#we have venus but shes green so i guess its easier to make her black 😶

[jennrypan]

..I think it's very obvious when a mixed poc listens more to their white parent 😶

The brain dead takes I be seeing in regards to G3 Clawdeen is staggering like..yall don't have enough biracial characters to harp on?? The fuck.

G3 is so outrageously..white and made for white and other white passing people. Idk how to explain it but thats all I see what this show.

(And no. Some lgbt rep doesn't make this a good show. A few steps forward shouldn't ignore the several other steps back. Be so fr.)

It wouldve been GREAT if they just used new characters cuz like..I think we've gotten past the need for reboots, they're NEVER good (and they've made monster high seem far less accepting which..is a choice. And its not even about fashion anymore?? Like..do kids these days not like fashion dolls or something?? Cmon now.)

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Resolution || Solo

For her birthday, Morgan Beck decided it was safe enough to visit Al’s Diner alone. It was eight, an auspicious time only because it after the elderly dinner rush but before students with free Friday’s would come stumbling in to eat away their benders. 

Morgan smudged the snow into her pea coat before walking in. It was a Goodwill find with cat hair from its last life stuck to the wool, but it was still designer, and Morgan prickled in her cheeks to be seen wearing it in town, lest it draw someone’s attention and send rogue ripples into the universe she wouldn’t be able to call back. She couldn’t stomach embracing full-on-frump; her mother had raised her right, except for all the lying, and she worked hard enough at being pretty not to cover it up. No, Morgan wanted to look nice. Just not...too nice. Not ‘hey universe, you almost forgot about me but here I am getting cocky and cozy’ nice. 

The bell over the door jingled as she came in, dulled and muffled with neglect. A tarnish-splotched mirror showed her reflection, warped with self-consciousness and perhaps too big a smile for the venue. Morgan only let herself look at it for a moment; doing anything else would only make her sad.

“Hi Nikha!”

Nikha grabbed a menu without looking up from her notepad. “Sit anywhere you like. Want your tea?”

Morgan hadn’t thought out her evening this far. This time of year, it took her an hour just to decide whether to leave her apartment. She stopped and considered the risks: it was a Thursday, just before the full moon. Thursdays were a little charged with expectation, this close to the weekend, but the waxing period was the time for pulling energy to oneself; going a little fancy would be like swimming out to sea in a crowd. Granted, it was a special Thursday for her, but...

“I didn’t think it was going to be a hard question,” Nikha said.

Morgan gave her brightest apology smile. It was old hat by now, easier than making explanations. “About that. Actually, I would like a hot cocoa, please. With whipped cream.”

“O-kay.” She eyed Morgan, who was holding her smile for good measure, like she might drop her face and shout boo! But the moment passed and Nikha backed towards the kitchen. “Coming right up.”

Morgan ordered a cheeseburger, fat and cooked medium, with hashbrowns instead of fries. 

Having a birthday so close to Christmas meant most Morgan’s parties were attended only by her parents and Mrs. Campell from her mom’s work. After the flood forced them into a new neighborhood, her mom made her a new offer. “I’ll make you anything you want for dinner, as long as it’s something out of the ordinary,” she said. This seemed like an unfair challenge for Morgan, who liked rules as long as they were fair, even the rules of dinner. She asked for burgers and hashbrowns, and stacked the crisp potatoes into her bun when her mother looked underwhelmed with her show of creativity. The next year, Morgan asked for waffles with all the toppings on at once. Another, she had chicken and vegetables doused in maple syrup, though this didn’t quite live up to her imagination. Around fourteen, when Morgan started wrangling oddball friends over for the occasion, she and her mother hatched multi courses together: green beans and bacon, eggplant parm, butter biscuits and chocolate gravy for dipping. If nothing else, it made her known around school for something besides dressing up too much, and this made Morgan sparkle with pride while it lasted. But for herself alone, nothing ever matched this: breakfast and dinner tucked together under a bun. 

“Any desert tonight?” Nikha asked. 

“Yes, please,” Morgan said. “What’s your favorite?”

Nikha rattled off the specials and made a half hearted defense for the chocolate sundae, although they were out of maraschino cherries. 

“What would you want someone to order you for your birthday?” Morgan asked. 

“Easy. That whole damn chocolate cake,” Nikha said, and gestured over her shoulder to a four tier cake iced in crooked swirls and topped with a plastic bow. It took Morgan back to the year she asked for an everything cake, with four cake flavors and three different fillings, all hidden behind ordinary chocolate. Her mom had urged her to do better, and not for the first time Morgan wanted to scream that if it wasn’t good enough for her, she should just decide for herself, and what was so wrong with wanting a cake that was still just a cake anyway? What was so wrong with wanting something nice and normal? 

Morgan’s mother hadn’t told her then. She’d made her the cake and given her an apology by way of a one-armed hug. But Morgan wished she could reach back into their sad, too-small kitchen and shake her. Ask her, was this your stupid way of trying to prepare me? Was this really worth all your energy and power when you could have been fixing our family?

Still, it had been a really nice cake.

“I like the way you think, Nikha,” Morgan said. “I’ll settle for just one slice.”

When the cake appeared on the table, Morgan urged her to have a bite, just one, as a birthday favor, and after enough urging Nikha agreed with a sheepish smile. They looked at each other, and it was almost like bonding.

Morgan paid her bill, tipped well, and watched Nikha’s retreat to the kitchen through the mirror panels. When the coast was clear she took out her candles: black for protection, white for summoning, and purple for remembrance.

She propped them around her in a circle and lit the wicks quickly. The purple one, she squished into the heavy center of her cake. She said her words of cleansing. Her words of blessing. She said the words of gratitude, though her teeth ached to speak them. And at last, she said what she had come to say.

“The bullshit stops here. Not one more year, not one more daughter, not one more fuck-up will I permit from your shadows. I call those responsible to me on my thirty-ninth year. Answer my call.” She reached for the fork, the one Nikha had used, and jabbed it into her dry, peeling cuticles. The blood came quick, and Morgan felt a rush as it connected with the residue of Nikha’s energy, and powered something bigger than she had ever laid her fingers on at her parents’ knee. “Answer my call, by the promises you made and the promises you broke, by the blood we share--” At the edge of Morgan’s attention, Nikha’s body collapsed on the kitchen floor. She’d be fine; it wasn’t like a little saliva and intention could kill a person, at least not that Morgan had been able to guess from her scant reading. But Morgan’s real focus remained on her birthday cake, which had begun to tremble on its plate. Moran raised the fork and flipped through the whole stack of disasters that had followed her here, the secrets that had screwed her over, the pain her family had carried for no good reason, one after the other, she imagined them skewered on the crooked prongs. She stabbed it through the cake flesh, done, and said through her teeth, “So may it be.” 

