#way weirder than the dream I had with Sniper trying to murder me in a hotel just before dealing with a demon goat

[jellazticious]

I am going to tell everyone a dream I had a few nights back

hold on to your hats, it's wild and thank god I wrote everything in a notebook

I finally, a good tf2 dream. Been waiting since that dream with the mercs hiding in the cave and the Engineer was shyly flirting with me (I was Spy)

But, this one is weirder and with no romance

Okay so, the dream is like a tf2 match but the game mode isn't specified, RED and BLU are just killing each other for no particular reason at all. Also the map does not exist in real life. The map where the dream takes place is this pink government building with a bunch of arch columns, the middle of the map does not have a control point, even tho it looks like it could be a king of the hill map. anyways, in this giant dome, the top of it have like stairs that look like they're made of Lego, on one end it's really wide but on the other side, you have to tightrope walk it. The "tf2 veterans" are the only ones who can properly walk from the wide end to the thin end.

Okay, that is the setting. Now the POV.

there is no pov. I am a camera and the main character is this BLU Engineer (YAAAAAAAAA) so like, he refuses to plant sentries like an idiot and just tries to shoot people 1v1 all the way. Engie then kind of just, finds himself on the bridge cuz he was being chased by a Demoknight. The Demo stopped following him when he realized Engie was serious with trying to cross the bridge. Then like he reaches the slim end to be met with a Heavy charging towards him, he bolted back to the entrance and he was blocked by a Pyro who then air blasts him off the bridge

pitch black, like a fucking Deltarune intro (gghfghhhhsfffffff DELL- TARUNE)

then fade back. Engie wakes up on a pile of hay inside this barn. The vibe changed, it's no longer a tf2 game. It's now one of those point and click games with high quality pixel art. There's clickables n shit, there's even a fucking items inventory on the bottom part of my "camera". Anyways, Engie woke up, doesn't say a word and the "player" (not me tho) tries to click the sides of the screen to look around but it's like agonizingly slow and they realize you can move the camera like how you move the camera on SFM.

Engineer walks out and there's like wheat fields for miles and miles around except for a path. The path have no wheat and it have some stuff scattered around em. Engie walked the entire narrow pathway and like when he turns, his team Medic and Heavy are on a picnic table taping a bunch of boxes. Med looks at Engie and goes "HALLOOOO" like he'd normally would, this made Heavy look back to who was Medic talking to. Heavy goes "ah!", stands up and hands Engineer a box. He said he and Medic are dealing with some deliveries, whatever that means. Engie looks inside the box and it's full of Fudgee Bars (Filipino brand cake bars) and gets real confused and slightly pissed. He just places the box back on the table and just kept following the path, he eventually gets to this little village, still covered in walls of wheat. there's like five paths but three of them are blocked with picnic tables piling up and covering the path. Literally, you cannot pass them, the piles are taller than houses.

There are NPCs in that town and they look like they straight up came from The Town With No Name. Tho, when one of them was clicked for interaction, Medic and Heavy came running to them and just chaotically yells at the NPC to not tell Engie anything urubrifdbsv. Engie went for a different person, same thing, another person, no no no, Medic and Heavy aren't gonna let that happen. Engie goes "Dammit, fine! I'll go to the stinking roads"

There's two paths that aren't blocked and yeah, left seems like a good one to start but before that, Engie gotta take a piss, thank fuck there's an outhouse that for some reason, the insides are like a high class hotel bathroom, bigger on the inside and like my inner monologue, not Engie's, went "Yeah, that's reasonable. It's a dream after all". The camera momentarily became Engie's total POV because God forbids me to see Engie dick even in dreams. Tho I don't think this Engie got a dick cuz he sat down the toilet instead of just unzipping his pants to take a piss.

Anyways, the entire thing starts to rumble and like, there is a feeling of sea sickness. then it dawned to us that the outhouse is being moved. Literally, getting moved by a fucking crane, then THUD

Don't worry, he's fine. Got out and realized he's not in the wheat field anymore, Heavy's next to the outhouse, leaning on it, eating a sandwich. Medic isn't with him anymore, I don't know why, he's probably the one who drove the crane but there is no crane anywhere. The vibe of the dream changed from point and click feel to Netflix show third person view. Heavy looked at Engie and said "Looks familiar?" then nods his head and using his eyebrow to point infront of them.

