#wasted potential in GENERAL is! AGGRAVATING!!

[jrueships]

is that tags post about zach wilson or joe burrow I can't tell 😭

any! and all of them !

[universitypenguin]

Chapter XIV

Summary: Lloyd sets his sights on orchestrating Holbrook’s downfall and uses skills from his former life to serve up his own brand of justice. Meanwhile, Princess interviews a witness who casts doubt on key information in the case. 

Masterlist

Word Count: 7,352

Warnings: Explicit discussion of murder and serial abductions. Mention of extortion, police corruption, drugs, and kidnapping. Spy/intelligence agency themes, general violence depiction of criminal behavior. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors. 

Chapter XIV

Lloyd scowled at the muddy road as he navigated around the section that had been washed out by last night’s thunderstorm. The damage to the ranch’s main road aggravated his simmering frustration. He would need to order a truckload of gravel first thing on Monday. 

He’d left the house at dawn and spent the day running around like a chicken with its head cut off, searching for Elliot. As light faded into the western sky, he had nothing to show for the effort. Every potential hiding spot he’d searched turned up empty. He’d spent the morning checking abandoned hunting cabins and old flop houses he remembered druggies frequenting. After lunch he expanded his search radius to the forest service cabins up in the Sawtooth mountains, then hunting blinds, and remote campgrounds. 

In the evening, he’d driven out to Redfish Lake, apprehension growing with each mile, and searched the boat shed. It was empty. The only residents he’d found were of the eight legged variety. After closing up the shed, he’d surveyed the lake’s perimeter, visiting the remote places with heavy foliage that could disguise the activity associated with disposing of a body. None of them appeared disturbed. Overall, the day had been a waste. 

The weight of failure settled over him as his eyes lit on an unfamiliar sight ahead. 

A strange pickup truck was parked in front of the ranch house. Lloyd’s gut tightened. He jerked the wheel and pulled off into the cover of a grove of trees. Holbrook wouldn’t drive the beat up ‘97 Ford parked in the yard if his life depended on it, but it would be just like him to send someone else to do his dirty work. Concealing his vehicle in the trees, Lloyd reached behind the seat for the PTR-91 rifle he’d stashed there and slung it over his shoulder. He secured it to his back and checked his ankle holster for Joe’s Sig Sauer. In the shoulder holster he wore a Glock17 - his weapon of choice in his previous life. 

The weight rested comfortably in his palm as he snuck through the trees and across the lawn. He kept his finger wrapped around the trigger guard, and the weapon hidden behind his thigh, as he climbed the steps to the porch. Every creak of the wood under his boots felt magnified as he approached the door. He scanned the shadows along the edge of the porch, searching for signs of movement. The front door was unlocked, and the knob turned easily. 

The scent of fresh coffee surprised him. Lloyd stepped inside, gun raised and took measured steps as he swept the living room. His guest hadn’t turned the lights on. He glanced around, seeking signs of the intruder, and spun to the kitchen. The brightness from the picture window stung his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment. When they refocused, his heart skipped a beat. 

Elliot Hansen sat at the kitchen table. He was slouched over a mug of coffee, which if the dark rings under his eyes were anything to go by, he desperately needed. 

“Lloyd. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

The tension drained away. He lowered the gun and studied his cousin for a moment before turning back to shut the front door. Lloyd laid the Glock on the table and sat down across from Elliot. A dozen questions filled his mind, but he hesitated to ask them. Elliot didn’t fill the silence. He just took a long drink from his coffee, looking ready to fall asleep at any moment. 

“Elliot?” Lloyd found his voice unexpectedly soft as relief shifted to concern. “What happened? Why did you come here?” 

“I need your help.” 

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

You picked your way through the crowd of shoppers, scanning ahead. The entrance to Zach’s office was between a hand-rolled ice cream shop and a Kate Spade store. If you weren’t paying attention, the discreetly placed entry was easy to miss. It was painted the same color as the wall and served as access to the outlet mall’s second floor, which had been converted to office space during the Great Recession. You found the door and unlocked it with the code he’d sent. 

The curving marble stairs led to a wide corridor brightened by tasteful chandeliers and intermittent skylights that invited in the natural light. In sharp contrast to the busy mall, this level was quiet. At the end of the hall you reached his office, pressed the button, and waited for the chime that announced the door had been unlocked. 

Zach was in his office with his feet propped up on his desk. The soles of his moc-toe Carhartt boots were so worn that you could hardly make out the original tread pattern. The deep worry lines in his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes immediately caught your attention. Before you could ask, his expression shifted into a smirk. 

“Morning, Princess. What brings you in so early on this lovely Saturday?” 

“Ha ha. You called me.” 

“And was shocked when you picked up the phone. I was going to leave a voicemail.” 

“I got up early to meal prep, then remembered Lloyd’s fridge is fully stocked.”

Zach made a face. “Be careful in there, he eats weird stuff.” 

“I can’t take that warning seriously from a man who ate fried rattlesnake and liked it.” 

“A man has to draw the line somewhere and I draw mine at blood pudding.” 

“Do I want to know?”

“If it looks like sausage and it’s in his fridge, don’t touch it.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. Now, why am I here?”

“With Lloyd in Idaho, we don’t have a Mandarin translator, so I called in a favor from an ex-teammate. Roth has cleared him to work on the case.” 

“What are we doing that requires a translator?” 

“An interview. I got in touch with the archivist in Julia’s home town. He asked to meet after work, so you have an hour to prepare.” 

You took the overflowing file he extended. 

“When did you put all this together?”

“Yesterday and last night.” 

“Have you slept?”

“No, which is why you’re doing the interview. I’m heading home to crash once your translator gets here. He’s apparently running late.”

“It’s Saturday, no one’s late on Saturday,” you said. 

“I like the way you think.” 

A deep voice behind you made you jump. You dropped the file and whirled, catching your heel on the threshold, and falling with an undignified squeak. A pair of strong arms stopped you from hitting the ground and pulled you upright. Gasping, you braced a hand on your rescuer’s shoulder and turned ninety degrees to look at him. He had dark brown hair and a short, trim beard that emphasized his high cheekbones. His eyes, an unusual blend of blue and green, were crinkled with amusement. A full, expressive mouth was drawn into a crooked half smile at your expense. 

“Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

The newcomers’ accent was crisper than Zach’s drawl, but not as familiar. 

You noticed he dropped the ‘r’ in darling, turning it into ‘dah-ling.’ Immediately, your mind went to New England, but the way he rolled his vowels was distinctly Southern. The vestiges of a southern accent, perhaps? 

“I’m fine. I didn’t realize you were behind me.”

“How’d you get in?” Zach asked, his voice edged with annoyance. 

“I slipped in behind her.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To see if I could.” 

He flashed a Cheshire Cat grin, full of mischief. Your disapproval melted at his boyish enjoyment. Wasn’t it better to find a weakness now, than when it really counted?

“I’m having Jake update the alarm system first thing when he’s back. Y/N, this is Marco Lattimer. He and I served together on the teams. Besides being a first class troublemaker, he’s fluent in five languages.”

Marco smirked. “Fluent in five, but I speak seven.” 

“Wow. That’s… impressive.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Marco will be your translator. I’ve already briefed him on the case.” 

Zach turned to Marco, eyes sharpening. “Lattimer, don’t even think about flirting with my colleague.”

“What if she doesn’t mind?” Marco said, winking at you. 

“She’s Lloyd’s research assistant and you’ll have to deal with him regarding the ‘what if’ part, but I’d advise against finding out. Princess, you’ve still got that taser I gave you? Marco’s harmless, but if he gets on your nerves, you have my permission to zap him.” 

You grinned at Marco’s disgruntled expression. 

“I’m sure we’ll get along fabulously,” you said. “Go home Zach, I can handle this.” 

Ten minutes later you were in the conference room with Marco, waiting for the Zoom call to start. 

“So, how’d you end up working with Lloyd?” Marco asked. 

“I interned at his law firm. He stole me from the paralegal department for my research skills.” 

“Sorry to hear that. It must be miserable to be around him all the time. I swear, he’s the reason lawyers get a bad rap. He could teach classes on how to be insufferable.” 

This was a sentiment you’d heard many times before. 

“Lloyd and I get on fine.” 

“Do you have the patience of a saint, an addiction to benzos, or just do a lot of meditation?” 

“It depends on the day. Most of the time meditation works, but a stash of benzos is always a good back up plan.” 

By the time the computer lit up with the incoming call, you and Marco were on friendly terms. He was charming, funny, and definitely flirting with you. The flirting didn’t concern you because you sensed his pursuit was less about genuine interest and more about target practice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and folded his arms in a way that showcased his biceps. You would’ve thought it was deliberate but his posture was too nonchalant to be premeditated. 

You relied on Marco to make sure Mr. Liu was comfortable and let him engage Liu in small talk for a few minutes. Working with a translator always provided a great excuse to sit back and observe your subject’s mannerisms before starting the interview. Mr. Liu appeared to be in his sixties, with horn-rimmed glasses and neatly combed hair. He wore casual office attire and judging by the fit of his light blue button down, he starched his shirts. He fit the role of village archivist like he’d been sent straight from central casting. After he was settled, you turned the discussion toward pressing matters. 

“Did you have any personal connection to Julia or her family?”

Mr. Liu spoke and Marco translated. 

“Yes, I knew her family. Her parents were lovely people. Unfortunately, they passed away some years ago.” 

“I'm sorry to hear that. Are you familiar with the circumstances of Julia's death?” 

“Yes, we were all horrified by the tragedy. It was a shocking incident that saddened the entire community. The pain it caused her family was immeasurable.” 

“The investigation into Julia's death has been reopened based on fresh evidence. DNA tests have revealed a connection between her and another woman who was murdered in a similar manner. They’re believed to be full siblings. Does Julia have an older sister?” 

Mr. Lui’s brow furrowed, and he paused for a long moment. 

“That's impossible. Julia's parents were not together for long before she was born. Her father had left the island to serve in the army and spent three years stationed in Vietnam prior to her birth. There is no chance of an older sibling.” 

His certainty piqued your attention. 

“So, her father was away during that time. Do you have any records that could shed light on Julia's family or explain the existence of an older sibling?”

The archivist’s voice was firm as he responded. Even without Marco’s translation you would’ve understood the statement as a denial. 

“I assure you, there was no other child. Julia's parents were committed to each other and their daughter. The entire village would have known if there was another pregnancy or a sibling. It's simply not possible.” 

You leaned closer, eager to see his reaction to your next words. 

“Mr. Liu, we have evidence suggesting otherwise. We need to uncover the truth about Julia's past, no matter how unsettling it might be. Can you think of any reason they kept this information hidden?”

His head lowered, shoulders rising in symmetry as he frowned. 

Liu stumbled over his words as he answered. Translating like you’d asked him to, Marco repeated his statement verbatim. 

“I… I can't imagine why or… how such information would have been concealed. Our village is tight-knit, and secrets are rare. Not rare to be kept, but rare not to be noticed and revealed. If there's something hidden, it must have been for a grave reason and Julia’s parents weren’t that sort of people.” 

“Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Liu. We appreciate your time. If anything further comes to mind, please contact us, or the Virginia State Police, directly.” 

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

Lloyd sat down across from Elliot. He didn’t totally disarm himself but rested the rifle on his thighs under the table. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Joe had a stash of drugs. A big one, according to Holbrook. He thinks I know where it is.” 

“Why?”

Elliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been taking care of the ranch. Joe paid me for it. He could have hired a cowboy, but you know Joe. He didn’t trust people he didn’t know. The work brought me up here at least a couple times each week for the past three years. What conclusion do you think Holbrook drew from that pattern?” 

“And? Was he right?” 

“No! Damn it, Lloyd! It took me years to get clean, I wasn’t moving his drugs!” 

Lloyd knew, given Elliot’s history, Joe wouldn’t have trusted him around the product. All the same, he had to ask, because one good look at his cousin tipped off Lloyd’s intuition that Elliot wasn’t as clean as he claimed to be. 