The cake went still. A drip of wax fell on the icing, and Morgan felt the crackle of energy flutter away. Had she done it? Did she just have to...wait? Or was this one more failure to add to the stack? Somehow, it seemed just about right to Morgan that she couldn’t tell one way or the other. She slumped in her book and picked the candle out, slid the waxy pieces of cake to the corner of her plate, and nibbled at what was left with a clean fork. “Happy thirty-nine, me,” she sighed. “Here’s to not losing everything this year. And to finishing the job.” Morgan swirled a piece into her mouth and let it melt on her tongue. The snow tumbled harder around White Crest and as the buttercream took the edge off Morgan’s disappointment, she found the old bounce in her step and left the diner smiling.

[fictionalsadist]

Day 4-Disney

(almost skipped this one but then I remembered that Gargoyles was made by Disney) ( @pastthevaulteddoors I especially hope you enjoy) 

Based off of Gargoyles  Season 2 Ep 20 Eye of the beholder and Seto takes the role as Xanatos and Yami as Fox. I’m going off of memory of this episode and took some liberties with certain design elements. Please enjoy XD

Seto sat his chin on his threaded fingers. From his place at one head of the long dining table he watched his boyfriend Yami pick from a selection of sweets on a tray being offered to him by Isono. He watched the flicker of the candlelight play across Yami’s wild tri-colored hair and the red, dragon shaped birthmark that covered his left eye. 

Yami looked absolutely regal in his attire of a long sleeved red shirt that clung in all the right places. Paired with a black vest left open and black slacks. 

“Marry me.” 

Yami looked up from the desserts at Seto’s words. Words that sounded more like a command than a question. A sculpted eyebrow raised in silent question.

Seto stood and waved to Isono to fetch the engagement gift he’d prepared for tonight. 

“Why not? We’re compatible. Both ruthless and unstoppable in pursuit of what we want. We’re a solid match.” Seto offered his hand to Yami who took it and Seto gently pulled him from his chair as Isono presented the huge red gemstone with gold inclusions known as “the Eye of Osiris” that Seto had modified into a pendant by tastefully enshrining the precious gem in a golden housing that hug from a gold chain. The eye sized ruby sparkled like an opal in the light of the flames. 

Yami smiled and turned his gaze up to Seto. “What about things like love?” 

Seto smiled and lifted the pendant from the velvet lined box to drape it over Yami’s neck “I think we love each other. As much as two people such as ourselves can.” 

Yami grinned and held the pendant between his thumb and forefinger. Watching the large ruby sparkle in the dim firelight like an opal. 

“Very well. I accept.” Yami old Seto and accepted the kiss from his fiancee

In the months following the engagement Yami’s behavior grew increasingly more erratic. He would disappear every night there was even a sliver of a moon and come back in nothing more than a trench coat and smelling like a butcher shop.

In pure desperation Seto placed a tracker on Yami and from the surveillance tapes of the meat processing plants he was regularly breaking into, found out that Yami was bring changed by the magic of the Eye of Osiris into a large humanoid reptile. 

If that weren’t concerning enough Yami seemed to be getting weaker with every transformation. The nights of the new moon were of little relief. It got to the point that Seto added another tracker but this time it monitored Yami’s vital signs. 

That was how Seto found out that the transformation were killing his fiancee. 

On halloween night he went to Yami as they were supposed to be getting ready for a party. 

“Yami would you mind letting me borrow your engagement gift?” Seto asked as he entered Yami’s room. Yami was standing at the window and staring out at the sky. 

“Why?” Yami asked without turning around. 

“I want to get it engraved-” 

“No!” Yami barked “I-I can’t bear to part with it…”

Seto narrowed his eyes and ignored the moon rising to take its place in the heavens. “I’m afraid I must insist my dear.” 

“No!” Yami snapped and grabbed the pendant as he turned to face Seto. 

Golden light enveloped Yami and he reached out to Seto as an inhuman scream tore itself from his throat and he changed, his body collapsing to the floor as his muzzle and limbs lengthened and scales erupted from his skin. His teeth sharpened into needle like points and some that made ripping meat easier. When it was over steam rose from Yami’s body as he shuddered and panted. 

Seto took a step forward and in a blink Yami stood and leapt out of the window. Seto’s heart froze in his chest as he watched his fiancee plummet only to save himself by grabbing onto the wall of the building across the street and dig his claws into the stone like a gargoyle. 

It took over an hour to track Yami down, even with the tracer. By the time Seto found him Yami had already attracted the attention of the gargoyle Mai and her human detective Ishizu by devouring the food that had been laid out at the venue for a street party the two had been attending. Seto noted that Ishizu was wearing some stupid green robe and silver head piece. The three of them had gone after Yami and Seto had been forced to prevent the detective from shooting Yami. 

Yami had fled then and Seto had called Isono to track him down. He had zero intentions of letting the gargoyle leader and Ishizu interfere so he’d coldly told them to stay out of his way and went after Yami again. 

Like always Mai had refused to back down and they had all tracked Yami to another meat processing plant where he was devouring the frozen carcuses of cows that were hanging from hooks in the freezer. 

Seto flung off his coat to allow his new exosuit to better movement. It enhanced his physical abilities to match the ones Yami now possessed. Yet it still wasn’t enough to get the eye of Osiris from around Yami’s neck. 

When Mai had accused him of Yami being some experiment he’d snapped 

“That’s Yami!” he’d growled. Seeing their shocked expressions he grudgingly admitted to himself that he was running out of time and their assistance could prove useful. “I gave him the Eye of Osiris. It’s changed him in a way I could never have predicted and now...he’s dying. The change is running his metabolism so high his system can’t keep up and if I don’t get that thing off him he’ll just burn out.” 

Mai and Ishizu shared a look and, despite their past conflicts, Mai agreed to help him. Ishizu tagging along even though she trusted Seto even less than Mai. Seto didn’t care about their motivations. As long as they saved Yami he would make a deal with the devil himself. 