It's the fucking pink government building from the start. Engie scrunches his face in absolute confusion. Still, he "thanks??" Heavy and walked in. Instead of a battlefield it turned into this ballroom party and everyone (still BLU and RED mercs) are talking about soccer matches and which team they think will win. Oh boy, this is not what Engie was expecting and like he was about to get involved until he saw the Pyro who pushed him off the bridge. Yeah no, he's not gonna get near that thing. He went into this kitchen that looks exactly like mine. Bruh, Dell Conagher was in my fucking kitchen bhvfehbbhjve. Anyways, he pulled in the fridge and grabbed a huge ass cup from it

?????

Nah, this seems like a normal occurence, he just took a fat sip from the giant cup and he gagged from it. He looked at the water and there's fucking concrete street bits. He almost choked on a piece of metal framing. Tho??? he did not act like it's unnatural, he just bitched about it. Spy enters the kitchen to grab the wine bottles and glasses from the other side of the kitchen (in my real kitchen, he have a shelf thing opposite from the fridge. We have wine glasses hanging upside down from it). Engie called him just to continue bitching about the water and BY GOD THIS IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER SEEN IN A DREAM

"Spah, can you believe it??"

"wha-"

"There's bad concrete...

IN THE WATER"

"Dell..."

Spy takes the giant cup, leans to get to Engie's eye level and says "This is normal"

THEN TOOK A GIANT SIP FROM IT LIKE IT'S NOTHING WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT

God, I could taste the stone and I still remember the texture of the water

Engie just rolled his eyes and exits the kitchen back to the ballroom.

Everyone is staring at him and it's probably because he hated the concrete water. Huge brawl ensues between team concrete water and the Engineer defenders. The fight is getting so loud that the NPCs from the second act of the dream came around to see what was making all that ruckus. They all collectively gasped "OH!"

You would expect that was a gasp of negative shock but no, they immediately cheered and wage bets at the mercs.

Things get messy in that point but I do remember that Engie yanked the RED Sniper's rife from his handsand just shoots with it perfectly. No he is still not making a sentry. The dream made sure I know that Engie got a sensory overload because the cameras keep switching from the crowd noises, the gunshots, the screaming and his frustrated face. Then the camera pans to someone in the crowd who's mocking cheer can be heard the most. It's Betty Boop, y'know, the lady from Fleischer's. He straight up shoots her head for being so taunting.

Big mistake, she turned into this flaming demon owl that looks like it came from No Straight Roads. Normal people wake up when they see horrific transformations with inhumane screeching in dreams but for some reason, I don't wake up from nightmares. The whole thing became a bossfight. She switches from the arches of the buildings and to the ceiling. She was mostly targeting Engie for shooting her.

Anyways, fight went on, then she goes to phase 2. Demon Betty merged with the ceiling and like became a chandalier full of body parts. Engie got hit in the leg and I woke up from a leg cramp in the same place.

Hoo, what a ride

[heller-obama]

Operation Newsboy

It’s still Saturday, so I still made the deadline I made for myself! (it’s still around the time I usually post but still)

Also, actual plot this time! Yay!

Here’s the prologue, chapter one, chapter two, and chapter three if you hadn’t read them

Chapter 4

Words: 2,204 (it’s really because the newsies plot started too)

Warnings: uhhh child labor, child abuse(?) kinda not really, cursing, this chapter isn’t as good as the others

Editing: just grammarly because this is super rushed sorry

***#***

Barry’s Flash suit cowl hung behind his head, his face of absolute shock. To Wally’s own shock, there was something new about Barry: there was a scar running from the corner of his eye to between his nose and his lip. It was thick and pale against his tan skin.

“Wally? What the hell? Why are you in 1899?” He asked, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m here--I’m here with the Legends. What happened to your face?” Wally asked, unsure of how he felt about these circumstances.

“I’ve told you the story before,” He grumbled. “You know I don’t like to talk about it.”

“No…Barry, you haven’t.”

“Wally, don’t drag that into this,” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re…oh. Oh.” Realization dawned on Wally. “Barry…humor me. Where’d you get that scar?”