“I don’t know about a stash of drugs. Joe never told me anything about his business and I didn’t ask. We barely talked, except for emails and text messages about the ranch. He always paid me on time and I appreciated the side income. That was it. But the Sheriff won’t let this thing go.”

Twenty kilos of coke, thirty of heroin, either would be worth more than a million on the street and small enough to hide in a carry-on case. 

Lloyd sighed. “Holbrook has to go.” 

“He’s untouchable.”

“If I learned anything in the past twenty years, it’s that no one is untouchable.” 

“This isn’t London, or Berlin, or some fancy place you’ve been. It’s southeastern Idaho and Holbrook is the King.” 

Lloyd grunted. “To be clear, you’re sure this stash actually exists? It wasn’t sold off years ago?” 

“I can’t be sure, but Joe always preferred to have a backup plan.” 

That rang true. A stash of drugs would’ve served as insurance against stock market fluctuations, housing crises, or whatever rattled the economy next year. 

“Alright. Tell me about Holbrook. What’s his weak point?” 

Elliot stared. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly. Who has a grudge against him? Are there any deputies on his payroll?”

“Aside from me, I don’t know of any grudges, but his department has a suspiciously high turnover rate.” 

“Ex-associates? A disgruntled secretary? Jilted lover?” 

“Uh… would a former drug dealer count?” Elliot asked.

“Does this drug dealer have a name?” 

“Carl Shepherd. The Sheriff gave him carte blanche to deal locally, then the feds came sniffing around. Holbrook cut him loose and they’re not on good terms, but Shepherd says he has Holbrook in his pocket.” 

If the dealer had two brain cells to rub together, he’d have exhorted Holbrook for protection. Lloyd begrudgingly approved of the plan. 

“But he’s too scared of the Sheriff to flip on him.” 

“Why bite the hand that feeds you?” Lloyd murmured. 

His mind moved quickly, considering the various options available. Elliot grimaced. 

“I’m never going to get out of this mess.” 

“How do you feel about pulling a kidnapping? Say, tonight?”

“Uh… given how that worked out for you last time… lukewarm.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Carl Shepherd doesn’t have any ex-spooks overly invested in his well-being, though, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Elliot said.

“Great, then let’s get this show on the road.” 

After some persuasion, Elliot agreed to the plan. He was nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as he drove them into town in his rattle trap pickup. In contrast, Lloyd was bubbling with excitement, a feeling that intensified as they navigated the narrow lanes of the Oxiana Trailer Park. It was akin to the anticipation before a rollercoaster dropped into free fall - an exhilaration he’d missed from his old life but only realized now. Elliot parked in a shadowy spot about a hundred yards from Shepherd’s house. 

He pointed to a gray trailer with peeling paint. “That’s his place. He drives a ��68 Camaro.” 

“Nice car.” 

“Uh-huh. What’s your plan, again? You weren’t exactly clear about the how.” 

“We’ll see how it plays out. Kidnappings never quite go according to plan.” 

“You’d know.” 

Lloyd snorted. “Shut up. I’ve seen your rap sheet, you’ve got no room to talk.” 

“I was high for that stuff.”

“Yeah? Same.”

Elliot turned, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as he studied Lloyd. “Are you kidding? You were the quarterback, the golden boy. You never touched that shit.” 

“I took Adderall to cope with test anxiety and smoked weed.”

“That’s your drug of choice? Adderall? Dude, that’s pathetic.”

“It started with light stuff. Weed, then Adderall. Senior year I started popping Xanax to cope with anxiety. At first it was just when I was struggling, then it became a daily habit.” 

Elliot considered him. “I knew you were into weed, but not the rest.”

“Things didn’t get serious until I was at Harvard. I got hooked on pain pills after a football injury and when the team doctor wouldn’t give me more Vicodin, I bought Percocet on the street. From there I got into Ketamine, Valium, and Prozac. The market for drugs was thriving on campus, so I bought extras and re-sold it to the partiers. It didn’t take long before I was taking my own product.” 

“Joe would’ve skinned you alive.” 

“Beaten me to death is more likely.”

“What’d you get hooked on the most? Percocet?”

“Cocaine. I had a taste for Ecstasy, too. My main addiction was Coke, with a little Xanax in the mix. When I graduated and had the money for it, I got back on Vicodin.”

“Damn. You know what really shocks me?” Elliot asked.

“What?”

“You went for the cheap stuff. Coke? Back in the day, I could get a bag of Coke for like sixty, seventy bucks. Meth was like six times that much.” 

Lloyd chuckled. “I’d seen what meth and heroin did to a person. Cocaine felt less risky and more… fun. Until I was in prison, I didn’t think I was addicted.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I kept a lot of secrets before. Now I try not to. Also, if you think I don’t get what it’s like to have your past catch up with you, I want you to know that I do.” 

Elliot ducked his head, looking away. 

Lloyd turned back to the road. They sat in silence for the next twenty minutes while the sun dipped behind the horizon. A car pulled around the corner with no headlights on and Lloyd squinted, trying to make out the model. 

“Is that him?”

Elliot straightened up. “Yeah. That’s him.” 

They watched as Carl turned into the driveway and parked, then walked around to the trunk to unload grocery bags.

“What now?” Elliot asked.

“Wait here for thirty seconds, then go up to him. Get his attention. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Elliot nodded and wiped his palms on his jeans. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Lloyd slid out of the truck and shut the door quietly. Keeping one eye on Carl as he took in the first load of groceries, he snuck through the neighbor’s lawn and around their house. Maneuvering through a hole in the chain-link fence he crossed into Carl’s backyard and used the cover of the peeling gray trailer to mask his approach. He listened to footfalls on wooden steps, then pavement, and gauged the distance. A truck door slammed and a moment later, Elliot’s voice rang out, calling a greeting to the drug dealer.

Lloyd burst from his hiding place and ran, aiming at Carl’s back. Electricity crackled as the taser found its mark. The volts sizzled in the air as Carl convulsed, then dropped to the pavement, unconscious. 

Elliot jerked back, his face leaching of color.

“Holy shit! What voltage is that thing?!” 

Lloyd smirked. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little excitement? Help me get him in the trunk.” 

“You don’t mean…”

“Leaving his car here will arouse suspicion. If we take it, the neighbors will assume he’s out of town.” 

“Maybe we should stop adding to our rap sheets while we’re still ahead,” Elliot suggested.

“I usually agree with the principle of only committing one felony at a time, but we’re on the clock here. Grab his feet, would you?”

Elliot groaned, but obliged, taking Carl’s feet while Lloyd guided his upper body into the trunk. He slammed it shut and grinned at his cousin’s pale face.

“There. Felony number six, complete. Although technically, in this state kidnapping isn’t a felony until you’re a hundred feet away from the property on which the abduction occurred. So, to be precise, we’re still in the act of felony number six.” 

“You’re insane.”

Lloyd smirked. “Not according to my doctor. And given the circumstances, I think this was the most appropriate course of action we could’ve taken. Now, go on ahead of me and make sure everything is set up. I can’t speed with a body in the trunk.”

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

You sat next to Marco, looking at the murder board.

Zach had set it up in the corner of the conference room and after the interview you’d migrated over here naturally. Your chairs were adjacent, facing the bulletin board like students in a classroom. Marco had ordered coffee and a late brunch for the both of you while you explained the details of the case. 

“And they found the sister’s corpse right next to the first victim?” Marco said. 

“Yeah. It’s mind-boggling.”

He shook his head. “What’s weirder is that these two are sisters, but the rest of the girls on this board are as different as night and day. Different hair colors, ethnic backgrounds, different kinds of jobs.” 

You turned your attention to the victim’s pictures. They were organized by date of disappearance and below them was a horizontal timeline that stretched from left to right across the width of the board. There was a topographical map of the Fairfax area in the lower right corner, with colored pins making locations. 

“There’s a variety in the women, but what’s mostly consistent is the age range, the manner of disappearance, and their social status.”

Marco leaned back, hooking his left ankle over his right knee. 

“How do you investigate a case with so many missing variables?”

“You’re referring to the other six corpses?”

“The lack of them, specifically.” 

His comment tickled a thread you’d been playing with since Singapore. Rather than answering, you stood up and crossed to the bulletin board. First, you untacked the sketch on the far left of the timeline. It was of the unknown victim - Julia’s supposed sister - and then took down the photo underneath her, representing her daughter. Then from the far right of the timeline, you untacked Julia’s photo. 

You sat down next to Marco and faced the board again.

“What about now? Does that make more sense?” 

His mouth tilted in a half smile. “I’m not the investigator here. How would I know?”

“Technically, Lloyd and Zach are the investigators and I’m their errand girl. You’re a fresh set of eyes. I’ve been trying to figure out how removing the sisters and the little girl changes things.” 

“Do you see a pattern here?” Marco said. 

“Maybe. If Lloyd were here, I’d bounce this off of him, but look…” 

You laid the photos you’d removed on the table and returned to the board, pointing to the photo of the first woman to go missing.

“The first victim, Stacey Moore was twenty-six. She worked at an indie publishing house in D.C. and had just graduated from G.W with her master’s. She disappeared in June of 1999.” 

You pointed to the next photo. 

“Maya Sutton. Twenty-four. Tax associate at PriceWaterhouseCoopers, recently hired off an internship program, master’s degree in accounting from William & Mary. Disappeared in August of 1999.” 

Marco listened as you ran down the list of victims, and reported their ages, jobs, and degrees. He was nodding along by the time you reached the last photo.

“The women were close in age. Twenty-three to twenty-seven, born and raised in the U.S. and focused on their careers. They were successful despite being young, and except for Lucy Lund, they all came from upper middle class backgrounds.”

“They’re all born in eastern Virginia, too,” Marco said.

You checked the notes and sure enough, all the victims had been born along the Virginia coast. The pattern was even closer than you’d realized. 

“Good catch.” 

You rehung the photos of Julia, her sister, and the niece, off to the side, separate from the serial killer victims. 

“They found these victims. That doesn’t feel like an accident. If he made six women disappear without a trace, why leave three corpses in the same spot? And Julia’s body wasn’t even properly disposed of.”

“That deviates significantly from the pattern,” Marco said. 

“And with the timeline laid out like this, it looks like Julia’s abduction occurs too early in the year. He’d abducted someone during the last week of May before, but Julia disappeared in April, which is a month before he usually began taking victims. There’s also a stopping period between the 1999 victims and the 2000 cases. In 1999 the last victim disappeared on September 3rd. In 2000 the last victim was August 15th.” 

“Seasonal employees might be a good suspect pool to explore.”

“Removing the discovered bodies gives us a pattern. But when you add these three cases, it muddies the waters. I think we’re looking at two different crimes. A serial killer and… this mess with Julia, whatever it is.” 

Marco crossed his arms, studying the altered layout of the board.

“You’re right. Julia really doesn’t fit his victim type.”

“She was too tall, not from the United States - and not from Virginia. She didn’t have a college degree, let alone a graduate degree, and didn’t work outside the home. The serial killer’s victims were ambitious, professional women. They were all under five foot five and didn’t weigh more than a hundred and sixty pounds, but none of them were exceptionally thin. The abductor seemed to pursue women of average build.”

“Julia was five-nine and weighed about one-thirty,” Marco said. 

“Going off victim type, that made her not only too tall, but too thin.” 

“What’s hard to understand is that he’d suddenly screw up a body dump after getting it right so many times. For his first victim, sure. He’s inexperienced. But doing it again with Julia, several years later… the only way it makes sense is if he put the sisters together.” 

Goosebumps raised on your arms. If he put the sisters together…

What if the sisters’ deaths were connected? Maybe even to the serial killer, but not as victims who he’d hunted. Had they gotten in the way? Or was there something else, completely unrelated to the disappearances, going on at the same time? Was that possible in a town as small as Harmony?

“What are you thinking?” Marco asked.