They cornered Yami on the roof. The reptilian animal he’d become growling at them in challenge and fear. The drool dripping down his fangs and down his chin. Just like a wild animal who has been cornered Yami fought without reason and without restraint. He threw Mai off the roof and Ishizu struggled on how to confront Yami without her gun.

Mai rose from her fall like an avenging angels and with piercing shriek she dove down and hit Yami square in the chest and forced him back into the lighted sign of the factory. Sparks flew and Yami struggled with Mai and Seto took his moment to leap into the fray and together he and Mai grabbed the Eye and magical energy mixed with the electrical sparks and caused and explosion that flung them both back. 

Seto sat up in time to watch a naked, human Yami collapse to the ground. Ishizu rushed forward and removed her robe to drape it over Yami’s unconscious form. Seto called Isono to bring the helicopter to his location immediately. 

Seto picked Yami up in a bridal carry and held him close. Mai and Ishizu stood together, Mai had one arm wrapped around Ishizu as without the robe she wore clothing unfit for the weather. Seto gazed at the Eye of Osiris still clutched in Mai’s clawed hand. 

But he didn’t have the luxury to pick that fight right now.

Seto clutched Yami tighter against him. “I guess you know my weakness now.” 

“Only you would call love a weakness Kaiba.” Mai admonished and as the helicopter rose up behind Seto, Mai picked Ishizu up and took a running leap off the building to spread her wings and let the air currents carry them off. 

Seto allowed Isono to help him on into the helicopter so they could get Yami the medical help he needed. 

To hell with the Eye, he had the most precious treasure in the world in his arms. 

[sugarplum-lane]

Midnight Patrol (and other childish activities) (bubbles/noodle)

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Episode 1.6: Mudd’s Women

AKA: This Is Your Brain On Venus Drugs

CONTENT WARNING: This episode contains scenes depicting an emotionally abusive relationship (sort of a proto-relationship, technically), involving one person insulting and eventually screaming in the face of another, which is very briefly described in this recap.

Alright, you remember back in Where No Man Has Gone Before when I said that that script was one of three that NBC was presented with to choose from for the second pilot? Well, this is one of the other two. It was not chosen then because the executives didn’t really like the idea of kicking off their new sci-fi show with an episode about a space pimp. Sorry, that’s a bit of inaccurate language on my part. They phrased it as ‘intergalactic pimp.’ 

And really, who can blame them for not liking this one? If I’d been one of those executives back then, I would have thrown this episode out too. Out a window, preferably.

But Roddenberry was never one to be deterred by questions like “are you sure this is appropriate for television” or “are you sure this is appropriate for anything really” or “why, Gene, why” so once the show was underway he pulled out the script again and got to filming. The results...well, they’re not pretty. But here we are.

Our episode begins with the Enterprise chasing down some random tiny unidentified ship that's running away from them. I dunno if they have a reason for going after this ship or if they just saw it fleeing and instinctively chased after it like a cat. Anyway, the Enterprise isn't having any trouble (for once) but the other ship is overtaxing its engines to dangerous levels. They also aren't responding to any of Uhura's hails. Incidentally, Uhura's wearing gold this episode. The Doylist reason for this is that this was one of the first episodes filmed (only the second, following the pilots) and they were still working things out (I guess ‘who wears what uniform’ wasn’t a priority in the design stage). But I like to think that Uhura just showed up in a Command uniform one day and was like, “Aw yeah, I'm taking control of this operation.”

[ID: Uhura sitting at her console, wearing a gold Command uniform.]

Rockin' it.

The two ships enter an asteroid field. The Enterprise is okay, but the little ship isn't; it's finally blown out its engines and can't use its deflectors. In real life, the asteroid belt we know of is so incredibly spread out, and has such a low total mass, that you'd have to be trying to hit something while flying through it. But who has time for real life, eh? Kirk orders Farrell at navigation to cover the ship with the Enterprise's own deflectors, even though Scotty says that will overload their engines. Kirk has them do it anyway. Of course he does.

After the titles, sure enough, the (di)lithium crystals are going one after the other, because someone didn't listen to Scotty. Scotty and Spock are trying to beam the crew of the other vessel aboard, but they're having trouble, until the ship finally sends out a distress signal at the last minute and they're able to get locked onto something. They beam aboard a man who has what I can only describe as an extremely singular sense of fashion.

[ID: A man with a handlebar mustache, a cowboy hat, a single earring, beaded blue pants, a frilly orange shirt open to the navel with a black shirt under it and a giant belt with one enormous belt buckle.]

The man introduces himself as Leo Walsh, and says there are three remaining members of his crew. He's very casual about the fact that said crew is on a ship that is blowing up faster than a marshmallow in a microwave. Meanwhile, yet another crystal has blown, leaving them on battery power. Scotty's having trouble with the transporter. Can't imagine why.

The little ship that couldn't finally goes, first being hit by an asteroid and then blowing up, but Scotty gets the remaining crew onboard in time. They turn out to be three women: one in a red dress, one in a green dress, and one in a purple...sweater...thing. The women stare seductively at the men. McCoy and Scotty stare back, transfixed. Spock looks confused. I feel ya, Spock.

After several tries, Kirk finally gets through to Scotty, and tells him to send the captain to Kirk's quarters if he can walk, and if he can't walk, send him anyway. Spock leads Walsh and the women down the corridor, and along the way everyone stops and stares at them. In the turbolift, Walsh deduces that Spock is part Vulcanian (yes, Vulcanian, they hadn't figured that one out yet either). I dunno how he figured that out since Spock is physically indistinguishable from a full Vulcan (or Vulcanian) but he does. Maybe they originally planned for full Vulcans to look more alien, I dunno. Anyway, Walsh takes that to be the reason why Spock is the only one not affected by these stunningly seductive sirens. You know how it goes, you don’t show conventional attraction, someone goes “oh, you must be an alien” only in this case it’s literal. Unsurprisingly, the same does not turn out to be the case for Kirk, who is obviously extremely taken aback when the three women and their swelling background music walk into his cabin.

Kirk is introduced to Walsh and asks if the women are his crew. No, Walsh says. They're his cargo. Um.

After the break Kirk gives a captain's log about how seriously distracting these women are and sends them out of his cabin so he can concentrate. Spock, meanwhile, may not be affected by the strange “magnetic effect” the women have, but he is clearly highly amused by all this.

