn’t really sure what she was looking at, even if it was no longer in front of her– at least, not within direct view. Emilio was speaking and Van’s gaze tore from his back to the space in front of him, but she could only smell it, not see it. He was reassuring her and she had to trust him, even if they didn’t see eye to eye. Even if she annoyed him and he annoyed her, he was putting his life on the line for her. 

It was time to wake up, she realized. The world was not what it once was, and she had magic and the creature in front of Emilio was not some idiot in cosplay fucking around and finding out. This was real. Nora was a bugbear, she had magic, and other things existed. Things like this, and it was about time she accepted it. “Okay,” Van managed out, breath shaky as she continued crawling backwards. 

—

It was strange, sometimes, to think about the experiences of people like Van and how they compared to his own. By the time he was her age, Emilio had killed so many ghouls that the sight of one filled him with something more akin to irritation than fear. They were pests, more than anything; like a mouse who’d gotten into the kitchen or a cockroach crawling out from under the sofa. Something to be dealt with, but not something to fear.

And yet, he could feel Van’s fear behind him. He couldn’t quite bring himself to blame her for it. To him, a ghoul was a cockroach. To her, it was something far more sinister. It was tangible proof of a world she may have only known vaguely about before now, an undeniable truth sitting in front of her in the street. And a dangerous one, to people who didn’t know how to deal with it. People were killed by ghouls, even if slayers typically weren’t. 

He flipped his knife in his hand, taking a step towards the ghoul. In any case, Van wasn’t in any danger of dying to this. Not while Emilio was around. He was built for this, after all, was trained for it. This was what he existed to do, and he’d do it without complaint or problem. Sparing another glance backwards to make sure she was at a safe distance, Emilio sprung forward knife first to attack the creature.

—

When Emilio had told her he wouldn’t let whatever was in front of them hurt her, she had assumed it’d mean that they’d both run away. That he would drag her and she’d lag behind, out of breath. They’d turn a corner and she’d make a joke about how that thing needed to get its hair cut. Did it even have hair? Van couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t think so. Or maybe there wouldn’t be a joke. Maybe she would start to cry, or maybe things would start to melt, exactly as they were now. 

The crotchety man in front of her lunged forward, a knife at the ready. It glinted beneath the light of the streetlamps and she felt a shiver run down her spine. It reminded her so much of the knife that Debbie had drawn on them. Then again, she wasn’t really all that great about identifying weapons, not if they weren’t from video games. 

Van sucked in a breath as she watched the asphalt beneath the ghoul begin to melt away, just as things when she became overwhelmed did. The ghoul staggered, as if ready to attack Emilio back, but instead it fell to the side, losing its balance. In doing so, it managed to fall face first into some of the actual goo that was off the roadside– something Van would have definitely stepped in if she weren’t careful. Van stared wide-eyed as the ghoul became statuesque, unmoving– unthreatening. 

—

Something strange happened as Emilio lunged forward. The ground beneath the ghoul’s feet seemed to shift, bubbling and sizzling in a way that was… definitely not normal. For a moment, the hunter feared that the goo was spreading, that it was about to overtake him, too. He felt a brief flash of irritated rage at the thought, sparing a moment to hope that Van would have enough sense to run before it got to her, too. But it wasn’t goo that bubbled beneath the ghoul’s feet; it was asphalt. 

The ground was melting, somehow. Going from solid to more liquidy, throwing the creature off balance. It still tried to lunge for him — ghouls were stupid things, which was why they were mostly used as practice for kids in Emilio’s line of work — but it was much less successful than it otherwise might have been. It stumbled and fell off to the side, landing in the goo and quickly being overtaken by it. Within seconds, it was turned to stone.

Emilio stood in place, just… staring for a moment. The adrenaline his body had built up in preparation for the fight was still surging, but it had no place to go now. He felt… a little disappointed, if he was being honest. Blinking, he turned back towards Van, who was… looking a lot less shocked at the melted asphalt than he might have thought. “Ground melting now?” He asked experimentally. Maybe this was something that had come with the goo and he’d missed it in all the stress of escaping his apartment and moving in with Teddy.

—

Van stared at the statuesque being, not quite sure what to say or do. She didn’t even really know what it was she was looking at. Emilio seemed to know, but she didn’t know if she could ask him the question that burned beneath her tongue. She finally managed to get to her feet, though her legs were shaking beneath her. She felt like she might throw up. 