“I think it’s two different cases. Everyone was waiting for the pattern from ‘99 and 2000 to re-emerge. They were mentally preparing for the next victim and Julia was the next woman to disappear. In a small town riddled with disappearing women, why wouldn’t they think she was part of the spree?”

“That’s logical, but the way you’ve explained it makes better sense. What about the sister and the niece? They’re an even bigger deviation from pattern than Julia. How can they be identified when there’s nothing to go on?” 

“I’ll figure out something,” you said. “Lloyd won’t be back until Tuesday, so I’ve got time.” 

 “Where is he?” Marco asked. 

You noted his demeanor changed when Lloyd’s name came up. His arms crossed, creating a subtle barrier between you, and the paper cup in his hand crumpled in his grip. His attention was riveted on you, belying the casual tone he’d spoken in. 

“He’s out west, taking care of family matters.”

“Huh. So, Lloyd didn’t hatch from an egg?”

“You worked with him before, you’d probably know more than me.”

The comment slipped out, not entirely by accident. Meeting people who’d known Lloyd in the past alway stirred your curiosity. Lloyd’s life had been a series of transformations: a gifted law student turned cold-blooded intelligence officer, then a disgraced ex-spy who’d become a ruthless mercenary and landed himself in prison. You’d only known Lloyd after his metamorphosis into a law-abiding citizen. Discovering the previous version that had existed before was a constant source of entertainment. Gruesome entertainment, perhaps, but you couldn’t check your impulse to fish for information whenever the chance presented itself. 

“Do you enjoy working with Lloyd?” 

Marco’s question took you off guard. 

“Yes. He was a bit of a pill at first, but then I discovered he could be charming when he wanted to be. After that, I made sure he had reasons to be charming.”

“What makes him want to be charming?”

“Rewards. Lloyd responds best to positive reinforcement. It works wonders.” 

“Really?” 

“He’s like a border collie. If you don’t keep him occupied and engaged, he’ll start chasing squirrels and digging up the yard.”

Marco chuckled. You pressed him harder.

“What was working with Lloyd like for you?”

He pursed his lips. “I knew him when he was on Zach’s team. They were doing God-knows-what in the same area where I was deployed. He was obnoxious.” 

His fingers tightened on the paper cup, crushing it nearly in half, unaware of the action. 

“Yeah. But Special Forces attracts a lot of obnoxious people.” 

His lips twitched, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. 

“One day Lloyd showed up with extras. Tag-a-longs from Langley, I think. They assigned my team as their support crew. We were waiting at a checkpoint to help them exfiltrate, which should have been simple, but things went sideways and we had to extract them. Everyone was accounted for - except Lloyd’s extras.” 

You watched Marco’s lips compress. His shoulders bunched and you read anger in the lines of his body and the set of his jaw. He’d crumpled the coffee cup flat. Silence stretched. You waited, knowing he’d eventually fill the silence. 

Marco’s eyes flickered, shifting to internal focus. You could tell he was picking his words carefully. 

“The most dangerous predators wear the most charming masks. Lloyd… Lloyd is a viper in Gucci loafers. He takes pleasure in manipulating people, especially emotionally. Lloyd comes across brash, but underneath it he’s malicious, with a ruthless streak ten miles wide. I’ve seen it in action. Trust me, his blood runs cold.”

You were silent, thinking of Lloyd’s revelations in Qatar. He’d cultivated a certain image in the intelligence community, and clearly, Marco had experienced it. Silence hung over the room as he continued to weigh his words. 

“We were behind enemy lines at that point, but I offered to turn back and try to save the tag-a-longs. Lloyd laughed. Straight up laughed, and told me everything had gone according to plan. The agents had been on a one way trip from the start and he’d risked the whole team’s lives to dispose of them.” 

“What did you do?”

His eyes flashed. 

“I went back for them. One was alive. They’d slit the other’s throat. I reported the incident to command and got transferred to a different continent the next day. Later I found out the guy I’d saved died in the hospital because of a medication error.” 

You nodded, studying his reactions. They were full of anger and distaste. Marco’s story was authentic and his emotions genuine. Defending Lloyd, explaining that he’d changed, wouldn’t help Marco. He’d known a different person than you did. That version of Lloyd had done terrible things without remorse and he was still capable of it, when pushed. 

“Lloyd is charming, but be careful. He’s not trustworthy.” 

“I appreciate the warning, and I’m familiar with his background. He’s changed a lot since prison. There are still rough edges, and the ruthless streak is still there, but the malice isn’t.” 

Marco raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting conclusion.”

“If you want to say ‘bullshit,’ just say it. There’s no need to take that tone.” 

“Noted. Why don’t we find something more pleasant to talk about than Lloyd? Say, over coffee? Or better yet, dinner?” 

You wanted to accept, so you could find out more about Lloyd, but the invitation was clearly romantic. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m seeing someone right now. Maybe another time.”

His lips curled into a rueful smile. Before he could speak, there was a loud buzz. Your heads turned toward the front door in unison.

“Where’s the video feed?” Marco asked.

“I think there’s one at the front desk.”

The buzzer sounded again. Who would visit Zach’s office on a Saturday? Anyone who had business being here on the weekend would’ve had a key. With Marco on your heels, you headed for the lobby. Behind the receptionist’s desk, you found a monitor discreetly mounted into the wall, displaying the feed from the hall. A man in a shirt and tie, with a gun holstered on his right hip, stood outside. 

He looked into the camera and you recognized Detective Roth. 

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

Carl Shepherd woke up with a headache. A second later, he realized someone had tied him to a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. There was duct tape securing the cuffs to prevent him from picking them. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Well, well, look who’s awake. Had a good nap, Sleeping Beauty?” 

His head swung, searching the darkness for the owner of the voice. A switch clicked and Carl hissed, whipping his head away from the 10,000 lumen work lamps that burned his eyes. His head throbbed in protest at the dazzling light and the quick movement. 

“Fuck! What are you doing? Are you trying to blind me?!” 

The beams from the industrial lamps were like looking at the sun. He squinted out of the corner of his right eye, trying to see his kidnapper. 

“You can’t do this! I’m untouchable, damn it! I make one call to Sheriff Holbrook and you’re running for the rest of your lives. What kind of psycho are you?!” 

“We’re the Canadians,” the voice said. “We’re here for a stockpile of drugs a former business associate of ours misplaced. Rumor has it you’d know something about it.”

He laughed. “Canadians? You don’t scare me.”

“I don’t need to scare you, but what should scare you is suffocation. Because guess where we are?”

Carl looked around, noticing the corrugated walls of the room.

“A shipping container.” 

“Bingo. We seal the vents and shut the door and you’re dead. It’s not the lack of oxygen that kills you, it’s the carbon dioxide poisoning from your own exhalations. First, you get a headache, then nausea sets in and your heart rate spikes. You pant for breath, but you can’t get any, so you start to feel dizzy. Then vomiting, seizures, and finally you pass out before officially suffocating to death.” 

Carl considered the threat. His kidnapper took this pause as defiance.

“I’ve run the numbers and given the volume of this container, the ratio of oxygen, the probable rate of consumption, and other variables, suffocation should take about 22 hours. Horrible way to go, trust me. I’ve seen it before.”

He could easily imagine the owner of the voice hovering in the shadows, wearing an oxygen mask as he watched his victim suffer. A long silence lingered as he waited for the kidnapper to continue.

“Alright, suffocation it is…” 

Clothing rustled and the lights illuminated the outline of a man as he stood from a chair on the other side of the work lamps.

“Hey! Wait, don’t!”

“You want to talk?” the kidnapper asked.

“I can’t give you the drugs. You’re looking for Joe Hansen’s stash, right? I don’t have them, it was Deputy Russell who took them!”  

- - - - - 

Elliot leaned against the Camaro, staring straight ahead. 

“We’re screwed. We’re totally screwed.”

Lloyd resisted the urge to point out that Elliot was screwed, not him. If push came to shove he’d kill Holbrook and slip out of town. That wasn’t something his cousin was hardened enough to consider. At the moment taking out the Sheriff might not be the worst plan. Elliot could serve as his alibi. After seeing how he’d handled the kidnapping, it was obvious he’d be a terrible accomplice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t set Lloyd up for an acquittal based on reasonable doubt. 

“Holbrook will never believe his right-hand man crossed him,” Elliot said. 

“Deputy Russell is his second?”

“Yeah. Luke Russell.”

“Huh. I think I had a run in with Deputy Luke the other day. Is he partial to a pump-action rifle?”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “That’s him. How’s you get away?”

“Charm, wit, and of course, I’m too pretty to kill,” Lloyd said, and winked. “Listen, this is just a setback. We can work with this. The plan is the same as before - we get the Sheriff busted. Once he’s locked up, you’re in the clear.”

“How? We don’t have any drugs!” 

“Tell me about Deputy Russell.” 

“He’s careful. Paranoid. Kind of off-kilter, socially. When he tries to cover it up, he comes across as creepy. He’s almost as crazy as the Sheriff.” 

Lloyd considered the odds that Holbrook had found another psychopath to partner with. Someone less polished than him, so he’d never have to worry about competition for his elected position. Birds of a feather flocked together, especially the unstable personalities with criminal tendencies, like Joe and Holbrook. They had remained allies for fifteen years before their falling out. Perhaps history wasn’t exactly repeating itself here, but it seemed to rhyme. 

Joe and the Sheriff had gone from partners to enemies. Now, Holbrook and Russell’s alliance was approaching the same crossroads, and Elliot was caught in the middle. 

“He wouldn’t move the drugs? Or check on them?” 

“No,” Elliot said. “If he had the slightest idea we knew about the stash he’d destroy it. Russell is paranoid, in capital letters.” 

“Well, we can’t have that,” Lloyd mused. “Would he sell them?” 

Elliot frowned and scratched his jaw. “Maybe. He’s in this for the money and a quick sale would cover his tracks.”

“Alright,” Lloyd said. “Here’s the new plan.” 

- - - - - 

Carl watched the two men enter the shipping container. His eyes had adjusted to the brightness, but he still couldn’t see anything but shadows past the work lamps. To his surprise, the kidnapper in charge stepped into the light. Dread curled in Carl’s stomach. If he was seeing his kidnapper’s face, that only meant one thing.

“What? What do you want from me?”

“Call Deputy Russell and tell him you found a buyer for the drugs.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll kill me!” 

The mustached kidnapper sneered. He reached behind his back and pulled out a Glock. 

“Listen up, Carl. You have two choices. Get us a meeting with Russell, or say goodbye to your kneecaps.” 

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

Detective Roth hadn’t spoken for twenty minutes. He sat with his arms crossed in the waiting room, opposite from you and Marco. The clock ticked loudly, counting off the seconds as you waited for Zach. 

Marco shifted beside you, his leather jacket creaking. He’d refused to leave you alone with Roth. The protectiveness amused you, since you had no qualms about being alone with the detective, but Marco had taken an instant dislike to the man. It didn’t help that Roth had refused to explain the nature of his visit. He’d breezed in like he owned the place and immediately demanded you round up Zach, Bishop, and Lloyd. 

Your phone vibrated with a text from Zach.

On my way up. 

A moment later, the door opened, and Bishop entered, followed by Zach. 

You did a double take at the sight of Bishop’s outfit. He wore khaki slacks and a novelty golf shirt that made the patterns in Lloyd’s closet look tame. His black polo was decorated in neon-sign print. Hot pink flamingos, lime green palm leaves, turquoise margarita glasses, magenta watermelon slices, and chartreuse pineapples covered the material.

For a man who wore nothing but white or blue shirts and neutral ties to the office, he apparently swung to the opposite end of the spectrum on the weekend. Next time you needed a gift for Lloyd you’d ask Bishop where he bought his golf shirts. 

Zach pinned the detective with hard eyes.

“What brings you here, uninvited, on a Saturday afternoon, Roth?” 

“Which one of you contacted the press?”

“Excuse me?” Zach said, tilting his head. 

“Who leaked evidence to the media? If you speak up now, the punishment won’t be as bad. I’d recommend doing so quickly, because I’d rather not get angrier than I already am.”