[ID: Spock leaning against a doorway with his arms crossed, head tilted, eyebrows raised, and generally just looking extremely sassy. Offscreen, Kirk is saying, “...on the male members of my crew...” ]

Walsh explains to Kirk that he only evaded the Enterprise because hey, you're flying a tiny little cargo ship, giant armed starship pulls up alongside you, what are you going to do. Not run away? That’s ridiculous. Kirk isn't interested in this explanation, though, and tells Walsh that he's convening a hearing on his actions and in the meantime he'll be confined to quarters. Although first we have to find some quarters, presumably.

On the bridge, Sulu and Farrell are going on about how compelling the women are, but Scotty's distracted by his one true love: the Enterprise. Specifically, that she's in pretty bad shape: they lost two crystals and the last remaining one is cracked, and they can't fix it because, uh, they broke something else. Honestly, the amount of times this happens, you'd think they'd start keeping spare crystals onboard.

Walsh meets up with the women in a briefing room, under the watchful eyes of two redshirts who are thankfully managing to still do their jobs, unlike most of the men in this episode. The women are freaking out, pointing out that they lost their ship, they're going in the wrong direction, and now they're on trial, and what are they going to do? Walsh tries to calm them down while clumsily trying to avoid saying anything too suspicious in earshot of the security guards. In particular he tells the women not to submit to any medical checks, and cuts one of them off when she asks, “But what about the--” Then another one calls him Harry. Whoops.

Scotty explains the dire engine situation to Kirk, bitterly bemoaning that Walsh not only destroyed his own ship but screwed up the Enterprise too. He even calls Walsh a jackass. Wow, language, Scotty. You can’t swear like that in the 60s. Even if it’s the Future 60s.

So with only one crystal left, and that one with a limited lifespan since it's channeling the entire ship's power on its own, they've got no choice but to go to a nearby mining facility and pick up some more crystals. Again. It's a good thing there are so many mining facilities scattered around the galaxy for the Enterprise to plunder. At least we don't have any irritating godlike beings that we have to abandon on this one. Although there’s an irritating regular being aboard that I’m sure Kirk would be pretty eager to abandon somewhere.

In the meantime, Kirk gets the hearing underway, though not before taking a moment to complain about the hypnotic effect the women are having on all the men. He doesn't do anything about it, though (you'd think he could put bags over their heads or something, I dunno), and naturally the hearing board is comprised entirely of men. Well, at least we've got Spock here.

Spock starts up the magic computer and tells Walsh to state his name for the record. But when he does, the computer says that's incorrect. See? I told you it was magic. Under pressure, Walsh finally reveals that his real full name is Harcourt Fenton Mudd. Which is pretty great, I dunno why you'd keep that hidden. Aside from all the criminal charges. Mudd insists he doesn't have any past offenses, but the computer says that's also incorrect, and brings up a police report. Apparently he's been convicted of smuggling, transport of stolen goods, and purchase of a vessel with counterfeit currency. And his sentence was...psychiatric treatment. Wow. I bet that went well.

Kirk says Mudd is charged with piloting a ship without a flight plan or identification beam and failing to answer a starship's signal, which makes him a menace to navigation. Also he was traveling without a license. Mudd says that the real Leo Walsh was going to be the captain of the ship, but he died suddenly (hmm) and Mudd was forced to take the ship out himself. And assumed Walsh's name as a courtesy to him. That's...a pretty weird way of paying your respects.

While all this is going on, the women are distracting the men by dialing up the seduction. This is one of those instances where the medium is kind of working against itself. It's an awful lot easier to write that a woman is supernaturally, hypnotically beautiful than to show that on screen with a regular human woman in some makeup. I mean, there's just only so much you can do with a soft focus.

Kirk asks Mudd what exactly it was that he was doing anyway, and Mudd reveals that he recruits wives for settlers. In other words, he's essentially running a mail-order bride company. Well, I doubt that it's any kind of legitimate company, but you get my drift.

The impetus for this whole thing is that Star Trek was conceived as a space western (wagon train to the stars!), and settlers in the wild west advertising for wives to come join them was a common thing, so they were playing off that. Apparently at no point did it occur to anybody that wholesale transplanting societal elements of the wild west into a space show taking place in the ENLIGHTENED FUTURE was not, perhaps, the best idea. So we get...this whole thing, and trust me, it only gets worse as the episode goes on.

No one really reacts to this revelation very much, although that's perhaps not surprising considering no one really reacted to Mudd referring to the women as his cargo earlier. Kirk asks the magic computer for information on the women. It doesn't have any, so he asks it to turn the sensor probe on them. The computer says it doesn't get anything from the women, but then it goes on to volunteer the information that the male crew members are all showing signs of, well, arousal. Seriously, it just says this entirely of its own volition. That is one passive-aggressive computer.

Kirk finally gets around to asking if the women are here voluntarily, and Mudd says of course they are—and this time the magic computer doesn't contradict him so he's probably telling the truth. We also finally get some names for them: Ruth in the green dress, Eve in the red dress, and Magda in the purple thing. Eve talks about how they all came from planets with no, or very few, men, and she personally had a miserable existence keeping house for her two brothers with little more than automated farm machines for company. And that does sound pretty rough! So instead, they're going to...go keep house for husbands on frontier planets with little more than automated machines for company. But that's better, because, uh...something. Eve at least does call the guys out on spending the entire episode ogling the three of them, but it's not going to get much better.

Kirk plans to hand Mudd over to the authorities for illegally operating a vessel. The women aren't being charged, but they're kinda stuck and not getting where they want to go. Eve begs Kirk to help them, but he puts her off (and addresses her by her last name, although that was never brought up—evidence grows for Kirk being able to read minds) and then gets distracted by the last crystal blowing out. So now they're running entirely on battery power. Great.

Mudd sees this as a golden opportunity, because now he has new husbands to offer the women: the miners that they're going to see on Rigel-12. The miners are lonely and isolated and, apparently, quite rich, so Mudd sees them as prime candidates. He exults to the women about how rich they're going to be, and says that he is going to be running the Enterprise and Kirk will soon be taking orders from him. I...don't know how he plans to accomplish that, but he seems pretty confident.

Kirk has Mudd confined to his quarters, but the women are free to roam around the ship seducing the men. Only men are mentioned: all of the men are affected, and none of the women are. Because here on the Enterprise we only have straight people, apparently.