The back of Emilio’s head seemed angry too, and Van wasn’t sure how that was possible– how somebody could look angry, or disgruntled from behind. Emilio made it look easy, that was for sure. Finally, he turned back to face her and she forced her gaze to meet anywhere but his. His words spun around her like stupid comical little cartoon birds. Bile rose in her throat and she twisted, spilling the contents of her stomach onto the side of the road without the goo. 

Whether it was from the anxiety or the fear, she couldn’t tell. She stayed bent over for a moment longer before nodding slowly, wiping the spittle away with the back of her sleeve. Van clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. Her nose and eyes burned from the act prior, and she just wanted to leave, but Emilio was sure to find out. “Why were you just going to attack it?” Instead of answering his question, she decided to ask one of her own, though her voice was shaky. 

—

Van expelled her lunch onto the ground, and Emilio wondered if maybe he’d misread her lack of shock about the melting asphalt. Maybe she responded to the surprise differently than he was used to; after all, Emilio had been taught to take such things in stride, but most people weren’t. Most people didn’t respond to impossible situations with dry humor. 

He sighed, half wanting to take a step forward and steady her on instinct alone. Fatherhood, as it turned out, was a hard thing to shake, no matter how long it had been since you’d had an actual kid to practice it on. Van didn’t want his support, he knew; she’d made that much clear more than once, and he could respect it. So he stayed where he stood, a few feet in front of her, between her and the gooey statue that was no longer a threat.

“What else was I supposed to do? Would have chased us if we ran.” It was a better answer than the real one, than because I’m supposed to. Van was more likely to understand one than the other. “Not much of a threat now, though. Guess I’ll have to come back and take care of it if the statues ever… stop being statues.” For Arden’s case, he hoped it would happen, but as time went on he became less and less sure that it was within the realm of possibilities. Emilio considered himself a realist, even if others would dub him a pessimist. Often, he found the two words to be interchangeable. “You good?”

—

Van couldn’t believe that this entire time, her life was like something out of Scooby Doo. None of the good episodes either. Not hot goth rocker chicks, no really good sandwiches. No, just the trauma and the tears. She inhaled sharply, immediately regretting it as the burn in her nose made itself known once more. Van tugged at the sleeves of her sweater and looked towards the creature that was now solidified. What would happen when the goo became not goo? Would it come back to attack them? To attack other people? She wasn’t even sure what it was, really. Just that it was real, despite her attempts at dissociation. 

But Emilio was answering that, too. It was like he was reading her mind. 

She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of whatever it was that had nearly attacked them. Van hadn’t ever seen anything like it. “Am I good?” She looked at him, distraught. “I just threw up! We almost died! I melted the–” She stopped herself, expression going blank. “Never mind, yes, I’m fine. Great, perfect, super fucking cool, Emilio.” Van inhaled sharply and waved away the question she knew would come, “you can– just– ignore the last part.” 

—

She was clearly panicking, and Emilio was ill-equipped to deal with it. He knew how to kill monsters, but he didn’t know how to comfort people when the threat had been eliminated. He’d never been taught that, never had such useless things added to his arsenal. He didn’t even have an example to follow — no one had ever done much to comfort him, after all. He couldn’t do much more than stand and stare as Van spiraled, shifting his weight awkwardly and trying to resist the urge to simply walk away.

But something she said stuck out, though she cut it off before it came out. I melted the– What was that supposed to mean? He glanced back to the melted asphalt that had tripped up the ghoul, then settled his gaze back on the kid. Not completely human, he reminded himself. Not if Perro’s sharp senses could be believed. And Perro had called it with Ren, with Leti, with every other not-quite-human person Emilio had met. He’d assumed Van was some kind of shifter, maybe a new wolf, or a hunter who’d somehow been raised as a human but… Maybe he’d been wrong about that. “No,” he said flatly. “What do you mean? You did this?”

—

“You think I did the goo?!” Deflecting was the best case here, Van thought. “You think that I, Vanessa Zhou, known as Van–” She stumbled over her words, “twenty years old, and cashier at Sly Slice created the goo? No way!” A sarcastic laugh filled the air, and it was loud enough to hurt her own ears from the previous silence. She was fumbling now, with her reasoning, with the excuses– with the fact that all of this was real. 