“None of us would do that,” Bishop said. 

Roth grunted. “What about Lloyd Hansen? Why isn’t he here?”

You answered. “His father died. He���s in Idaho taking care of family matters.” 

You tried to speak neutrally, but despite your best efforts, anger sizzled in the words.

“The Rolling Stone ran a cover story on the unidentified victims of Shun Nguyen today. The highlight of the piece was that the recently discovered victim was found by the Xiarong crime scene, where she’d been lying undiscovered for the past twenty years.” 

He paused, letting the statement sink in, then continued.

“A podcaster was waiting for me in the parking lot this morning. Guess what he wanted? He wanted to know how we could miss a second victim only a few hundred feet away from the first. That was a fun question to field at six a.m.” 

Zach’s lips compressed and goosebumps rose on your arms as the shock settled in. 

“Do you have any idea how much harder my job just got?” Roth demanded. 

“Our job,” Zach said. 

The detective snorted. “Given the magnifying glass we’re about to be put under, go ahead. Call it your case, please. It’ll keep a few reporters off my back while they chase you around.” 

Zack and Bishop exchanged a glance. You wondered if you should mention what you’d learned from Mr. Liu this morning. Questioning the DNA test when Roth was already upset didn’t feel too smart, but you didn’t want him to think you were hiding information. One look at his tight-lipped expression decided your course of action. 

“We weren’t the ones who contacted the media,” you said.

“We’ve had limited hands on this case in the department and only a few people knew the details published today. I trust all of those people. By default, that puts you all at the top of my suspect list.” 

Roth looked around, studying each face. 

“The only explanation is that someone in this room compromised the investigation. You betrayed your responsibility, mishandled classified information, and screwed me over. As of right now our cooperation is over. Until you hear differently, stay the hell away from my department.”  

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

Next - Chapter XV

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

Masterlist

Tag List

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[slocumjoe]

Not to harken back to the Nick Valentine quest post but one point you made really struck home for me - that Eddie was effectively already dead. It made the whole quest feel dead as well. Whats the point? I understand the human aspect, still wanting someone dead out of rage even if theyre no longer doing harm, but, come on, the name of the series is fallout. The ongoing violent aftermath of tragedy, how the harm and damage lingers like (or sometimes literally being) radiation. How much more powerful a quest would it have been if Nick had thought there was no point to it at all - that Eddie was dead and the past was burried but part of him just couldnt let go, and would you mind indulging an old private dick in a dusty old mystery? And THEN they find out that Eddie (or his legacy or his wealth or weapons being passed on to the next asshole or something) WAS doing active harm to people 200 years later, and that examining the past wasnt pointless because the past shaped their future and we can never move on without holding ourselves accountable for it. I just. Idk. Theres a lot of potential all of it wasted

i've had this one in my inbox for so long and never really found the words to respond to it, but I'm posting it now as a followup to my last post because this is pretty much my problem with that quest in general. So much of fo4 is riffing on the past and history and its really aggravating once you notice how much of it is just "this thing happened x amount of years ago, and I'm real sad about it"

[demonfox38]

Post Game Evaluation - Final Fantasy V (GBA)

In questions that'll make a Millenial sweat.

This year has ended up being demanding in terms of travel. I'd like to say that it was all for positive reasons, but it's hard to frame my maternal grandmother's sudden health decline and relocation into an assisted living facility as positive. (At least she's alive and remembers my name? That's something.) To go full teal deer, I've been spending a lot of weekends away from my house. And, hell. What good are portable video games if not keeping me sane and conscious during frantic times?

This isn't the first time I've played through "Final Fantasy V." My previous completion was done while I was on a Christmas break in college, which…man, don't make me think about how long ago that was. Point being, I was a little foggy on the game and my reception of it. So, I wanted a refresh.

It's amazing what your mind decides to retain. Or, many times, doesn't.

"Final Fantasy V" is structurally similar to the first and third "Final Fantasy" games. Protect elementally based crystals, fight dudes in obnoxiously luxuriant armor, assign jobs to characters for the task. Unfortunately, the main cast for this game either has the worst sense of timing or is completely inept (your choice!), as all of the crystals they aim to protect get obliterated into dozens of pieces. Like, all of them, every time. And then they go to another world, upon which they actively get the previous generation of heroes all killed off for good. And then the worlds get "Tales of Symphonia"-style smooshed back together, and that somehow is also a bad deal because hell is apparently a vacuum, and it's going to suck everyone into it if your party doesn't stop sucking for 5 minutes!

Look, these people eventually get things cleaned up. Just don't trust any of them with your vehicles, pets, or house plants. All will be toast in 30 minutes.

I might give this cast some shit for being master-class failures, but honestly, this isn't the worst party I've had to deal with. It is neat that the end assembly is three chicks to one dude. The job system also lets you play fast and loose with everyone's skillset, so it's not like anyone is hard-locked into one role. (I guess you can lean into what they are naturally good at, but it doesn't hurt for everybody to have six levels in healing magic, either.) The configuration doesn't feel like some convenient anime harem pervert set-up, either. It shouldn't matter to me who has what gender or what role, but in a series that has a bad habit of defaulting certain characters into certain roles based on gender (or even going completely mono-gender, which blegh), it's nice that you can go, "Nah, fuck that. These princesses are now all samurai. Start dancing, salsa boy!"

With as much diversity as you can get with the Job system, you can also easily end up making yourself sick by grinding too much. I've got the "get everyone's numbers maxed out" mind goblin, to borrow a term from Pat Boivin. It's not enough to have one person master healing magic; everyone's gotta be maxed out on that. It doesn't matter that I might not really need the Monk class's maximum skill. I need all Jobs maxed out for everybody. Considering the game gives you three bonus jobs and an extra post-game job, this can make grinding insufferable. Time-consuming.

I mean, I had the time to waste, considering how often I was away from home. But, still. If grinding wasn't aggravating, then it was lulling me to sleep. (It's amazing when you get older and find out that putting your legs up for 5 minutes will knock your ass out.)

Unlocking all of the options for a job can be a pain in the ass, too. Are you good at finding hidden pianos? What about random monsters hiding out in arbitrary locations? Do you have a spreadsheet open for all of the potential item combinations you can make with the Chemist class? Is your Blue Mage of the right level to learn Level 5 Go Fuck Yourself? Long story short—trying to get a perfect game file is a fool's errand. Getting it done right will require cross-referencing several guides and maps to find every last little nugget, and even then, you may get screwed out based on how much knowledge is available on the specific variant of the game you are playing. And let's be honest—are you really going to use that Bard class outside of one or two dungeons? Are you really going to die if you don't get Catoblepas? Hell, is that even its name, in the version you are using? Who gives a shit if you get that Brave Knife, anyway? It's not like you don't have at least twelve other weapons to use…

Further complicating the situation is "Final Fantasy V"'s release history. This game falls into the same category as titles like "Tales of Phantasia" or "Seiken Densetsu 3" when it comes to its history in the US. I.E.—there was a significant gap in time where the game was unavailable to general audiences, so fan translators stepped in. When an actual release came out of the game's publishers, the previous verbiage had been so entrenched that trying to explain what was what would come with whiplash and potential rejection from previous players.

Now, I say all of this not to say that the translation is bad. From my POV, it's fine! Krile's a weird name, but whatever! At least Bartz isn't Butz here. The text is competent. What I am saying is that trying to get help on the 2005 GameBoy Advance variant or the 1999 Playstation release or anything made post-2010 does require some backwards translating to understand the ancient texts on GameFAQs and/or fan-managed websites. Don't kick yourself when you miss something. Researching this game is just that much of a shitshow.

Can you imagine waiting almost 6 years now-a-days for a game to get properly localized? I think people would pee their pants if they didn't get an English-translated copy within 6 minutes of the game's release! I'll stick to my guns when I say my favorite games came out between 1986 and 2006. But, damned if I don't appreciate translations just being there for my spoiled English-speaking face. I might play a Pokémon game in Spanish or plow through "Lagrange Point" with the help of a Google Translate-garbled document and a Japanese dictionary, but it's nice when I don't have to take such extreme measures.

I know playing Italian translated "Castlevania" games is a one-way ticket to flunking a language exam. But, I wonder if playing "Lupin the Third" games in Italian might actually be helpful…

In more positive notes, I really like the sprite and menu artwork for the GBA release. It's normalized with the rest of the games that Square Enix put out at the tail-end of the GBA's life cycle, so some of the landscapes and menu pieces have been touched up to try and match the quality of "Final Fantasy VI." The job spritework has always been really cool. It adds personality to each character's interpretation of the job's uniform, like giving cat ears to the White Mage role for Krile or showcasing different dancing style for the Dancer job. Hell, it's funny that the Mimic job is just their normal clothing with a cape thrown on. That sort of design feels like the kind of detail that would have some kind of work-around in a modern adaptation just so the player could keep the clothes they like. I'm thinking like "Monster Hunter Rise" and being able to craft outfits to look like other outfits. That would be perfect!

Having said that—I could have done without the Amano portrait work by the character's dialogue as seen in the GBA version. Like, there was always a divide between character design in and out of the game, but boy, does it stick out like a sickly sore thumb here. Way too pale and dead compared to the otherwise lively color palette. I would enjoy playing a fully Amano-stylized game (although, I suppose the FFIV remake is probably that, weird character proportions aside.) As it is, it's weird to see his work alongside what others decided to roll with.

I wish I could offer more opinions on the music, but since I was playing around other people, I was keeping my volume off as much as possible. That bridge fight theme versus Gilgamesh does kick ass, though. Other than that? I was more going, "Hey, wait. I think I recognize this from a Vaporwave song" more than anything.

I'm surprised with what details stuck with me after two playthroughs a decade apart. I think it would be pretty hard to forget Galuf and all of the shit he goes through. But, a lot of Faris' story stuck with me, too. When I was wrapping up prep-work for the rush through the final dungeon, I remembered getting her dragon as a summon, but weirdly enough, not getting her sister's wind drake. I wonder if I had skipped that in the past. I don't think its set pieces are anywhere near as memorable as those from "Final Fantasy VI", but there are little memorable chunks here and there.

Also—as goofy as the whole "the antagonist is an evil tree" idea can be, I do like the concept. Considering how many Japanese games pull in the Shinto principle of holy trees for their pivotal plot points, it is funny to see a game go "But what if it's a bastard tree, though?" What is it, like, this game, "Kuon," and a dozen Kirby games? It feels like it should be more of a thing. I just wish that you got to see more "evil tree" and less "dude in armor" for him, though. I mean, we already had FF1's Garland and FF4's Golbez. Imagine if we had something a bit more hinting into Exdeath's tree nature. Like, chunks of armor breaking off, revealing coarse bark and branches pushing their way through. Basically, like if we met a fucked-up Groot that was going around wearing Darth Vader's suit after it had went through a trash compactor. "Resident Evil 4"'s Armaduras, but with vegetation!

Is this the best "Final Fantasy" game I've played? No. I'd put it in the top quarter of "Final Fantasy" games that I would be likely to replay, but I wouldn't say it's my favorite. It's just kinda there. It's 1 and 3 with a plot that gets out of control. But, I didn't hate the cast, as unfortunate as they were. With my propensity towards finding "Final Fantasy" protagonists obnoxious, that alone may be worth a thousand words of praise. It can be picky and obtuse at times, but honestly, finishing the game may not require being that fickle yourself. You've just gotta ask yourself if grinding everything down to a polished sheen is really worth it.

[wordsandrobots]

OK, I have two overall things to say about Gundam SEED: Destiny (I’ve been sick, binging this nominally staved off extreme boredom; spoilers to follow).

Number 1: Arthur Trine is doing his best, damnit, and I hope he got a cup of tea and a sit down once everything was over.

Number 2: what an incredibly frustrating show.