Ruth stops by Sickbay to pester McCoy, not that he's real upset about this. As she walks by one of the scanners, it wigs out and starts beeping and flashing dots. Like Scotty and his warp engines, if there's one thing that can distract McCoy under any circumstances it's medicine, so his attention is quickly drawn to that and he asks Ruth to walk by it again. She does, and it does the same thing. McCoy says it's not supposed to do that. Well I would hope not, because it's not very helpful. He asks if she's wearing some weird perfume or anything radioactive. “Ah, yes, my uranium necklace, I forgot about that.”

With that mystery unresolved, Kirk walks into his quarters to find Eve stretched out on his bed. Seriously people, put some locks on your doors or something. Eve says she was taking a walk but had to find a place to duck into because all the men were staring at her. Which would make me want to hide too, but not in the captain's quarters. Anyway, Kirk and Eve have some typical Star Trek cheesy romantic dialogue, but it takes an unexpected turn when Eve suddenly pulls away and declares that she can't do this, no matter what Mudd says, and she hates the whole thing. Then she storms off, leaving Kirk looking pretty perplexed, since this is not how these things usually go for him.

Mudd is gathering intel from Magda and Ruth, who between them have found out that there are three miners on Rigel-12, that they're all young and healthy, and that their leader is named Ben Childress. Mudd's pretty happy with his plans so far, but then Eve comes in and starts to chew him out. She doesn't get very far, though, stricken with some sudden affliction that has her leaning against the wall and moaning about how it must be near the time. Oh my god, they're werewolves! Nah, probably not. That would actually be interesting.

Up on the bridge, Kirk is getting irritated at having to deal with his seriously distracted crew. He asks if McCoy examined Eve, but McCoy says she refused. Which surprises Kirk, because it's not like McCoy usually lets that stop him. The two of them have a conversation about the mysterious women, with McCoy wondering if they really are actually that beautiful or if there's something else going on. He briefly considers the possibility that they might be “alien illusions.” Keep in mind this was only the third episode filmed, so it's pretty impressive that the characters have already started to identify what will be running themes in their lives.

Anyway, for now McCoy doesn't manage to do anything but confuse both Kirk and himself. Meanwhile, Magda has acquired a communicator, which Mudd uses to contact Rigel-12. Speaking of Rigel-12, the Enterprise has finally reached it, but Spock says they can only sustain their orbit for three days. I feel like that's not how orbits work, but what do I know.

In Mudd's cabin, he's frantically searching for something in a chest of drawers, while the women look on desperately, for you see, they are becoming...less attractive. Well, kind of. Ruth looks a bit haggard, but Magda just kinda looks like her hair's a bit messed up, and Eve mostly looks tired. But they’re no longer in soft focus, a terrible fate for any TOS woman.

[ID: Ruth, a white woman with long, somewhat frizzled black hair and some shadows under her eyes, holding her hands up to her chin with an anguished expression and saying, “Look at my face.” ]

The women are demanding some kind of pills, which Mudd seems to have misplaced, although Eve calls them a cheat anyway. Eventually Mudd finds them under the mattress and gives a couple to Ruth and Magda. (They dry swallow them. Ew.) He has to talk Eve into taking one, though. Magda and Ruth are seeing the effects already: Ruth's complexion has cleared up and Magda's hair has magically done itself. Mostly, though, we know that they've gone from Unattractive to Attractive because their sultry background music is back. Eve looks at the pill in her hand unhappily, but we don't see her take it.

Spock, in a rare and rather bizarre case of sentimentalism, is looking over a spent crystal and musing that it's beautiful and it's a shame it had to be destroyed. Spock's not interested in superpowerfully beautiful women, but he appreciates a good shiny rock. Kirk points out that it was a choice between destroying the crystal or destroying Mudd's ship. Except his ship got destroyed anyway so that didn't work out real well all around.

The miners come in to chat with Kirk. He says he's authorized to pay them well for the crystals, but Childress, the head dude, says the miners might be looking to swap instead. What, is this a barter economy now? “Alright, I'll pay you ten chickens for each crystal.”

Actually, it turns out the miners want the women. But of course, they want to take a look at them first to see if they're to the miners' liking, so Childress tells Kirk to “trot them out.” Jesus fucking Christ, have we turned into a slave market over here? What is wrong with you people?

Oh, and Childress says that he's agreed to have the charges on Mudd dropped. How he has the authority to do this is not explained. I guess he has a lot of money, but that paints a depressing view of the enlightened future if people are still capable of just buying their way out of things. Kirk is so surprised and perplexed by all this that he bursts out laughing, while Spock just kind of sits down with a 'here we go' look on his face. Kirk says there's no deal, but Childress says without the women there'll be no crystals. Kirk starts to point out that not cooperating with the Federation could backfire pretty badly on the miners, but before he can get too far Mudd bursts in with all three women in tow. Kirk's desperate attempt to cut all this off is halted by the lights dimming, a sign that they're on half battery power now. Mudd points out that Kirk's got no choice: he needs those crystals or he's not going anywhere except into a rapidly decaying orbit and eventually the planet's surface.

After the break, Kirk, Spock and Mudd beam down to the planet to deal with the miners. It's a pleasant looking place, really the kind of planet you'd like to spend your whole life on.

[ID: A rocky, desolate, wind-blasted landscape, with a pinkish sky and three small domed buildings sticking up from the rocks, barely visible through air filled with dust. Offscreen, Kirk is saying, “Transporting down to surface of planet Rigel-12...” ]

Inside the nearby living unit, which looks bizarrely like a cave from the inside, Ruth and Magda are paired off with a couple miners, giggling and stroking their shoulders and doing that kind of thing, while Eve is sitting unhappily in a corner. Kirk admits to Childress that he's won, he'll make the deal, now can he please have some crystals. Childress smirks at him that he'll get the crystals when he has time, because they're busy now. Listen, you smug jackass, you want a half-mile long spaceship loaded with extremely explosive fuel to crash into your planet? That'd do your mining operation a whole lot of good, wouldn't it?

Childress tries to chat up Eve, to little avail. The other miners start to dance with Magda and Ruth, but Eve declines Childress's offer, causing him to stomp across the room and pull Ruth away from her partner. Which causes another miner to pull Magda away from her partner. Poor Eve, meanwhile, looks absolutely miserable, hunched over by the wall on the verge of tears. When a fight breaks out among the miners, Eve runs over to the door, screams, “Why don't you just hold a raffle and the loser gets me?!” and then runs outside. This is bad because Rigel-12 sucks at the best of times, but right now a magnetic storm's kicking up and the dust is even worse than usual. Childress yells at Kirk that if he goes outside he'll be killed but, come on, like that's ever stopped Kirk.