“You know how!” He said, probably a bit louder than he should. Wally gave him the just-do-it-you-big-idiot stare. “Fine! The knife fight over newsie turf, okay? Jeesh!”

“Oh, dammit,” Wally muttered. “I told you I was here with the Legends. This kid was killed when he wasn’t supposed to be, and he was supposed to ignite a strike that’d end child labor…We’re here to save the kid.”

“What do you mean, ‘end child labor’? That’s still a thing in 2017, Wally. Let alone the 20th century.”

“It’s the time ripples. This kid I’m protecting dies, then he doesn’t set off a strike in two days, and child labor isn’t abolished like it was supposed to be, in the ‘30s.”

Barry just stared at the guy he considered his brother for a few seconds.

“So…” Wally tried to break the silence. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“The goddamn Thinker,” he muttered. He didn’t offer any more insight.

“Would you look at that?” Wally teased. “The great Barry Allen, cursing like a sailor.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled and playfully punched Wally’s arm.

##*##

When Wally made it back to the Lodge(it didn’t take that long considering he ran there and back), the boys were all sitting on their beds cross-legged, mischievous grins plastered on their faces.

“Oh, no,” he muttered when he saw the boys.

“Oh, yes,” they all said.

“So why’d youse run out of ‘ere like that, eh?” Race asked.

“Uh…” Wally couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Youse got yourself a nickname now!” Romeo crowed.

“Speedy!” The boy who slept under Race, Sniper, called.

“Yeah!” All the boys yelled.

“Ey! Quiet down, I’s tryin’ to sleep ‘ere.” Finch said loudly.

“A’ight,” the boys mumbled.

And despite himself, Wally could feel himself smiling as he fell asleep.

##*##

Manhattan, New York

July 13, 1899

“Wally! Wally! Wally! Wally!” Wally groaned and rolled over in bed. There was a tinny voice shouting in his ear.

“Waaaaaallyyyyyyyyy!” The voice shouted, even louder this time. “Wally! Get your ass out of bed! That’s an order!” Finally, Wally stirred and recognized Sara’s voice from the comms in his ear.

“What?” He whispered, wary of waking his new friends up.

“You remember why you’re there, right? Save Jack Kelly, save the child labor ban! He’s supposed to be killed soon!”

“How long?” He whispered, shaking the sleep out of him.

“Fifteen minutes, max! Let’s go!”

Wally slipped out of bed, walking as silently as possible to the door. He opened it, then slipped out.

“Eh, New York’s fine for those who got a big, strong door to lock it out.” He could hear Jack’s voice, presumably talking to Crutchie. “But, I tell ya, Crutchie, there is a whole ‘nother way out there!” Wally stayed in hiding, not wanting to intrude on whatever conversation was going on up there. He looked around, checking to see if there were any nefarious people hanging around. But there was no one.

Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts once more. “They say folks is dyin’ to get here. Me, I’m dyin’ to get away, to a little town out west that’s spankin’ new.”

Wally’s jaw dropped. He knew that the newsies danced on random occasions, but singing? He didn’t expect that. He sat, knowing that the time assassin wouldn’t kill Jack with Crutchie around. And if Wally had anything to do with it, then he wouldn’t kill Jack at all.

“Close your eyes. Come with me. Where it’s clean and green and pretty.” Wally could hear all of Jack’s dreams laid out bare for two unexpected people to hear.

“There’s a life that’s worth the livin’. And I’m gonna do my share! Work the land! Chase the sun! Swim the whole Rio Grande just for fu-u-un!” Wally felt slightly guilty listening to something so personal, but it was worth it of he could save his new friend.

“Just hold on, kid, ‘til that train makes Sa-anta Fe.” The morning bell tolled, and Wally scooted towards the ladder to the roof. “Hey, Specs! Racer, Henry, Albert, Elmer! Get a move on! Them papes don’t sell themselves!”

Wally waited for Crutchie to climb down the ladder before he made his move.

“Oh, hey, Wally,” Crutchie said.

“I, uh, need to talk to Jack,” Wally said.

“Oookaaay,” Crutchie walked into the Lodge.

Wally started climbing the ladder, then had an idea. “Hey, Jack, I need to talk to you!”

Jack stuck his head over the ladder. “Okay?”