In many ways it is leaps and bounds ahead of its predecessor, freed from literally repeating the same set-pieces of the original Gundam to tell a story that, honestly, has something approaching a meaningful point. Chairman Durandal is a compelling antagonist and the way he and Teen!Le Cookset gradually break the series’ pseudo-protagonist to their perspective is narratively interesting. The underlying message in what he does -- about how those in power pick out enemies that will best serve their ends and present themselves as the reasonable ones -- is definitely worth exploring. And the show even manages to address the Gundam-overload issues from SEED, by more clearly delineating the point of each machine and staggering them a bit more competently.

However. It inherits the problem of its length exceeding its content, leading to more stock-footage abuse and, far less forgivably, *three* clips shows, only one of which (the last, focused on Meer) has any actual merit. It also continues SEED’s determination to screw over every single female character who isn’t Lacus. For the record, I *like* Lacus: she’s a nice execution of someone having a ‘typical’ presentation wrapped around a core of stainless steel conviction, which is something I always enjoy in fiction. However, Cagalli in particular is an utter waste of potential, not being allowed to mature, gain focus, or make a single bloody decision without Kira or Athrun’s input, to the point where it’s actively aggravating to watch.

This is where we hit the limits of the genre and demographic, of course, and once again makes me appreciate literally every female character in IBO because Gundam generally is so very *not good* at this. (Obviously G-Witch is ahead again on the score, thankfully, but IBO is probably the best-case scenario within the ‘fiction aimed at boys’ problems that plague its predecessors.)

Shinn is similarly annoying. It’s not a bad thing he’s abrasive and the endpoint was always going to be him winding up a broken, weeping wreck because he’s too stupid to recognise anything beyond his own feelings. But his trauma flashbacks hit parodic very early and he’s far too irritating to be worth sitting through his screen-time. Like Kira, only the problem is the presence of personality rather than its total fucking absence.

My biggest complaint, however, is reserved for the variety of ways SEED:Destiny buggers up its good ideas. I’d have liked it a lot more if ‘Logos’ hadn’t actually been a thing. ‘Shadowy conspiracy doing [bad thing] from the shadows in the name of profit’ is the kind of message that gets slung around a lot in real life with no justification whatsoever and it really doesn’t help counter the people who do that if you hinge your plot on ‘no the Illuminati actually do have a giant laser on the moon.’ The cleverer and more cutting twist would have been to reveal there was no actual group called Logos and while the people Durandal named might have had interests in common, he was really just lumping them together for his own convenience.

You know. As scapegoats. Like the way this goes in reality, with the matters that this show is sticking its oar in and trying to Say Something about.

But no, because once more, this is a story interested in emotional reactions and personal epiphanies over any sort of systemic question because, well . . . that’s typical, isn’t it? Frustrating but not unexpected. Eureka Seven does nearly everything SEED/SEED:Destiny attempts better and that is hardly the first case of that happening with a Gundam show. Possibly this is just galling me more than usual because there are so many [swerves around the obvious pun] traces of a more interesting story here.

Oh well. Mu steadily getting his memories back was fun and I shall be taking the final epilogue to mean he, Murrue and Andrew settled down to a life of coffee-fueled polyamory. Yzak yeeting himself on to the right side of the final battle through sheer indignation was actually kind of funny. And I will give it credit, this did feel like one of the more meaningful ‘final battles to destroy a giant super-weapon’ out of the many, many times Gundam has done that (including in SEED, for gods’ sake). If nothing else, I appreciate the chutzpah of having Durandal rock up in an off-brand Death Star, right down to a recoloured Emperor’s chair.

Whatdyouknow. I actually did have something to say about this one. I think that just leaves Victory for main series I haven’t watched (I finished G Fighter; it was joyfully ridiculous). That probably won’t be changing any time soon. Ranking wise . . . SEED:Destiny probably sits around equal with 00 for me.

[hillsofuhhtennessee]

since that “least favorite attribute about each member” questions seems to be most popular on the kiss ask game I’ll just do it on it’s own.

Paul- His screechy 80s voice just SOUNDS painful ever since the first time I heard Lick It Up. I’m not endeared to him as a person much but I detach art from artist very readily with him.

Ace- He had so much wasted potential and seems like a nightmare to work with, he’s a great example of the handful of good things and TRUCKLOAD OF AWFUL that is ADHD in adults. A part of me really aches for him because I can see myself in him (albeit on a smaller scale) but god he’s a dumpster fire, at least things didn’t end as badly as they could have.

Gene- I genuinely hate his stupid asshole public persona and terrible 21st century offstage hair/wig/brillo pad situation, I don’t think much of anyone actually likes it. Between that and the downright boring to cringey banal sex crap, it’s sad that his stage persona had so many interesting visuals/concepts/symbolism going on that really never got used to their fullest potential (thus why I ran with it in fanfics in the past and made a very Gene-ish but barely sexual character as a spinoff OC). Ross Berg’s book on him gets to be too generous at times but damn if it doesn’t show how compelling he is outside of his two most obnoxious and visible traits.

Peter- … I really don’t have much major beef with Peter. I like his songs well enough and don’t pay heavy enough attention to him as a person and he seems to have mostly reformed these days.

Eric Carr- I generally like his tempo increases but it got a bit too ridiculous in the mid-80s. I also both feel for him in his issues with Paul towards the end and get why Paul would be aggravated with someone that insecure. Being dead means he never had a change to drag himself through the dirt like several other members, there would probably be something significantly worse here in the alternate timeline where he lives.

Vinnie- I just don’t like shredding. I don’t pay enough attention to him as a person because it’s such a shitshow so no comment there.

MSJ- Everyone knows what he did. I also just don’t like shredding so didn’t care about him even before that.

Bruce- His stage presence seems unimpressive but I really can’t take major issue with him.

Eric S- Nothing really objectionable about him, but generally being absent from social media probably has to do with that.

Tommy- I just find him boring. I’ve heard nothing but good things about him and he looks really good visually onstage, I just… really can’t care about him.

[properhosting]

Ecofriendly Cleaning for Airbnb and Sustainable Guest Satisfaction

In the competitive world of Airbnb leases, cleanliness is paramount, making a reliable Airbnb cleaning service important for developing a welcoming atmosphere that guests anticipate. Cleanliness extensively impacts guest pride, and via investing in a committed Airbnb cleaning service, you can make certain your property meets high hygiene requirements, encouraging advantageous evaluations and repeat bookings. Additionally, with the rising call for green practices, cutting-edge guests are more and more aware in their environmental footprint. Utilizing an Airbnb cleansing carrier that prioritizes eco-friendly merchandise now not most effective protects the planet but additionally complements the visitor enjoy, main to glowing critiques and future remains. By prioritizing both cleanliness and sustainability, you can elevate your Airbnb revel in and foster lasting relationships together with your guests.

Understanding Eco-Friendly Cleaning

Reduction of Harmful Chemicals

Traditional cleaning products often incorporate toxic chemicals that could linger in rental houses.

By selecting green alternatives, an Airbnb cleaning service drastically reduces the presence of those harmful materials, ensuring safer surroundings for traffic.

Minimizing Waste and Resource Conservation

Eco-pleasant cleaning practices consist of strategies like reducing water usage and using energy-green home equipment.

An Airbnb cleansing carrier devoted to sustainability can decrease operational costs at the same time as reaping benefits the surroundings.

Benefits of Eco-Friendly Cleaning for Airbnb Hosts

Attracting Eco-Conscious Guests: One of the large benefits of integrating an Airbnb cleaning service that focuses on green practices is the ability to attract eco-aware guests. Today’s guests are more and more privy to their environmental impact and actively searching for inns that align with their values. By highlighting your dedication to sustainable cleansing practices in your listings, you can appeal to this developing demographic. Implementing an Airbnb cleansing provider that uses natural, biodegradable merchandise not best enhances the cleanliness of your property however also sends a fantastic message to potential guests approximately your dedication to sustainability. This can result in elevated bookings and higher occupancy quotes, as eco-aware guests are possibly to prioritize homes that replicate their values.

Enhancing Guest Experience: Another compelling advantage of utilising a green Airbnb cleaning service is the enhancement of the general guest experience. Cleanliness is paramount for any rental, and when guests input a belonging that has been meticulously wiped clean with green merchandise, they without delay feel extra comfortable. This contributes to a more fit living environment, as many conventional cleaning products comprise harsh chemicals that may aggravate the respiratory system and pores and skin. By opting for an Airbnb cleaning service that prioritizes natural ingredients, you create welcoming surroundings that no longer simplest meets but exceeds visitor expectancies. Satisfied guests are much more likely to go away effective critiques, suggest your property to others, and go back for destiny remains—all contributing to the long-term achievement of your Airbnb enterprise.

Essential Eco-Friendly Cleaning Practices for Airbnb

Selecting Eco-Friendly Cleaning Products: Choosing the proper cleansing merchandise is the cornerstone of any effective Airbnb cleaning service. Choose natural and biodegradable cleaners which are free from harmful chemical substances. Not only do those products create a healthier environment to your visitors, however they also reduce your ecological footprint. Brands that use sustainable substances are a wonderful choice, and plenty of offer powerful cleaning answers that rival traditional alternatives. You can even make your personal cleansing solutions the use of not unusual household gadgets like vinegar and baking soda, which might be both secure and effective.

Implementing Sustainable Cleaning Routines: A properly organized cleansing habitual is essential for any Airbnb cleaning service aiming to be green. Start via developing a complete checklist that covers day by day and turnover cleaning responsibilities. Focus on excessive-traffic regions including kitchens, lavatories, and residing areas to make certain thorough cleanliness. Consider scheduling deep cleansing periods throughout off-peak instances, as this allows for a greater in depth easy without the pressure of getting ready for incoming guests. By being strategic about your cleaning practices, you’ll now not best maintain a spotless condo however also make contributions to a greater sustainable approach to hosting.

In brand new competitive Airbnb marketplace, supplying notable cleanliness through a powerful Airbnb cleaning service is greater critical than ever. Guests count on a pristine environment upon arrival, and their delight regularly hinges at the cleanliness of your private home. By making an investment in a reliable cleansing service that prioritizes green practices, you not only beautify the visitor revel in however additionally role your rental as a standout preference some of the myriads of alternatives available. Implementing an Airbnb cleaning service that emphasizes sustainability creates a healthier residing space, reducing the chance of allergies for guests, while also extensively improving your own home's recognition. This dedication to green cleansing attracts eco-aware travelers who admire your willpower to shielding the surroundings. Ultimately, a powerful Airbnb cleaning service is a key issue of your web hosting strategy, cultivating a welcoming environment that encourages high quality reviews, repeat bookings, and visitor loyalty. As you refine your hosting method, recall the significant effect that a devoted cleaning provider could have for your Airbnb's achievement.

Elevate Your Guest Experience with Professional Airbnb Cleaning Services

[steam-carpet-cleaning-blog]

Importance of Cleaning Upholstered Furniture

The cozy upholstered furniture in your home adds elegance and comfort to your living space. In time, upholstered furniture may accumulate dust, dirt, allergens, and potentially hazardous materials.

Regularly cleaning upholstered furniture ensures a hygienic and clean living space. In this blog, we'll look at the dangers hidden in upholstered furniture and the significance of regular cleaning to maintain a clean house.

Why is Cleaning Upholstered Furniture Important?

Dust Mites and Allergens

Upholstered furniture is a perfect place for dust mites to live, microbes that thrive in humid and warm areas. They are attracted by dead skin cells and generate allergens, which can cause breathing problems and allergies.

It is the perfect time to employ a Couch Cleaning Service Melbourne for deep furniture cleaning, such as couches. This will help eliminate dust mites, their waste, and allergens. This reduces the chance of allergic reactions and improves indoor air quality.

Mould and Mildew Growth

In addition, spills, moisture, and high humidity levels could cause mildew and mould in the growth of upholstered furniture. The fungi not only emit unpleasant odours but also present dangers to health, especially for people suffering from respiratory ailments. When you have professional couch cleaning Melbourne, it targets moisture and removes mould and mildew, stopping their growth and creating the cleanliness and health of your living area.