Kirk and Eve stumble dramatically through the rocks, and Childress comes out after them, gaping uselessly. You'd think the miners at least would have, like, goggles and breath masks, but nope. Anyway, they can't find Eve, and then Childress gets lost too, so Kirk goes back up to the Enterprise to try and find them with their scanners, but the magnetic storm is causing interference and they're not having much luck. Unfortunately this is draining the batteries even faster, so now they only have about five hours of power left. GEE, IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD DELIVERED THE CRYSTALS LIKE THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO.

Down on the planet, Childress has found Eve and carried her back inside. But the magnetic storm has caused communications to go down, so he can't tell the Enterprise that. Although he probably wouldn't anyway, cause he's a jerk. Eventually, with only about forty minutes of power left, they locate lifesigns in Childress's quarters and go to beam down.

Inside, Childress wakes up from an uncomfortable bench-nap to find Eve cooking. He complains that she moved stuff; she says that she did some chores for him. Then he complains that he does his own cooking. Then when he tastes it he says his cooking is better. Then, when Eve says his pan was super crusted and gross, he says he couldn't wash it because they don't have any decent water (what do they drink?) Eve finally gets him to shut up by saying he could hang the pans outside and get them sand-blasted clean. He rolls his eyes at this, but later we see him doing it. I dunno how well that would work since this world seems to be more dusty than sandy, but at least it made Childress stop talking.

Now, I’m only a struggling milennial myself, so forgive my naivete, but what in the goddamn hell is the point of being so rich if you’re living like this? All throughout the episode we’re told that the miners are incredibly wealthy, yet they’re living in absolutely hideous conditions that they clearly don’t enjoy. If they’re so rich, why not make some other people do all the work and suffering for them? That’s what rich people usually do, to my understanding.

Anyway, inside, Eve is playing Double Jack (whatever that is) with round cards, because this is THE FUTURE. Childress quickly goes back to his charming ways, first saying she's not even good company, then asking what happened to her looks, because oh my God, a woman who's been through a dust storm doesn't look astoundingly glamorous, how dare she. He gets right up in her face, screaming about how ugly she looks and how he's so rich he could buy queens, because I guess all women are for sale in this universe.

Thankfully, this display is interrupted by Kirk and Mudd coming in. Childress is quick to say that he didn't touch Eve. Well, that makes everything alright then. Emotional abuse, pshaw.

Kirk demands that Mudd tell Childress the truth about something called the Venus Drug. Mudd splutters that it's actually a relatively harmless drug, it just turns you into a toxic wasteland full of sulfuric acid. Oh no, sorry, Venus like the god, not Venus like the planet. Actually, Mudd says, the drug “gives you more of whatever you have.” Men get more aggressive and muscular, women get rounder and more feminine. I'm not making this up, that's literally what he says. I’m so sorry.

Childress is absolutely horrified to discover that all the women are naturally as shockingly hideous as Eve, and asks what happened to his partners, in a tone that suggests that he thinks the women ate them. Kirk says they've already gotten married by subspace radio, causing Childress to flip out and try to attack Mudd, but Kirk pulls him back and says that the marriages were frauds so the miners can get out of it. I guess no-fault divorce doesn’t exist in the enlightened future.

Childress splutters about the injustice of how he went out to rescue a woman who dares to look slightly less pretty than she did previously. And I mean, Eve looks pretty much exactly the same except her hair isn't brushed and she has less makeup on. That's it. That's literally it. This whole thing would be just as stupid no matter what she looked like, but Childress is acting like she grew horns and her skin fell off.

[ID: Eve, a white woman with long and slightly messy blonde hair and dressed in a sparkly pink sleeveless dress, looking tiredly at the camera.]

Eve's finally had enough and screams at Childress that he doesn't want a wife, he wants the perfect ideal of a woman exemplified by the Venus Drug. To prove this to him, she gulps down three of them at once, then, after a long pause, turns around. Gasp! Her makeup and coiffed hair and sultry background music are back. She asks if this is what Childress really wants—not a real wife to cook and sew for him (as all wives do) but someone who's “selfish, vain, useless.” Childress bitterly muses that such a woman is only “a fake, pumped up by a drug” but then Kirk reveals that actually, no—they replaced the real Venus Drug with a placebo. Believing that she had taken the drug was enough to make Eve beautiful, because confidence and self-esteem will do your hair and makeup for you.

At any rate, Kirk's tired of giving DARE programs to bit characters and tells Childress he better hand over the crystals before the Enterprise crashes into this lovely little domestic scene. Childress finally concedes the crystals and, when Spock asks how many people are beaming up, he says that Eve can stay with him. How generous. Eve agrees, although not terribly enthusiastically, so Kirk and Mudd head out, with a bit of snarking first.

Back on the ship they've finally got things working again, and Spock says he's glad this whole business is over, calling it “a most annoying emotional episode.” Yeah, you and me both, Spock.

There's so much awfulness going on in this episode I don't even know where to start. You have the constant objectification of the women by everyone from the cast to the camera. You have the way the women are treated like property to be traded, examined, and discarded for being faulty. You have immediate shock and horror if the women are ever anything but perfectly made-up and appealing. Even Eve's whole speech to Childress at the end is bad; first, when she accuses him of not really wanting a wife, she frames the idea of a wife not as being an equal partner but as being someone useful to their husband. Then, rather than pointing out that the effects of the Venus Drug only make for a fake, unrealistically idealized idea of a woman, she says that the problem is that any woman that beautiful would automatically be selfish, vain, and useless. It comes off less as “you should look at women as real people and not walking pinup girls meant only to fulfill your desires” and more “you should try to attain a woman that's useful to you rather than focusing on looks alone.”