“You had a knife. Let’s talk about that, because I think that’s like, super important!” Nora had a knife too, didn’t she? And Ren? She didn’t know anyone else who had one. Maybe Nora got her knife from Emilio, especially because Van knew that her friend worked for him. “I didn’t do the goo, Emilio. I’m good not goo-d.” That didn’t make any sense, but she didn’t know what else to say. “So um, if you’ll–” She made a grand motion towards the sidewalk that was goo-less. “I’m going to just– yeah, I’m going to go.” 

—

“No, I don’t think you did the goo.” Frustration was clear in his tone. “I’m talking about the melted shit. You said you melted — Your name is Vanessa?” Not the thing to focus on. He shook his head. “You started to say you melted the ground. I heard you.” What did that make her, then? He knew an awful lot about the supernatural, but he often floundered when trying to guess what exactly someone might be when the answer wasn’t obvious. His family had never focused much on anything outside the undead, after all, and he didn’t always know the full capabilities of those that were considered ‘friendly.’ Why learn about something that wasn’t a threat when eliminating threats was all you were good for? 

Emilio crossed his arms over his chest, tucking the knife out of sight. “Lots of people have knives. A knife is a normal thing to have.” Maybe not quite as many knives as he had on his person, but it wasn’t as if Van knew about those. “Jesus Christ. I’m not saying you did the goo. Goo wasn’t what tripped that gho — that thing up.” He made no move to stop her, but also made no attempt to move out of her way. “You know, it would be easier if you just tell me what’s going on. If you don’t, I’ll have to look into it. Do you want me looking into your business? I’m very good at it, you know.”

—

Was he going to start calling her Vanessa? God, she really should have just shut up. Her nerves were shot and her mouth tasted bad and she just wanted to go home. “Yes, but don’t call me that! It’s Van.” She bit the inside of her cheek as she watched his expression. Was he going to be terrified? Would he attack her like he had tried to attack the creature? No, that wouldn’t make sense. She wasn’t anything like that creature, and she didn’t smell bad. Emilio smelled bad, maybe he didn’t care if she didn’t smell bad. Then again, he mostly just smelled like stale cigarettes and liquor. 

The knife was out of sight and she felt a weight lift off of her. Something in it reminded her so much of that fateful night she came together with the other allgoods, even if this was very different. Emilio nearly slipped, naming the very thing that had attacked them, but Van was too focused on everything else to catch it. “Don’t look into my business! I don’t even own a business!” Van wasn’t sure how this had started, and how she couldn’t just keep her stupid mouth shut. “Why are you so nosy? You have your secrets! Should I ask how you know how to use your knife? Do you want me to ask those things? I don’t think so!” But he wouldn’t grant her the same decency, that much was obvious. With another sharp inhale, Van stomped her foot onto the ground. The asphalt that had melted just stayed like that, as if rubber of some kind, only more liquidy. 

—

“Why would you say it if you didn’t want me to call you it,” he shot back. He probably should have been the mature one here; he was older, after all, and he’d been a parent once upon a time. But Van always seemed to bring out the part of him that was nine years old and thrived on irritating his siblings. These days, with everything going on, she was sometimes better at it than Rhett was. Maybe it was that stubborn streak of hers. She knew how to press all the right buttons. She was good at being annoying. He was pretty sure she knew it.

He furrowed his brow, trying to decide if he was worse at English than he thought he was or if she was purposely misunderstanding him. Maybe some mixture of the two, he decided. “It is my job to be nosy. I’m a detective. So I detect.” He said nothing about her point that he, too, had secrets he’d rather not have anyone look into. In all honesty, Emilio wasn’t worried about Van uncovering anything from his past. With her seemingly limited knowledge of the supernatural, it was unlikely that she’d manage to find anything substantial there. He rolled his eyes as she stomped, shaking his head. “You can act like a child if you want. It won’t stop me from figuring this out. So you tell me, or I look. Up to you.”

—

“Because I said known as Van! Do not call me Vanessa.” Though her tone was vaguely threatening, she figured she looked more like a kicked puppy than anything that could actually hurt him. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to think that she could hurt him with the weird melting trick she had done, or if she’d prefer that he not think of her as a threat at all. 

“Stop detecting, or if you’re going to do that, go find some metal or something!” Van was hopeful that by spinning their conversation in a number of ways, he would ultimately drop the reason for why they were discussing this at all. She was good at it, and had been doing it for years. Some people saw her for what she was better than others, but she hoped Emilio would become annoyed instead of continuing to pursue it. 