Wally finally reached the top of the ladder. He was at a total loss about what to say to Jack, given that he came up here on a whim. “It’s, uh, about selling spots! You, uh, haven’t told me where to sell. Or how to sell. Or who to sell to…”

Jack looked completely off-guard. “Youse…just come sell with me. I’ll teach ya the ropes.”

Secretly, Wally was happy. With or without the strike, he had an excuse to stay by Jack’s side all day. Suddenly he heard a slight noise, like a pebble being dislodged off a roof. Wally whipped his head around, but there was nothing in the pre-dawn light.

Jack was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. “Sorry, I thought I heard something.”

“Is that all?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” he said and cleared his throat. “Uh, after you.”

When they walked through the roof access door, everyone was out already, in front of the Lodge, waiting for Jack, Wally supposed.

Wally was trailing behind Jack like a small puppy, but when he pushed open the front door, he did not get what he was expecting.

As soon as Jack stepped out of the threshold, he started singing. Again.

“It’s a crooked game we’re playin’, one we’ll never lose. ‘Long as suckers don’t mind payin’, just to get bad news.” Jack sang.

Before Wally could say anything, the other newsies joined in, too.

“Ain’t it a fine life, carryin’ the banner through it all. A mighty fine life, carryin’ the banner tough and tall. When that bell rings, we goes where we wishes, we’s as free as fishes, sure beats washin’ dishes. What a fine life, carryin’ the banner home-free all.” An unfortunate rich looking lady and her friend walked by, perfectly posed to get incessantly hit on. Which is what Romeo and Jack immediately did, of course.

“Well, hello, hello, hello, beautiful,” Romeo said.

“Woah, step aside, Romeo. Nothin’ more concerns you here.” Jack said, shoving his friend out of his way. “Mornin’, miss. May I interest you in the latest news?”

“The paper isn’t even out yet,” she said.

“Oh, but I’d be delighted to deliver it to you poisynally,” Jack said, stepping closer to the pair who was about to walk away.

Her friend looked like he was about to do something that’d probably get him a black eye, but the lady held up her hand. “I’ve got a headline for you: ‘Cheeky Boy Gets Nothing For His Troubles’.” She retorted.

Jack just walked away, still eyeing the lady.

“Hey, Crutchie,” Finch said, “what’s your leg say? Gonna rain?”

Crutchie shook his bad leg experimentally. “Uhh…no rain. Oh-oh, partly cloudy, clear by evenin’.”

“They oughta bottle this guy!” Finch cried.

“Yeah, and the limp sells 50 papes a week, all by itself.” Race added.

Crutchie looked slightly offended. “I don’t need the limp to sell papes. I got personality.” He stopped, and Wally had a feeling as to what was going to come next. “It takes a smile that spreads like butter, the kind that turns a lady’s head.”

Wally stalked over to an empty corner, trying to find an empty space to talk with Sara. “Hey, Sara,” he said into his comms.

“Wally? The kid’s not dead, is he?” Sara’s reply came quick.

“Thanks for believing in me, Sara,” he joked.

“Update? Did you find our time assassin?”

“No, but I think I heard him on the roof earlier, right after you said he was going to murder Jack.”

“Of course he was there. You kinda have to be present to assassinate someone. And since—is that singing?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I think we’ve found a group of people weirder than us, Sara.”

“Hey, what’s the holdup? Waiting makes me antsy, I likes livin’ chancey!” Finch yelled.

“I’ll take your word on that,” Sara said.

Suddenly(and finally), the group started moving, to what Wally hoped was Newsie Square. “Gotta go, Sara.”

“Alright, just remember to be safe.” The mic crackled, and Mick’s voice came over the speaker. “Hey! Tell that little punk I want my dollar back!” Wally could hear Sara slap him on the back of the head. “Shut it, Rory.” Wally grinned as he ran to catch up with the newsies.

Much to his chagrin, they didn’t arrive at the square. It was a couple of nuns handing out coffee and biscuits. Oh, thank God! Wally thought. I’m starving! He made a mental note to either buy or steal--preferably buy--some food later, to supplement his speedster diet.

Finally, after some singing, dancing, and gymnastics, the newsies finally made it to the circulation gate.

“Hey, look, they’re putting up the headline!” Finch cried.

“I hope it’s bloody, with a nice, clear picture!” Specs replied.