And then you have the implicit assumption throughout the entire episode that every woman needs a man. The circumstances the women originally came from don't sound real great and you wouldn't blame them for wanting to get away from that, but the emphasis is not on them wanting to leave because the situation was lousy, it's them wanting to leave because there were no men. And what is a woman supposed to do without a man to marry? The women are so desperate to have husbands, any husbands, that they place themselves in the hands of a sleazy conman to get delivered to men they've never met—men whose identities are so inconsequential that the women don't care when they're replaced on the fly. At the end the women are all back to living in pretty shitty circumstances. No one would want to live on Rigel-12! It sucks! You're stuck in tiny, cave-like dwellings with few resources, not even enough water to do dishes, half the time you can't go outside and the other half the time you wouldn't want to! Oh, and to top it off, the episode ends with Eve staying with a man who was literally screaming emotional abuse into her ear ten minutes ago. Are we honestly supposed to believe this is a happy ending for anyone? But it's all okay now because they have husbands, so their roles as women are fulfilled. And I’m sure that Childress will go from being a horrible sexist jerk to a good partner now that he’s been shouted at for five minutes.

And the whole thing just...doesn't make sense. We're clearly supposed to believe that the Venus Drug has some kind of real, tangible effect. The women spend most of the episode having a siren-like effect on every man they encounter. And while Magda and Eve never went much beyond having messy hair, they at least put enough makeup on Ruth when she was off the drug to make a clear physical change take place. But at the end it turns out that it was just...self-confidence? Or something? Self-confidence so strong it can do your hair and makeup for you? Heck, what about Ruth setting off McCoy's medical scanner? That never gets explained. Or the fact that taking the Venus drug is apparently enough to qualify for fraud, judging by what Kirk said about those divorces.

The only thing this episode has going for it (aside from Spock's expressions) is Harry Mudd himself, in large part thanks to Roger C. Carmel's gleefully over the top acting. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to defend him as a person—but you don't have to be a great person to make for a great character. And in a weird, paradoxical kind of way, there's something I find enjoyably different about Mudd as a character. TOS tends to take place on a pretty large scale—its antagonists are usually serious threats, when they're not incomprehensibly powerful, while its protagonists are called upon to be heroes fighting for peace and life and human ideals. There's nothing wrong with that, it works for the show, but it's kind of nice to occasionally run into an antagonist who's not threatening entire planets, just doing small-time crime to make a quick buck. It makes the world feel more fleshed out, like things are still going on at other levels than we usually see. Our heroes may be dealing with godlike beings and scary monsters and philosophical quandaries, but out there in the galaxy people are still living their fairly normal lives. And some of those people suck, because they're people and that's how people work. I just wish they could have had him running a less incredibly cringe-inducing con.  

The other thing I like about Mudd is his interactions with Kirk. He really brings out Kirk's sarcastic, impatient side, and it's a lot of fun to watch. Kirk is immediately 100% done the moment Mudd walks into the room, but normally when Kirk gets fed up with a situation he has to rein it in to be diplomatic or captain-like or cool under pressure or whatever. He has no such need to hold it back with Mudd, so he just gets to be as snarky as he wants and it's wonderful.

TREK TROPE TALLY: None this time--crew death count for this episode is, once again, zero, unless someone died of embarrassment offscreen. Next time we'll get back onto firm pondering-the-nature-of-humanity ground with What Are Little Girls Made Of?

[fireandseaweed]

One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor || Jason and Percy

Jason and Percy get shit faced after the news about the Bill breaks.

Percy had been drinking in the ‘Spoils of War’ for several years now. It was basically a club for demigods that had killed enough monsters to earn their entry into the bar. Both Percy and Jason had earned positions on the wall of fame. The skull of the Trojan Sea Monster that Jason had killed was still mounted on the wall behind the bar, as he pushed open the door, Percy stepped towards the bar and held up two fingers. “Two tequilas senora,” the barmaid gave the two regulars a look that said she didn’t want to know why they were drinking before noon, before filling up two slightly greasy shot glasses with the golden liquor and placing a lime wedge on top. “Salt is over there,” she grunted nodding towards a cupboard behind them. Turning to Jason, Percy lifted up his shot. “To your good health.”

The minute Percy turned the corner to the entrance of Spoils of War, Jason breathed a sigh of relief. They’d both long since earned membership to the elite bar; and due to the incredibly strict membership policy they were unlikely to be disturbed. He waved to the familiar bartender as she filled their shot glasses, “Might as well leave the bottle,” he muttered, sliding a handful of golden coins across the bar towards her, “we’re going to need it.” He grabbed the salt and poured a small amount on his hand before clinking his shot glass against Percy’s, “and to yours likewise.” Before downing the burning liquid and taking a bite of the lime. “Gods I love this place.” He looked at their individual portraits in the wall of fame, his looking younger and more carefree, “Seems like a lifetime ago we got on that wall.”

Percy stared at his own portrait for a second, he couldn’t help but wonder if the gore splattered but smiling warrior up there was the same one as the demigod sat at the sticky bar. Clinking his glass against Jason’s, he downed his shot and licked the salt before biting down on the lime. “Pool?” he asked before sanding and making his way over to the faded green felt table, racking up the balls he poured he and Jason another drink and looked at it contemplatively. “I thought that this would be the one place where they didn’t care if you are Greek or Roman,” all they’d care about was how many monsters you’d brought trophies in for. Aside from Annabeth and Reyna, Percy didn’t know anyone who came close to his or Jason’s trophy count. Swallowing the shot, he throw his friend a pool cue. “Your break hermano.”

As Jason sauntered over to the pool table he looked at the wall one last time; the glowing numbers under his and Percy’s names ever so close, even if he was winning slightly. “All that matters is the ichor on your weapon.” He knocked shoulders with Percy he watched his friend rack up the balls. “Remember before life got crazy and we used to come here all the time.” He caught the pool cue easily and lined up his shot, listening as the sharp crack of the balls cut through the electronic music playing in the empty dim bar. He watched carefully as a solid ball fell in the pocket. “You’re stripes then, dude.” He took a swig from the bottle and winced, “Life used to be so fucking easy. This is a mess.”

Watching as Jason effortlessly caught the pool cue, Percy couldn’t help the lopsided smirk that crossed his lips. “I remember spending whole summer days hunting and then dragging our spoils back before drinking until the sun came up,” as he heard the crack of the balls smacking against one another, Percy took up his pool cue and lined up his own shot, the white ball sailed across the well worn felt and crashed into a striped ball which bounced off the corner and settled precariously close to the pocket. Taking the bottle from Jason, Percy swallowed another mouthful and winced on queue as the liquor burned the back of his throat. “Well, I’ve got to say that things were easier when the only thing we had to worry about was killing the biggest and baddest monster out there. It is weird that at under 30 we are already thinking about the ‘glory’ days.”