Unfortunately for her, he seemed ready to pursue. “You’re harassing this child.” It was the first time she had referred to herself as such, usually so ready to define herself as an adult, “about things she doesn’t know about.” Van’s voice wavered, anxiety coiled in her chest like a spring. It was only a matter of time before her head blew off her shoulders and shot into the sky. “What are you even going to look up? My family trauma? Nice try.” The most he would find is that she didn’t finish college, or that her parents died, or that her grandma left her behind. She was bitter about this, bitter at herself for giving information she shouldn’t have. She felt stupid. She had been panicking, and she should have known better. She tried to force her gaze away from the creature in the goo, still statuesque. “This is getting creepy and I’m going home.” 

—

“Sorry, Vanessa, I don’t think I understand,” Emilio replied dryly, just to be contrary. He wouldn’t actually call her by a name that went against her preference — he wasn’t that much of an asshole — but it was a little too tempting to avoid fucking with her in the moment. 

Of course, the confusion that furrowed his brow as she continued was a little more genuine, because what did metal have to do with any of this? Something else he wasn’t familiar with? He resisted the urge to fiddle with the knife in his hand, worried that the motion would be taken as a threat with how high tensions seemed to have climbed between them. He didn’t want to make her genuinely uncomfortable, didn’t want to scare her more than she’d already been scared by the now-harmless ghoul. 

“I thought you weren’t a child. Haven’t I seen you argue with people about this?” Frustration was building. He doubted he’d get any answers from her directly, which meant he would look into it on his own. A mixture of curiosity and a deep-seated paranoia that required him to have as much information about any given situation as possible wouldn’t let him leave things be, no matter how harmless they might seem from the outside. “And you do know about it. You’re the one who said it first.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Could start there. Got your full name now — that’ll help.” This time, he stepped to the side, motioning for her to go ahead. “Go if you want to go. Sounds like I’ve got work to do, no?”

—

If she knew how to melt people, she would have considered melting Emilio in that moment. But her powers are useless here, she realizes. They don’t exist when she’s not endangered. Van is sure that’s good, but what use was she to anyone if she couldn’t figure out how to properly use them? Doing actual research seemed to be the smart way to go about things, but she wasn’t even sure where to start. Not that any of that mattered right now, not with Emilio calling her by her full name. A sour expression peeled across her features as she kicked at a nearby rock. It bounced from the toe of her shoe and hit Emilio’s shoe, but it’d probably do no damage. 

Instead, Van decided to mock him, lowering her voice. “I thought you weren’t a child.” She felt like a child there and then. Scared, anxious, alone. She wanted to go back to Dr. Kavanagh’s apartment and watch a movie with Thea. That’s what she wanted to do. Not stand here in the middle of the street with some weird monster stuck in goo to their left. She still had no idea what it was she saw, but the fact that she had blabbed about her abilities to Emilio was now taking precedence. 

“Whatever.” It wasn’t like he was going to find anything. He’d see that she was an orphan and probably be weird about it, or maybe he wouldn’t care. He’d see that her grandmother left her, that she dropped out of college– what would he really find? “Have fun, detective.” Her voice wavered as she reached up to give him a half-hearted wave. As soon as she turned her back though, she felt the tears spring to her eyes. Who could she even talk to about this? 

[faerie-film]

the fact that shauna is the only one that actually ends up with a kid she gave birth too in the adult timeline. she gave birth once and then did it again even after losing the first. however, all the other survivors didn’t. sure, tai has sammy but it seems like he was simmone’s birth child. which doesn’t make sammy any less tai’s but she didn’t give birth to him, she didn’t go through what she watched shauna suffer through.

natalie was too detached, misty involved in her work, van with her store and illness, and lottie with her people. none of them ever had a child because of what they saw shauna go through, the pain the hysteria, the “why can’t you hear him crying?!” I feel like thats why lottie’s reaction is so soft to callie even after being shot by her, this taking off the mask and being in awe that shauna raised a kid, unlike what she could do with the first one :(

[hailthegodsong]

drummers have fuck energy do they Danny?

[rangetsuryuu]

tales of the abyss is the best tales game except for one thing. bad foils.

okay every party member has at least one foil/rivalry when it comes to the god generals, right?