Also Cheak: Carpet Cleaning in Melbourne & Commercial Carpet Cleaning Melbourne

Pet Dander and Odours

If you've got furry companions living in your house, Their presence could contribute to the build-up of pet fur, dander and smells found in upholstery furniture. The odour of pet fur is a well-known allergen that can trigger reactions in allergic people.

The upholstery cleaning services Melbourne can remove pet dander, hair, and persistent odours by using the most effective upholstery cleaning techniques, giving your furniture a fresh look furniture, and making it a more welcoming living space.

Stains and Spills

Stains and spills that happen accidentally can happen even on upholstery furniture. If they are not dealt with, stainings can be permanent, attracting dirt and grime as time passes.

A professional upholstery cleaning company such as 99 Degree Steam Cleaning Services has the experience to deal with various types of stains, employing specialized techniques and methods to get rid of any tough stains and make your furniture look and feel clean.

Restoration of Fabric Integrity

The constant use of your furniture, the exposure to the sun and the general wear and tear may cause damage to the upholstery of your furniture. In addition, over time, dust and oils can wear into the fabric and cause it to wear out and shed its initial beauty.

Upholstered furniture cleaning eliminates harmful particles, keeping your furniture's structural integrity and ensuring it is in good condition for many years.

Health Risks of Unclean Upholstery

Upholstery that is not properly maintained can cause health dangers. As mentioned previously, dust mites can be a frequent allergen that can trigger symptoms that include itching, sneezing, and eye-watering.

Mildew and mould can lead to asthma, allergies, or even infection in people with weak immune systems. Fur and pet dander may aggravate asthma-related allergy symptoms.

Furthermore, upholstery that is not cleaned can have germs, bacteria and viruses that could contribute to health issues. The Carpet Steam Cleaning Melbourne effectively removes these risks to health and ensures a clean living space.

When Should You Call a Professional Upholstery Cleaning Service?

The most frequently asked question is when furniture needs to be cleaned professionally. Although the frequency can vary depending on the factors that influence it, such as how often the furniture is used, the household members (including pets) and the amount of soiling, it's generally suggested to have a professional clean your furniture at least every 9 to 18 months. If you're looking for a professional upholstery Cleaning Botanic Ridge or the surrounding areas Contact us right now.

A regular cleaning schedule not only guarantees getting rid of dirt, stains, allergens, and dust, but it also extends the lifespan of your furniture. If you adhere to a routine maintenance schedule, you will keep the appearance and durability of your furniture. It will also create an airy and welcoming space in your home.

Opt For The Best Upholstery Cleaning in Melbourne

Do not let hidden hazards within your furniture's upholstery compromise the hygiene and safety of your house. A professional upholstery cleaning service is necessary to remove dust mites, mould, allergens, stains, pet dander, and odours. This will result in an environment that is healthier and improve the quality of indoor air.

Book 99 Degree Steam Cleaning Services professional Upholstery Cleaning Botanic services to revive your furniture, creating an airy, cleaner and more inviting living space.

Also Visit:- Top Benefits of Hiring Expert Upholstery Cleaners

[8bitsupervillain]

8bit Reviews: Pathfinder Kingmaker

The first five or six hours I was having a grand time with it. Just loving it from top to bottom, sure the combat was a bit clunky, but aside from that I was having fun. Then I unlocked the kingdom management section of the game and my opinion dropped sharply. The lie that you can set kingdom management to auto-resolve itself is a massive lie because if you leave this bastard alone for too long you will get slapped with an inevitable failure message and have to redo potential HOURS of stuff just to get back to before you doomed yourself. Nevertheless I stuck with it, maybe it'll get better, I thought as I was very thoroughly not having a good time. Twenty hours passed, then thirty, at forty I decided enough's enough I'm done with Pathfinder. So it went for a couple of months I played other better games I became mesmerized and spellbound by other stories that respected my time.

But eventually the bastard thought wormed its way into my head to give it another shot why not? You had time away, surely now's the time it'll be fun! You tried and bounced off some other CRPGs, so who knows, maybe Kingmaker has that secret something to get you back in. Fifty hours passed, sixty, and once again I vowed I would never return to Kingmaker, I uninstalled it from my laptop and desktop. I even went so far as to delete the saves off of my laptop (where I'd been primarily playing Pathfinder). September rolls around, I fall deeply, madly in love with Baldur's Gate III, but eventually I have to go back to work, and my laptop isn't quite the youth it used to be, and storage space is at a premium. Back to Kingmaker, I guess. Reinstalling it I find that because I never deleted my saves off of my desktop the cloud storage for GOG Galaxy kept my saves up to date.

What fun, now I won't have to redo a whole bunch of stuff or start from the beginning. Has the combat always been this aggravating? Be fair, you might just be unfairly comparing it to Baldur's Gate III, the Pathfinder guys did this at least five years ago, and had a fraction of the budget. Comparing the combat to Pillars of Eternity or Tyranny was similarly disastrous because I recall feeling the combat in those was a lot smoother than Kingmaker. Then, disaster strikes, sixty-nine hours into my save file the game declares that I've lost, and I cannot continue the game. Sixty-nine fucking hours down the tubes, nearly three actual days. Literal months of time wasted for this? FOR THIS?! No, NO! Fuck that! Fuck this! I'm done! I'M ABSOLUTELY DONE. FUCK PATHFINDER KINGMAKER, FUCK OWLCAT, FUCK EVERYONE WHO SAYS THIS GAME WAS WORTH PLAYING! And so I uninstall it, again.

Bullshit game, I hate it. The combat, trash. The characters, generally unlikable garbage! At least in other games when there are villains they're well-written villains, you might not like them, but at least they provoke a feeling other than vague irritation. Fucking game, absolute waste of my time. Why did I try to respect the game for so long as I had? What did I gain from it? Our antagonistic relationship was clearly one-sided, Pathfinder was never going to try to meet me halfway and be something decent.

Time passes, it's October and I'm looking at nexus mods. You should see if there's mods for Kingmaker, sure none of them will magically make the game good, but you know, just for a lark. Sure enough, there they are, the whole spectrum. What's this? Cheat mod, well with this I could theoretically reach an ending in Pathfinder. Wouldn't that be something? Get revenge on the game that pissed you off so? I could, theoretically, do that. But why? Why should I shove my hand back in the bear trap? Hadn't I suffered enough? Shouldn't I just leave well enough alone and move on and put Kingmaker (and Wrath of the Righteous) firmly in the rearview of memory?

So, once again, for the last time let's reinstall Pathfinder. This time I'm done pretending to care about beating the game honestly. I want it to be over with. Weight limits? Gone. Barony rolls? Win them instantly. Sure "I'm robbing myself of the experience" of finishing the game "legit," but I am so far beyond caring at this point. You know what the hell of it is? The thing that makes this all so very much unbearable? It wasn't worth it. Eighty-nine hours and seventeen minutes later I finished the game, I got my unsatisfying conclusion, and… that's it.

Back when it first came out I got very very annoyed with Bloodborne. I could not for the life of me get past Vicar Amelia, it got to the point where I stopped playing the game for months because just the sight of it pissed me off. But eventually I powered my way through it, and I now regard Bloodborne as one of the finest games I have ever played.

The sense of satisfaction I got from triumphing over it was exhilarating. Pathfinder Kingmaker gave me no such feeling. Yes I'd finished the game, but there's nothing there. Just another game to add to the list of games I've beaten. For all the self-inflicted agony I've put myself through I got roughly the same satisfaction as when I beat something completely forgettable that I played for roughly a week. I feel more satisfaction finishing Little Nightmares 2 than I do Kingmaker, and I didn't particularly care about Little Nightmares 2.

I guess what I got out of Pathfinder Kingmaker is I really need to get over my absurd feelings that I'm somehow letting the developers down if I don't play a game I hate to completion. Blackguards is probably a better game than this, and I don't particularly like Blackguards.

[wipro-light-blogs]

Green Buildings: The Imperative Shift for a Sustainable Future

What is the need of Green Buildings?

The massive growth of the construction and manufacturing industries in the 21st century has played an important role in favouring the country’s development. However, it has simultaneously raised a host of environmental concerns. Various researches assert that the rising population, industrialization, and high energy demands have mounted significant pressure on the country’s vital energy resources as they are now being used faster than they are made available by the nature.

Thus, impeding the risks on the environment and cutting back on energy utilization (acquired from non-renewable resources) is the need of the hour. Fortunately, people and concerned authorities have joined hands to raise awareness about the need of energy conservation and sustainability. The Indian commercial sector is gradually acknowledging the ethical idea of “Green Buildings” in an attempt to bring down the total energy consumption and save the environment from despair.

What are green buildings?

The World Green Building Council (WGBC) defines green building as a building structure that initiates positive impact on the climate and environment with its design, construction and operation. These buildings aid in preserving the precious natural resources and improve our quality of life.

What is the need of green buildings?

The massive increase in the global energy consumption has aggravated one of the biggest challenges in the world, climate change. This has also increased the level of Greenhouse Gases (GHG) like carbon dioxide. Unfortunately, India is the 5th largest producer of GHG and this has laid adverse impacts on India’s natural resources. Some of them include:

• Potential decline of rainwater, resulting in insufficient availability of fresh water. For instance, the country’s national capital Delhi is facing massive crisis with its groundwater close to running out.

• The increased demand has leveraged significant threat on the country’s agriculture sector. This can lead to food scarcity in future.

• Exploitation of the country’s biodiversity with adverse implications on the forest-dependent activities.

The above-mentioned factors indicate towards an immediate need of sustainable practices and eco-friendly approaches like green buildings in India. According to the leading commercial lighting manufacturers, a green building is typically designed to use less water and generate lesser waste. These buildings offer improved energy efficiency and contribute in conserving the natural resources. Furthermore, they offer numerous other benefits. Some of them include:

• Reduce pressure on the consumption of natural resources by shifting reliance on renewable energy sources.

• Minimize operating costs, optimize lifecycle economic performance, and increase the building’s valuation and RoI.

• Flourish an environment powered by eco-friendliness. This enhances the productivity, comfort and efficiency of the occupants.

Furthermore, the concept of green buildings serves as an ideal solution that addresses the booming construction industry and provides an opportunity to capitalize on tropical climates.

In addition, the leading LED lighting manufacturers in the country are now offering sustainable and environment-friendly commercial lighting solutions for uplifting the idea of green buildings. At Wipro Lighting, we are continuously promoting the development of sustainable and eco-friendly infrastructure and are the only lighting company in India to have built more than 55% of the green buildings in India.

[sahilad]

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[erendur]

Thanks for the super detailed answer, and for making it clear to a non-musical person !

Maglor as a bass, ok. I have zero opinion on the question, so won't argue with you :) When you wrote "his sons are generally low on pitch", you meant "sound", right ? I thought about E&E but didn't mean anything in the context :)

So for the music of the Ainur, there would be a melodious, complex ensemble harmonising together (sorry if these terms don't work !), and then Melkor doing his own simple and loud thing, in a different key ? And basically trying to get the others to follow him then. That sounds like a complete waste of his talents for sure !

I'm very game for a tangent on power cords if you can make it understandable to a non-musical person !

I love your entire paragraph about Melkor's sound landscape when in Arda, and the comparison of Melkor to a first-year music student. Yes, I can see it, super gifted and completely lost in his own cool.

Interesting contrast for his Black Rider phase, the frightening rumbling and the high-pitched noises when provoked.

I laughed at the idea of cool teenage goth Morgoth sa-si-ing in Valinor ! That works so well, and would just aggravate Fëanor. Although I can imagine him not doing it when trying to "seduce" Fëanor. I get the Scar comparison, he does something pretty similar in the dubbed French version :)

I can't tell you how much I love the idea of his voice rusting and him losing interest in talking the more time passes in his Dark Lord form. Works great with his loss of activity as well, although he still seems to be mentally acute (at least the Elves and Pengoloth think he is still plotting at the time right before the Sirion kinslaying). And he is very much animalised by the time of the War of Wrath.