“YEAH!” The boys chorused.

The headline was not, in fact, bloody or with a clear picture. It really read: ‘TROLLEY STRIKE ENTERS 3RD WEEK’. The boys all groaned.

“The trolley strike? Not again,” Elmer whined.

“Man, three weeks of the same story.” Race added.

“They’re killing us with that snoozer.” Finch jumped in, too.

Just then, two decently dressed guys wearing bowler hats that couldn’t be that older than Wally walked up. “Hey! Step aside!” they yelled.

“Oh, dear me!” Race mocked. “What is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night.”

Wally figured these guys weren’t exactly buddy-buddy with the newsies.

“Or could it be…” Crutchie began, and everyone joined in.

“The Delancey brothers!”

“Hey, Oscar!” Finch called, walking up to the one with no vest on. “Word on the street says you and your brother took money to beat up striking trolley workers.”

“So? It’s honest work.” Oscar replied. Some of the newsies scoffed.

“By crackin’ the heads of defenseless workers?” Albert butted in.

“I take care of the guy who takes care of me,” Oscar replied.

Wow, it really is a dog-eat-dog world here, Wally thought.

Race got into his face. “Hey, ain’t your father one of the strikers?”

“I guess he didn’t take care of me.” Oscar pushed Race.

But before Race could retaliate, the other Delancey started attacking Crutchie. “Hey, you want some of that, too? You lousy crip!” He stole Crutchie’s crutch and shoved him to the ground.

Immediately, Jack was on him. He snatched Crutchie’s crutch back. “That is not nice, Morris!”

“Hey, five to one Jack skunks him!” Race cried indignantly, while Albert helped Crutchie up. Wally could feel his body tense up with anger.

“One unfortunate day, you might find you have a bum gam of your own,” Jack continued. “How would you like us picking on you, eh?” Jack turned towards the newsies. “Hey! Hey, maybe we should find out!” He turned back and whacked Morris in the shin with the crutch, and then spun around and whacked Oscar, too. Despite himself, Wally hissed in empathy. The newsies, however, cheered.

“Wait until we get our hands on you!” Oscar threatened.

“You gotta catch me first!” Jack yelled and took off like a shot.

“GO, JACK!” The newsies, including Wally this time, cheered. And then, inevitably, they started dancing again.

“PAPES FOR THE NEWSIES! LINE UP!” An older mustached man yelled.

“Mornin’, Weasel! You missed me?” Jack called at the front of the line.

“The name’s Wiesel,” the man spat.

“Ain’t that what I said?” Jack smirked. “I’ll take the usual.”

“100 papes for the wise guy,” Wiesel called to the Delanceys.

“How’s it going, Weasel?” Race said.

“At least call me ‘mister’.”

“I’ll call you sweetheart if you spot me 50 papes, huh?”

“Drop the cash and move along,” He said threateningly, but Race wasn’t intimidated.

He slapped a few coins on the lockbox. “Whatever happened to romance?” Race said wistfully.

“50 for the Racer. Next!”

The and the other boys went, making various ‘Weasel’ jokes.

Finally, it was Wally’s turn. He said nothing, just lightly placing a quarter on the box.

“Ah, a new kid, huh?” Wiesel said.

“He’s called Speedy,” one of the younger newsies Wally hadn’t met yet called.

“50 papes for Speedy!” Wiesel called.

Another new kid behind Wally with black hair went next. “Would’ya look at this? Two new kids in one day!”

A smaller kid popped out from behind him. “Hey, I’m new, too!”

“Don’t worry, kid, it rubs right off.” Race called.

Albert went next, making a crack about Wiesel getting into the movie business.

The new kid caused some ruckus about being short a paper, which Jack quickly resolved.

Within seconds, Jack was already trying to strike a deal with the two boys.

Wally was only half-listening, really. He was looking around the square for someone who didn’t belong. So far, the most suspicious people he saw were the Delancey brothers and Wiesel, but they didn’t exactly scream ‘time assassin’. Plus they already had a history with the boys, so…jackasses? Totally. Inter-time period assassins? No.

“Newsies! Hit the streets! The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain’t getting any younger!” Jack yelled.

Then Wally, Jack, and the two new kids, Davey and Les, headed out into the streets, gearing up for a day of selling.