In game foils as follows. In the most straight forward, one to one examples. The final battles of each God General really cements this in mind.

Luke - Asch

Tear - Legretta

Natalia - Largo

Jade - Dist

Anise - Arietta

Guy - Sync

Some of these foils aren't really as strong as others, I'd argue. And on top of that some of these characters have much stronger relationships to the final antagonists of Van and Asch, than others do.

Meanwhile, Jade also has a vague relationship to Sync and Asch, as the father of fomicry. Jade is protrayed as someone's indirectly responsible for some incredibly unethical crimes that Sync and Asch are victim to. That's one of Jade's personal dilemma's, so even if it's not acknowledged directly in the game, we can interpret this to be an indirect relationship with these characters who were directly wronged by his science. A bit of a miss to not have any interactions, but still something that we could reasonably interpret from clues even if not seen outright.

But you know what's a bigger miss? Not swapping Anise and Guy's foils.

They should have made Arietta as Guy’s primary foil and Sync as Anise’s primary foil. 

Because listen. Arietta and Guy don't have a single interaction together but they have an actual historical connection to each other?

Both had their homelands totally wiped by the same tragedy.

Arietta and Guy both respect and adore Van and sided with him. They both want vengeance against a world that's wronged them and stolen their family.

But Guy doesn't go through with it. He ends up rejecting Van and vengeance. So doesn't that put automatically pit him against Arietta that's still stuck in that old mindset? Arietta, whose whole deal is vengeance against Anise for taking her only friend in Ion? Arietta, who's stuck in this idea that a single person can be responsible for her grief, in the the same way Guy was convinced that the death of Duke Fabre's family, could bring relief to his pain?

But Guy was able to recognize this wouldn't work. Luke's death wouldn't change the past.

So isn't it possible for him to see himself in Arietta when he found out she was from Feres Isle?

Hod and it's sister isle of Feres, were both wiped out for unfathomable reasons. Guy and Arietta both left as sole survivors of their respective isles. But isn't that insane? To find a survivor of a tragedy you thought was yours alone?

Imagine then, if Guy had been able to see his own past unfolding with Arietta's revenge against another person who had nothing to do with any of the horror. If he's able to recognize that Luke wasn't a justified target of revenge, then shouldn't he see that Arietta's grudge was just as petty as his own?

But Guy's change of heart isn't actually something that's seen in game. It's just something that's revealed to you. So woudn't it be exciting to see someone who can actually be a reflection his past ideals?

So then. The final battle against Arietta could have been a brutal clash with Guy. We could have had that revelation unfold in front of us, no?

Unlike Anise's final fight with Arietta, he wouldn't have necessarily considered Arietta a lost cause. He could have seen himself in Arietta, he could have asked her to choose a different path then vengeance. He could have told her they were both the victims of a war beyond their scope. Survivors of a nation doomed by something completely beyond their control.

Guy could have revealed to her, his own history with Van and vengeance, he could have appealed to her. Maybe she could have felt that connection. She could have heard it. Listened to it, and then admitted that his sympathy had fallen flat.

"You're right. That was short-sighted of me. Killing Anise, wouldn't change anything. But killing all of you will still bring bring the vengeance and justice that my monsters deserve. And if that brings us closer to Van's revenge too... then all of you have to die."

And Guy could realize that there wasn't any talking her out of it. That she'd somehow become even more embolded in her revenge despite his plea.

In a way, Guy could understand that her vengeance was different from hers but still identical. The only difference was that Arietta didn't care about the abstraction of responsibilty. She wanted real and immediate justice for her real and immediate pain.

Hod and Feres Isle could have been left in the dust to her for all she cared. Feres Isle was nothing compared to her love for Ion and Van and her monsters and her pain for them. If that was the case, could Guy who had claimed his vengeance was for all of Hod still be in the right?

When faced with Arietta's selfish, single minded desire for vengeance, could Guy really have claimed that his own vengeance was for anything more than his own twisted idea of justice?

He could have been terrified to see that she was the worst version of himself come alive. Excuse after excuse for a reason to take out his grief on the world. He could have been disgusted with her revenge or resigned to it. Or maybe he could have embraced it. Regretted it? Wished for things to end differently?

Either way he would have been forced to kill this version of himself that he saw in her, regardless of how he felt about her.