I absolutely, 100% agree about Manwë's sadness about the loss of Melkor. It's the same feeling I think we are supposed to have as readers about the loss of Fëanor, and that Manwë has about the loss of Fëanor, actually, compounded by the fact that Melkor is his brother and also that of course his abilities and his potential were so much greater than Fëanor's. Mourning the loss of a brother and the loss of his potential even if (especially if) he has committed so many atrocities. Manwë is probably the only one who can remember Melkor "in his fair form" that must add to it.

Ok, so I have a very silly and probably barely applicable question, but what with Morgoth-canary and I think I remember a post where you said you had very strong opinions about Maglor's voice (I don't remember them, it was one of those "blink and it's gone" posts of my feed ! But I'd like to read them if you feel like it - although I don't know the first thing about music so it's just really sheer curiosity), so I was wondering if you had thoughts about Morgoth's voice ? What could Ainuric voices be like ? And did taking permanent physical form affect his voice ? Probably, right ? He wouldn't have been able to modulate/change it quite as much as before, maybe be stuck with a classically villainy "evil" one ? And then in the void he would have no voice anymore.

Ooooh! Thank you for this question, it's great!

First, Maglor. He is a bass. Well, not really, because I'm certain that Elves have wider vocal ranges, but his speaking voice is rather low, and his singing voice is varied, but can go super low, vibrations-in-your-bones low, and his sons are generally low on pitch. Like the sea. The sea does not squeek.

This is one of the headcanons I will argue about. I am rather strong in my opinions about Maglor. I would rather agree on "Maglor in the Darkness Everlasting"* than on tenor Maglor.

Oh, so now to the king of fools, lord of nothing, Melkor in his various iterations. Starting back when he wasn't such an idiot yet. Standard Morgoth content warning: we'll be doing a short recap of his history. No details, just allusions to events.

So, Ainulindale. which is my favorite chapter. Melkor was the greatest of the Ainur, which means, I think, he had a relatively wide vocal range, well wider than all the other Ainur.

But also, he was a little bint (word thanks to dfw), and taking into account all the band kid stereotypes… OK, tbh I know exactly one professional soprano, who also plays violin, and she's really nice and the only other things she's got in common with Melkor are the fear of spiders and cool hair. But, this being said, the personality stereotypes say that Melkor should be a soprano.

The Ainur's voices aren't gender-coded, I would say. If they even had the idea of gender at that point.

So, he can do many things, but he generally sings in a high pitch, because this makes everyone notice him.

Also, musically... so, this is that thing called chromatic notes. It's a think that jazz does (and I love jazz, I have mental associacions with jazz that would make tolkien chase me with an axe, but let's not digress). Like: when you compare Chopin to Mozart; Chopin is way more chromatic.

So, Melkor doesn't do it. He sings his own dumb melody, which is in a dissonance to everyone else initially (which means it is chromatic in the context of the whole Music), but internally it is simple. It is fifths, lates I would say he just repeats one note on and on, just in many octaves. And the note is probably B. Or maybe G flat.

OK, in non-musical terms: imagine someone is playing a piano (in a normal, mostly-white-keys way), and someone else is banging on the black keys, and then only on all the Gb keys. It's loud but primitive. And doesn't fit until you go Chopin and everything becomes lyrical and so sad, and then he can't really break it, I can't explain it well.

TLDR: Extremely simple harmony, but loud and not in the normal key.

Also, I wanted to talk about power chords but I don't think you want another musical tangent. (They're not as cool as they sound, they're empty-ish inside but it kinda works in the context)

Then they all go to Arda and at some point begin speaking properly. Iirc it's only after the Elves, but I assume the Ainur did have some sounds associated with them even before.

So Melkor's general sound landscape would again be empty inside. Some very loud tones, because they feel majestic: thunder rumbling, ice grinding, earthquake and the murmur of volcano, you can feel it in your bones and it's terryfying. Some very high tones, because they are effective and hard to miss. Evil screeching. No middle tones, because he's an idiot he finds them boring. Empty shell, like an epic movie soundtrack compised by a first-year student of music school and played on a midi. All the trappings but none of the actual work.

His voice, during the Black Rider phase would be similar. Low and rumbling and terryfying, but everytime he gets emotional it becomes high-pitched and has this infuriating timbre of when people talk with a very tense throat. It makes him sound insecure. Because he is. And when beaten by Tulkas he screams like this.

Then we have the parole and I do hc that he actually meant to be better, only he imagined it like "I stop breaking your stuff, and messing with the little beings, and you start listening to me like you listen to Manwë (= you do all I want you to do)" and was not really interested in putting in the effort. So the whole idea broke at the first problems (the city is so pretty, not everyone likes me, Feanor).

Anyway in his Aman phase I imagine Melkor with relatively low voice, but not so low it's weird. He fits in the nornal Elven spectrum. Baritone? Getting higher with the pitch when needed, but rarely he would let his emotions show enough to go very high.

Also, the sweet manner of talking that Sauron had as Annatar or in Numenor, but not so self-deprecating. Less of a "I'm but a humble servant" and more of "I am pretty cool, hey, want to do cool things with me?" The general vibe of a bad boy in a teenage romantic drama. Elongated syllabes, using all the most recent and fashionable Noldorin mannerisns (sa-si all the way!). Also, a lot of whispering, when he spreads the gossip and what not. "Sexy voice" but with his lack of understanding and respect for bounduaries it often feels creepy.

Then he grows more and more sinister, more focused on revenge against the Noldor (well, Feanor) and the Valar. His voice becomes more like a low-key Disney villain. The pitch is unchanged, but the tone is full of suggestions of subtext. It's never clear, but a lot of insinuations are hanging in the air. this kind of slithery, musical intonation in a sentence, elongating of wovels, slightly question-like tone too often. (I can't give you a good example, Scar would be a good example, but only in the Polish dub)

Then he does the Ungoliant business and gets stuck in his Dark Lord form. So, I would say low, booming voice, but flat (=not many overtones, the voice sounds shallow). Loud and with echo, but somehow not as majestic as he would like it. And when he gets scared or lusty or anyhow agitated, he starts talking faster and in a higher voice and with clenched throat.

And he gradually deteriorates, due to Silmarils and general awfulness, and his voice becomes more raspy, more noisy. At the end it's impossible to ascribe a set pitch to it, just like to white noise. Still it doesn't have tones in the middle, but the highs and lows are a mess, and closer to each other, the lacking middle is more narrow. And he doesn't speak much near the end, he's not that interested in any communication. Especially after trying to talk (ekhm) with Lúthien ended like it did. His voice rusts.

And at the end it's just panicked screams that sound more like ….not even an animal. More like a mindless dark creature than like a person. Switching between threats and pleading and pure panic, always full of hatered and disdain. Loud but always so very flat.

And then, upon hearing all those screams, Manwë realizes that the brother he remembers is gone, and that he can't do anything about it— how can you do a reprise without one of the main singers? And even if you could, how can you be happy forever missing someone you love? He doesn't know. I don't know. I am sad.

On one hand the very idea of Second Music is so wonderful and answers so many questions and Aegnor and Andreth and Elrond and Elross and all that and more— and I can't imagine Manwë thinking about this idea and not thinking at the back of his head "my brother won't be with us" and not being sad. I am not saying it's not possible. Just that I can't wrap my mind around it. Or my feelings.

Yes, this is one of my attractors, one of the topics I usually land on. Because. Reasons. Which I will not ramble about because they are personal. But it does make me sad. A lot.

I have some scenes in my head when people Valar talk about this, Nienna obv, she doesn't get it either, many people would probably say she would get it idk

Anyway that's it. That's the post. Sorry it's not more concrete.

[windser]

Can you imagine Xiao as a fuckboy?

has potential as a alt verse for my college!xiao brain rot. he's definitely not a frat boy, god forbid, someone associate him with that chaotic mess. he's an independent soul that often prefers solitude over company, but everyone has some sort of needs. university is stressful, from an educational and social standpoint. and it helps that he's just so pretty. he attracts attention like a honey pot. by his second year he figured it was more of a waste not to utilize it.

call him a fuck boy, but he has tastes. he doesn't just accept anyone's bed. his libedo is purely determinant on his mood. by morning he might seem disinterested but it’s nearing the late hour and his eyes are wandering.

he doesn't limit himself to looks, he knows who to invite to his bed. avoiding the clingy types and those who'd ask more questions than he'd care to hear. all he wants tonight is your consent and tomorrow dismissal.

it would be more aggravating if he wasn't so good. his limitations are slim when it comes to achieving an orgasm. he'll have your hand or mouth, standing or bent over. beg or scream, it doesn't matter. his pace is the only setting and you're bound to get off either way so why complain?

fucks doggy style, half haphazardly stripped clothing muting the lewd smacks of hips meeting. palms braced against the counter top. thumb expertly turning circles against the most sensitive cores.

would absolutely return to old favorites. every now and again, he might misread someone and they just manage to ruin his drive. but he does know who can make his night right, a small but generous list of willing participants.

so what if he get around a bit?

its college.

he's here for a good run, not a long one.

[man-monsters-and-aliens]

Have you seen MVA specifically the tv series and what are your thoughts about it?

yes I have! like twice? or three times selectively? and that was like 2 years ago!

short answer; this show has all my love and hatred for its existence

long answer?

I like the concept of the monster agents having to "share" living space with the aliens, and I do like the idea of the different aliens sort of being foils or compliments to the monsters

the ongoing plots like coverton's relationships with the monsters and how he has redeeming qualities is really nice! and I appreciate some of the continuity like the teleportation bit. I am sad that didn't get resolved or that we got to see through with coverton's invasion plans

sqweep's relationship with link is especially sweet and I hold it so dear to my heart, and even small interactions for sta'abi with the others are also really nice

I adore and appreciate how the monsters interact with each other because they absolutely nailed the family vibe, and just how they behave with the aliens in general since there's that bit of speciescism in there

my favourite eps are;

‌The Toy From Another World

‌Frenemy Mine

‌Maximum B.O.B.

‌It Came... on a Field Trip

‌The Thing with One Brain

‌98 Pound Cockroach

‌Screaming Your Calls

‌It Came From Level Z

‌Driven to Madness

‌The Beast From 20,000 Gallons

‌It Spoke With Authority

‌This Ball Must Be Dodged

‌It Ruled With an Iron Fist

‌Race to the End...Zone!

‌That Which Cannot Be Unseen

(though I honestly don't remember what some of these were about haha)

now onto what I don't like

firstly, Butterflyosaurus isn't there, and secondly, Ginormica isn't ginormic all the time, but we'll touch on these later

the fact that nickelodeon produced it already had my expectations low, and the fact that it was in 3d made it worse. based on the style of the concept arts, I would've loved it better if it was animated that way in 2d.

the character designs for the aliens are so ugly and unappealing (except sqweep she's decent) but even the models are weirdly scaled and disproportionate for the humans. again, the concept arts for coverton, sta'abi, and vornicarn were so much better than the end result, it's a real shame honestly

the characterization for the monsters were awfully flanderised early on so it was very annoying how Bob was portrayed, and though it did improve a lot as the eps progressed there was always something better they could've done, which was frustrating and agonising to watch

I don't remember having any particular loathing towards any certain eps? because I kinda wanna stay positive about it, but my god were some of the writing just nauseating and aggravating I would get so frustrated and angry cause of how stupid it is

a major theme throughout monsters vs aliens is the use of camera angles and the sense of scale, and the other thing is accepting change since her entire life got flipped. that gets completely erased and the quantonium is replaced with hyperium in the pilot, so Susan can go big or small whenever she wants and the whole movie was a waste of time!! it might as well be a superpower instead of considering her a monster cause her whole thing was being abnormaly big!! and it's clear the show did this for convenience sake which really makes it unauthentic, hence why butterfly isn't there or mentioned at all. susan isn't even a main character most of the time it's bob, then doc, then link, and THEN..... coverton.

how poorly this show was mostly handled made me seethe so much that I have an idealised reboot in my head out of spite and love

it had the potential to be good, it just wasn't the best

[sisterspooky1013]

Red-Handed, Chapter 16

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

This is a joint work with @xfmaweezy and we are taking prompts

They really shouldn’t be doing this.