He could have seen Arietta as someone beyond help. He could see the way that Largo and Anise still grieved for her despite everything. And he could have grieved for their shared loss. He could have grieved for the two of them who could never get any justice that could satisfy their pain.

He could have lost the one last connection to his home that he had left, and he would have had to end it himself.

What would it have been like if he had to carry that on him? Wouldn't it have been more fun for us to see that grief unfold firsthand?

Or is that kinda sadistic...?

[sictransitgloriamvndi]

[ludinusdaleth]

sometimes i check twitter after my exile from it and quite honestly i dont know if you'll find people so completely, utterly miserable who have convinced themselves that is the proper way to be. tumblr certainly has its own issues with mob mentality, and everyone at large is in a mental health collapse, but there is something genuinely scary looking from the outside in to that bird app where you can almost exclusively only converse in snark & dread and are actively shamed from leaving because you might miss a political post on there. in any community! i did not realize how miserable i was til i was extricated from it and even just peeking in i felt awful again, like losing progress. it encourages the worst of folk and folk on there believe theyre doing a necessary evil just to spite musk and it's genuinely sad. i wish i was exaggerating even a little bit.

[cheerfullycatholic]

For spooky season 🖤

Gifs/pictures under the cut

I'm so mad that this was the only gif I could find of her 😡

And I couldn't find any gifs for Jack 😔

[static-scribblez]

“A set of twins walk into an endless desert,

One believing it to be his own personally tailored hell, the other believing herself to be a victim of circumstance.

They are both correct.”

[pustoe-mesto]

movie parallels | 3/?

➛ MANNEQUIN MONSTER, Silent Hill: Revelation (2012) ➛ VINCENT SINCLAIR, House of Wax (2005)

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Sorry if it's dumb, but could I ask for Sheva, Jill, Tundra, and January meeting the reader when the reader accidentally saves them?

Not dumb <3

Sheva Alomar, Jill Valentine, Emily Berkhoff, and January Van Sant meet the reader when the reader (accidentally) saves them.

(Gender ambiguous).

Warnings: violence, injury, blood.

Masterlists here!

Sheva Alomar

They've everywhere.

You don't know what to do.

You don't know where to go. The entire population of your home city, Kijuju, seems to have been overtaken by something that's making everybody sick and... and bloodthirsty. Everywhere you turn, you find weapons being swung at you or guns pointed your way.

You aren't sure how you've managed to stay alive for this long, all you know is that you need to keep moving because if you don't, they'll catch up to you.

You force your way into a nearby building and start heading upstairs. Roofs seem to be working out for you...

Well, when scary flying creatures aren't occupying the air, anyway.

Click. Click. Click.

"Chris, I'm out of ammo!" Sheva shouts, continuing to steadily put distance between herself and the chainsaw-wielding majini intent on carving her open.

"Me too. These infected won't stop coming!"

"Damn."

Sheva needs to devise a new strategy. Chris is preoccupied with fending off the rest of the majini while she's trying to get this guy's key, but she can't risk getting close enough to take it off him while he's swinging that thing around. She'll lose fingers. Or a limb. Or worse.

Blowing open those barrels wasn't enough to take him out.

A nasty shock from that falling transformer wasn't enough to take him out.

He can't be indestructible, right? Sheva has never met a B.O.W. that she can't take down. And make stay down as well.

Is there something else around her she can use to knock this guy's lights out?

She takes a quick step backward to avoid another swing from the chainsaw, which manages to graze her necklace and sever the cord.

Think, think, think.

There's a loud cracking noise.

Suddenly, a portion of the overhang they're standing under caves in, burying the chainsaw-wielding majini beneath the rubble.

A figure falls alongside all of the material. Sheva instinctively grips the handle of her knife, thinking it's another enemy, but quickly lets go upon realizing it isn't.

"Are you alright?!" she asks, rushing to your side. Upon closer inspection, the question isn't necessary. Your left calf is clearly not straight. You tell her that it hurts.

"Okay, I've got you." Sheva grabs the key, which she can see hanging from a bit of thigh that's sticking out, and pulls one of your arms across her shoulders so that she can help you stand. "Chris, I have an injured civilian over here!" After a moment, she remembers to tag on, "I finally have the key, too."

"I'm heading over," Chris says.

You start crying, relieved to finally see another friendly face.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," Sheva tries to reassure you. "I'm going to make sure you get somewhere safe where you can be looked at."

"Thank you..." you trail off.

"Sheva. Sheva Alomar. What's your name?"

Jill Valentine

You are decidedly lost. This is your first mission with the FBC, and to say it isn't going well would be an understatement.

You and Rachel were heading to the back of the Queen Zenobia and shortly after acquiring the key to the freight lift, got attacked by some sort of slimy, faceless monster.

In your attempt to flee, you got separated from Rachel and made your way into an entirely unfamiliar area of the ship. She has the map.

You've since entirely depleted your ammunition on those nasty things, which have begun to pop up everywhere.

You're effectively screwed.

"Great, not another one..."

You stare at the shadow peeking from around a nearby corner, indicating that a B.O.W. is shambling its way closer. Maybe you can find a hiding place?

Jill just woke up. Her weapons are gone. Her partner is gone. She doesn't know where exactly she is, only that it's a room somewhere on the ship. She's locked in.

Parker is experiencing the same thing, it sounds like.

"Can you reach HQ?"Jill asks into her earpiece.

"No, comms are out, it seems," Parker replies. "We should regroup."

Jill finds herself a screwdriver and, after putting the head of an ooze hiding in the room through the TV, gets the door open.

The exact moment she steps out of the room, another ooze launches itself at her from the corridor to her right.

Jill easily ducks under its outstretched arms and steps out of its path.

It collides headfirst into the wall before straightening up and giving it a second go.

Jill slides over an ornate storage chest pushed up against the wall, leaving the ooze to run into it. From inside, she catches a muffled "gah!" that gives her pause.

Suddenly, the lid of the chest slams open, smacking the ooze's hanging head. It falls backward and Jill quickly takes the opportunity to stomp its soft skull in.

"Holy crap..." you mumble at the display, still peeking out of the chest.

"Who are you?" Jill questions.

You state your name and shakily hold up your FBC ID card. "I'm with the Federal Bioterrorism Commission. I was sent down here to investigate but I lost my partner."

"You and me both," she says. "Jill Valentine. Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. Thanks for lending me a hand."

"Yeah, uh, no problem."

"Why don't you come with me? We can search for our partners together."

If this intimidating woman wants you by her side, you certainly aren't going to turn her down. You manage a smile. "Okay. Sure."

Emily Berkhoff

It's only by sheer luck that you've managed to make it this far. For what now feels like an eternity, you've been running around, fearing for your life, and shoving yourself into every dark place you can find in an attempt to avoid the monsters.

It's almost dawn. You thought they may have finally grown tired of decimating the village when things got quiet a few hours ago, but since those black roots began to erupt from the ground, they've started returning in packs.

You decide to change your hiding spot again and find yourself in someone's barn. As you start poking around, you realize you have company. It's quite possibly the largest pig you've ever seen, and it does not take kindly to your presence.

You flee out the side of the building with the animal hot on your heels.

Emily, moving in on Miranda with the rest of the Hound Wolf Squad on Captain Redfield's orders, is not too far away. She's mowing down B.O.W. after B.O.W.

You make a beeline for a tree and quickly scramble up the trunk. The pig gives up, but you don't. You keep climbing.

Emily pauses to reload her gun.

A voice speaks into her earpiece with urgency. "Tundra, watch your six!"

She's still in the process of loading a new clip when she whips around, coming face to face with a hairy B.O.W. lunging right at her.

There's a loud crack.

A rather large branch, with you still clinging onto it, comes crashing down, stopping the beast short. The landing isn't particularly pleasant, and you don't even realize what you've just done. You groan, then jolt when a bit of blood splatters onto you.

With the B.O.W. neutralized, Emily seizes you by your coat and starts dragging you over to cover. "Alpha, I have a survivor over here!"

You've never seen anything like the goggles Emily has on, and while you're still dazed, all those black lenses look like bug eyes. You begin to flail about, thinking that a new monster has found you.

"Hey, I need you to calm down."

You do not. You pry at her hands, but her grip is too strong for you to break. When she tries to check you over, you push against her tactical vest and attempt to keep her away.

"I'm just trying to help you, alright?" Finally, she flips up her goggles and pulls down her face covering. Slowly, you begin to process that you're looking at another human, not some creature. "That fall seemed pretty bad. Did you break anything?"

"...Uh... I-I don't think so."