Mulder usually forbids it. It’s his one rule: no sex on the clock. Imagine that, the man who habitually flaunts his disregard for authority has a rule. She suspects it’s to protect her more than anything else. Isn’t it always? But today she’s snippy and agitated, and he just knows her so well.

So well. He’s currently showing her just how well he knows her. He knows her inside and out. And he knows her right. fucking. there. “Don’t stop,” she commands as she fists her hand into his hair, holding him in place and ensuring that he won’t.

They’re here in some rural lake town in some backwoods mountain county in North Carolina, investigating a highly armed, somewhat regulated UFO cult that has made even the local authorities in Podunk, USA nervous. The suspected arsenal and explosives prompted the convergence of an interagency task force that comprises teams from the ATF and FBI, including Mulder and Scully from Domestic Terrorism. But it’s the mention of little green men that requires another FBI team on the task force, and it’s this presence of the X-Files division that has Scully on edge.

Their accommodations on the case have somewhat hindered the investigation. There’s no internet, no conference room. Most work requiring use of modern technology occurs in the city 45 minutes down the road. There is one rental car per four agents, and one room per two. With Scully being one of only two female agents on the case, there is no privacy for her and Mulder, no stolen moments, no way to ground herself through her partner’s touch. There’s just no getting away from Diana Fowley, not even while she sleeps.

The rooms themselves are rather nice in that rustic, simple kind of way, with small back patios overlooking a man-made lake and sandy shore. The floors are tiled rather than carpeted, which the manager said makes it easier to sweep the sand up.

Mulder shifts back and forth on his knees, surely cursing the sand as the tile presses taut patellar tendons into tibias and threatens to aggravate decade-long injuries. Injuries wrought by stamina, endurance compelled by a literal run away from demons and twisted minds and evil deeds.

Though no stamina would be necessary today. She is coiled so tightly he knows that only the barest of nudges will release her elastic potential energy, springing her free from the tension and irritation that have been steadily increasing since she arrived a week ago and learned who her roommate would be.

Today had been particularly rough. They’d made no headway in the case, and Agent Fowley’s perpetual use of Mulder’s first name, along with her determination to divert his focus to the supernatural, left Scully feeling prickly and combative and generally unpleasant. Diana had dumped them in the parking lot, the pair too caught up in their bickering to even acknowledge her hasty departure to pick up tonight’s dinner for the task force investigators.

As a sulking Scully opened the door to her room, Mulder knew exactly what she needed and he wasted no time gathering her in his arms and throwing her onto the closest soft surface.

Which is how she finds herself on her back, pulled to the edge of the bed nearest the front door. Her shoes and pantyhose are discarded in the corner alongside her no-show cotton bikini briefs, which Mulder seems to find sexier than her most expensive lace thongs. Her skirt is pushed up to her waist, her legs are over his shoulders, and he’s doing that thing to her clit with his tongue.

Her legs begin to quake and he knows she needs more before she even asks for it. He straightens, her ankles locked behind his neck, and plunges two fingers palm up deep into her cunt. With a thumb pressed firmly over her clit, he’s got a grip on her like a bowling ball. The cords and muscles of his forearm flex and extend as he works her into a frenzy.

The only sound in the room is the obscene, lubricious slick of her pussy, and the small grunts and whimpers that escape her clenched mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her brows furrow as she tosses her head in some twisted parody of an exaggerated no.

She gasps in a sudden breath and her hips lift up off the bed. Her fingers grasp at the bedcovers, gathering handfuls, as her body stiffens. Her eyes shoot open in a combination of surprise, confusion and desperation. She groans an “oh, god” and then, “Mulder!” as fluid soaks his tie and dress shirt.

She lowers her hips back to the bed, and Mulder does not relent. He’s mesmerized and focused, and it is now he who chants the oh gods. His suited thighs are drenched, along with the front and back of her skirt and the bedding underneath her, and her cum puddles on the tile around his knees.

Her ankles unlock and slide down his arms to hang limp and exhausted over the side of the bed, and he slowly drags his fingers from her, making her legs twitch. A small crooked half smile breaks across her mouth and she sighs. She is spent and depleted and she’s never been sexier.

He places a kiss on the dewy bronze hair of her mons and gives her thighs a little squeeze. “Wow, Scully.” The awe in his voice thumps in her heart and the post-orgasmic rush of oxytocin fills her eyes with tears. She is overwhelmed by the love she has for this infuriating man, and too sated to be embarrassed. It’s simply another first shared between them.

“Guess I needed that,” she says.

He, too, is overwhelmed. “I guess you did,” he smiles.

He gives her hip a couple of taps and begins to stand. “Stay put. I’ll get a towel.”

She watches him dreamily as he rises. His clothes are saturated and the sight of it pulls her up to full awareness. She scrambles to sit up, her toes dipping into the wetness splashed over the tile. “God, Mulder, she could be back any second!”

He’s moving more quickly as he returns with a towel, gently blotting at his silk tie and mumbling something about never having it cleaned again. Scully is sitting where he left her, naked legs hanging to the floor and her skirt twisted and gathered around her waist. Her hair is mussed in the back, and her eye makeup is smeared. But her suit coat is still buttoned, her lipstick still applied flawlessly. The contrast between the indomitable office Scully and a throughly fucked Scully is adorable. His smile is beaming.

“What?” she asks shyly, looking up at him, as he takes a step back between her legs.

And disappears with a grunt.

Scully winces at the crack of his head hitting the ceramic flooring, but it’s the silence that spurs her into action. She nearly slips on the wet floor herself as she drops to Mulder’s side, relief washing over her when he rolls to his back and lets out a pained moan. He raises his free hand to cover the growing pumpknot purpling just inside the hairline above his temple.

“Open your eyes, Mulder, let me look at you,” she quietly directs as she tenderly combs her fingers through his hair, gently palpating his scalp while watching his pupils for any sign of concussion and concurrently soothing them both with her touch.

She helps him into a sitting position and removes his tie, tossing it into the corner. She takes the towel still clutched to his chest and begins nervously drying her legs, the floor, and the bottoms of his shoes before giving him the news he doesn’t want to hear: they’ll be paying a visit to the nearest hospital.

Hours later, her high heels dangling from two fingers, she lets herself back into the room. She is sticky, tired, and wrinkled, and not for the first time since she lowered Mulder into the back seat of a borrowed fleet car, she wishes she would have taken the time to put on some underwear. Her bare feet tiptoe through the door so as to not awaken her roommate and she is reminded of wild nights as an unruly teenager, sneaking in past curfew. As she pushes the door closed and turns around, she’s surprised to find the room awash in the dim light of a bedside lamp, and Diana curled up reading a book in her bed, the one nearer the balcony overlooking the lake.

“You’re out late,” Diana comments flatly without looking at her, then licks a finger before turning the page of her book.

Irritation boils in Scully’s chest at the absolutely unrestrained gall of this woman.

“That’s my bed,” Scully accuses, letting her navy blue pumps clatter to the floor.

Diana glances to the corner and then to the rumpled bed nearest Scully before settling her eyes on hers. “It appears you’ve taken my bed,” she retorts.

Scully follows Diana’s gaze. As she takes in the sight of her pantyhose intermingled with Mulder’s tie, and the wet, nearly unmade bed before her, her embarrassment is quickly eclipsed by satisfaction. Physically, emotionally, spiritually: she has everything she needs, and Diana holds no power over her anymore.

She lifts her chin haughtily, an almost-smile on her lips.

“That’s right, I have,” she responds before making a show of gathering her discarded undergarments and Mulder’s tie, carrying them to the bathroom where she takes a long, hot shower.

Diana has switched off the light and turned her back to the room by the time Scully slides under the sheets, exhausted but happy. For once, she doesn’t mind sleeping on the wet spot.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[that-blue-vault-dweller]

What about the companions realizing that they may never have heard the real name of sole even though they have been with her for a long time

Cait - Is a little angry when she realizes it, so she stomps right up to F!Sole and declares that she has been hiding something from her. F!Sole is completely surprised and protests, insisting that she would never hide anything from Cait. But when Cait tells her it is her name that she has hidden, F!Sole laughs before telling her the name. When Cait hears it, she is a little surprised at F!Sole's willingness to just tell her. She asks her why she hid it for so long, and F!Sole explains that no one really asks, so she does not usually think to tell.

Piper - Is somewhat upset and it is pretty early in their time together when she actually realizes it. Of course, she waits until she has travelled with her Blue for a longer time before finally asking her name, because she is worried that F!Sole is keeping her name to herself for a reason. Piper does not want to make her uncomfortable or bring back any potentially bad memories. When F!Sole tells her, Piper grins widely and offers her hand to shake, introducing herself once again, which naturally brings a laugh out of F!Sole.

Curie - Is disoriented and unhappy when she realizes that she does not know Madame's actual name. Therefore, she proceeds to ask and explain that she is very ashamed that she does not know this information. When F!Sole answers, Curie brightens considerably and gushes over what a beautiful name it is.

MacCready - When he realizes it, he is shocked and cannot believe that he has travelled with her so long without knowing something so important. He waits a little while before asking as casually as he can. As soon as he says it, he realizes that it sounds way more planned than he meant for it to. When she answers, he feels a lot better, but he still has a bit of awkwardness left behind from the way he asked, so he just sort of says that her name's cool and quiets for a while.

Deacon - When he realizes, he finds it terribly humorous, and he just laughs like crazy. Not too long after, F!Sole asks what is so funny. Then he tells her that somehow she has managed to keep something secret from the one person who knows pretty much every secret in the Commonwealth. When she asks what it is, he finally tells her that he does not know her actual name. She laughs a little in reply and starts to tell him what it is before he cuts her off quickly and tells her that he's going to figure it out on his own.

Codsworth - Knows her name, and is quite upset when he realizes most people in the Commonwealth have not called her by it. He therefore makes it his mission to introduce his mistress to everyone. That is, as long as she is alright with that.

Hancock - Is somewhere between finding it somewhat funny, being extremely curious, and feeling a little aggravated with the fact that he somehow does not know what her name is. So he asks as soon as possible, and when she answers, he smiles and tells her that she has a beautiful name.

Danse - Back when he recommended her to the Brotherhood, she introduced herself the higher-ups in private, so he missed her actual name. But he never really thought about it, because he always referred to her by her title. When he is out of the Brotherhood, he finally realizes that he does not actually know the name of the most important person in his life. He wastes no time in somewhat ashamedly and awkwardly questioning what her name is. When she tells him, he feels a warmth in his chest and he nods, at a loss for words as he thinks about the entire situation.

Preston - First realizes it when he proceeds to introduce her at an event for the Minutemen. He sort of pauses, and he looks at her with something akin to panic in his eyes before just deciding to say the General. As soon as she has finished her speech, then he pulls her over to the side, laughing somewhat nervously as he tells her that he does not actually know her real name. When she tells him, he nods in appreciation and grins, happy to finally have a real name to put with her.

Valentine - Is surprised at himself for never taking the time to actually think about that. He always calls her “kid” or “doll” but never really considered her true name. Therefore, he asks her the next time he sees her, and when she tells him, he makes sure to call her by that name, too. 

X6-88 - Knows her name, but has yet to hear it from anyone in the Commonwealth. He finds that to be quite strange, so he asks her why no one calls her by her name. He is even more confused when she explains that very few people have actually asked her what her name is.

Dogmeat - Does not care that he hasn't heard her name. He knows who she is, and to him, that's perfectly good enough. She smells amazing, sounds amazing, and treats him amazing, so he's happy no matter what her name is.

Strong - Is confused when he really thinks about it, so he wastes no time in just asking what her name is. When she responds, he is irritated and he informs her that she needs to change her name to something more tough. Like Spike or Gut-Head.