"Okay. I'm going to need you to stay with me so I can get you out of here. There's a chopper that'll get you to safety."

"A what?"

"There's a vehicle that'll get you to safety," she says, helping you to your feet. "Come on. I'll protect you."

You believe her. "A-alright..."

January Van Sant

January lets out a sigh as the lights switch off yet again. Does the asshole who's putting them through this shit not know any other tactics? She's getting real tired of fumbling around in the dark.

She's just going to get the key she came in here for and get out. The sooner she gets this test over with, the sooner she can return to thinking about a way to escape this hellhole.

"Bingo." Key successfully snagged, January begins navigating her way back to the exit. She doesn't see the wires some fool left strewn across the floor because, y'know, it's pitch black. She catches herself before she can faceplant, but drops her gun and key in the process. "Aw, hell."

Suddenly, there's a series of loud bangs at the door. Seems the mastermind was kind enough to lock her inside. Whatever. Sounds like someone is already in the process of getting it open.

She crouches down and starts searching. It isn't too long before her fingers brush against the key. Now, where's her weapon? She kind of needs that.

A groan comes from somewhere nearby.

Correction: She really needs her weapon.

A zombie rounds the nearby corner, making a beeline for her.

Where is her fucking gun? It couldn't have landed that far away!

The door flies open, sandwiching the approaching zombie between it and the wall.

Light from the hallway spills into the space. January finally locates her pistol.

You land roughly on the floor, and the zombie follows suit a few seconds later.

When your gaze travels up, you find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun. "Whoa, don't shoot!"

A bullet whizzes past your shoulder and strikes the zombie crawling toward you in the forehead. It stills completely.

"Chill. You saved my skin, so I'm just returning the favor."

"Oh... I didn't even realize."

January snorts. "Yeah, I can tell." She tucks her pistol into the back of her pants and after a beat, holds out a hand to help you up. You take it. "This your first test or somethin'?"

"Second."

She looks you up and down. "Well, I usually prefer to work alone when I can, but if you want to stick with me... I guess I wouldn't mind showing you a few of the tips and tricks I've picked up to survive the waves of ass this place'll throw at you."

"Yeah... I'd like that."

"Cool. The more of us that stay alive, the better." When she leaves the room, you follow. "You can call me Jan, by the way. You got a name?"

[carolinanadeau]

Dick van Dyke and Sally Ann Howes behind the scenes of the most amazing kiss Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968).

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

١٧ وَالرُّوحُ وَالْعَرُوسُ يَقُولاَنِ: «تَعَالَ!». وَمَنْ يَسْمَعْ فَلْيَقُلْ: «تَعَالَ!». وَمَنْ يَعْطَشْ فَلْيَأْتِ. وَمَنْ يُرِدْ فَلْيَأْخُذْ مَاءَ حَيَاةٍ مَجَّانًا.

The Spirit and the bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires, take the water of life without cost. — Revelation 22:17 | Arabic Bible (Smith & Van Dyke) and New American Standard Bible (NASB) The Arabic Bible, Translated by Smith & Van Dyke (1865) is in the public domain and New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1971, 1977, 1995, 2020 by The Lockman Foundation. All rights reserved. Cross References: Isaiah 55:1; Ezekiel 47:1; John 4:10-11; Revelation 2:7; Revelation 7:17; Revelation 14:13

Read full chapter

Revelation 22:17 - Bible Verse Meaning and Commentary

[poligraf]

Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.

— Ludwig van Beethoven

[brw]

al ewing cannot write janet van dyne im gonna be honest. three issues into this mini and it still doesn't sound like janet at all. the fact that this is supposed to be 616 is baffling this should have been an au because that would at least explain the undeveloped and uncharacteristic inner voice he has for janet, but it being 616 makes me feel like he just doesn't actually have a very good grasp on who she is and what her personality is. to be fair the sterile nature of the art and colouring doesn't help having janet feel like the wonderful winsome wasp but it is really standing out that he is not a good janet writer and it really makes you question why he's writing a second mini where she's the main character (allegedly) when there are clearly core aspects of her that he doesn't understand.

[static-scribblez]

Yes, I know I’ve already made it abundantly clear that I liked chapter 3

No, I will not shut the fuck up about it. Ever.

[satan-wishes-he-was-me]

look i am thriving with all this wesper fluff like i love it but i cannot w a i t for the Angst