Jason laughed uproariously at the memories, “21 and singing war songs as we dragged dragon corpses through the streets then getting shitty drunk off cheap beer until sunrise. Gods we had fun.” He laughed again and took his shot, cursing as the ball he was trying to sink missed the pocket entirely. “We did have some glory days. But I think we’ve still got some glory left in us. At the very least we’ve got some shining days ahead where we crush this anti-Greek sentiment.” He wandered up to the bar and ordered a basket of peanuts for them to eat. “Gods I missed this, Percy. I missed us and Annabeth drinking and having no cares in the world. Being young and carefree before political responsibility and riots and all this shit.” He took another swig and cracked a peanut, chowing down and sighing. “All of this is just……… fuck.”

As Jason wandered about the table, Percy held uncharacteristically still. He evaluated the table, chose his shot and was rewarded with a ball sinking into the pocket. Finally. “I remember you turning up to battle without a t shirt on after one of those nights of drinking,” he smirked good naturedly as he took a peanut and chewed on it thoughtfully, “I remember Annabeth judo slamming a former centurion when he tried to hard to one up her…” this bar held so many good memories for them. “Wanna know what makes it all worse?” He said with a flat laugh, fishing in his pocket he pulled out the ring he was going to give Annabeth on the steps of the Open Hearth, but they’d been interrupted before he could. “I was going to ask her to marry me and all this shit happened.” It was hard not to feel miserable after that.

Watching as Percy sank his shot perfectly, Jason rewarded him by flipping him off across the table. “And was rewarded for my hangover and missing shirt by a awful scar across my back.” His hand rubbed across it under his shirt and he smiled at the memory. So much of their late teenage years had been spent here; demigod life tended to ignore drinking ages. He spun his cue idly before lining up his shot and sinking a bright blue ball. He sighed deeply as Percy brought the ring out of his pocket, “We’ll make this right, man. You’ll get your perfect proposal and we’ll make, somehow, the world see that demigods are demigods; regardless of patrimony.” He bent to look more closely at the ring, smiling wanly, ��It looks beautiful, man. You choose well.” He sighed slowly, weighing some options in his head “Full disclosure… I slept with one of the centurions that helped with the raid before it happened. I haven’t talked to him since…. but it did happen.”

Sighing gently at the middle finger that Percy received from his friend, he bowed low in reply before wincing as Jason retaliated by pocketing another ball. “Well I am pretty sure you inspired several demigods that day, if nothing else.” He pauses to chew on a peanut before continuing.“I guess it wasn’t the right time and when the right time eventually does come along then I will do it, I can imagine that lady Aphrodite is having a field day with all of this, it must be such a juicy love story for her.” He sighed gently at the thought and took another shot before taking the bottle and swigging at it until everything felt that bit more fuzzy. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he shrugged. “Which one?” He asked. “Don’t worry, I don’t care, you can sleep with whoever you want as long as they treat you right. Besides orders are orders, the centurions aren’t at fault really. I think it is more the senate and the powers behind the senate that are the problem.”

The pool game was nice. It smacked of tradition and Jason found himself regretting not wearing the purple letterman’s jacket that Percy had gotten him when they’d become full members of the bar. The number in its back changed to reflect his kill count, and it was one of the most comfortable things he’d ever worn. “everyone always loves a shirtless demigod screaming and summoning great gouts of lightning.” He shook his head, a brittle laugh escaping from his lips, “She probably is. I never know if she loves the love or the angst more. Knowing her it’s probably both at once.” He sauntered past and snatched the bottle from Percy’s hand, already comfortably tipsy but determined to be even more so. “Callum. I was a little drunk. We were texting. One thing led to another… you know how it goes.” He shook his head bitterly as he took another shot, “Centurions should know when orders given are not orders to be followed. Though the Senate is equally at fault.”

Percy hadn’t changed since he’d been taken in after the raid, but he too missed his own jacket. A mixture of a greeny-blue and black, looking at it always reminded him of the ocean floor. “Hey, even I was a bit turned on by that display, the monsters probably died because they were so distracted by dem abs,” he winked sloppily and smirked lopsidedly once more before slumping onto a stool for a moment. “Do you want a beer?” he asked before ordering Jason one anyway. “Both sounds right when it comes to her Greek form, Venus is an entirely different matter, she is much more difficult to read.” Shrugging Percy couldn’t find it in him to be mad about it. “Shit happens,” he grunted as the barmaid handed him a pint of beer that he took a long slurp from, “I don’t blame you, you didn’t know he was a demigod racist and besides he is pretty enough, I can understand why you picked him.”

Jason laughed uproariously and gestured to his abs with the tequila bottle “Listen, Jackson, you had your chance at these abs yeeeeeears ago and you threw it away for a relationship based on mutual love, respect, and trust so you can just suffer the loss, bucko.” He took the beer that Percy offered him, holding the tequila in one hand and the beer in the other, shrugging and taking alternating sips, “yeah. Shit happens. I was drunk and there were some dick pics and yeah. But now that I know he’s a demigod racist I feel pretty shitty about it. In drunk me’s defense…. it’s been awhile.” He set the tequila down and focused on the beer; this was a marathon not a sprint. “Next time we do talk though…. someone might get a bolt of lightning to the face.”

Shaking his head, Percy pushed Jason gently before snatching the bottle of tequila and chugging a mouthful. Washing it down with a swig of beer he got off the stool to take his shot. “If you had a better six pack then Annabeth then I’d have been all over you, but it is about quality and not just quantity and Annabeth has some real definition.” He took his shot with the pool cue and then took a literal shot of tequila. Smirking fuzzily, he placed an arm round his friend and shook his head. “You didn’t know he was a dick. I mean you did, but you get what I mean. Stop acting like you’re not allowed to make mistakes and make sure you zap him real good next time he tries to booty call you. Callum and I do not get along well. Despite my many efforts.”

“My six pack looks like it was literally sculpted by the goddamn gods. Don’t you stand there and tell me that it’s not the most amazing set of abs in the world.” Jason was drunk enough to talk about himself in such a grandiose manner; were he sober he’d never talk himself up like that. He took another swig of the tequila, setting the now empty bottle down on the bar. “Okay maybe we have a few beers and see where we are before I buy another one of those.” He shrugged broadly and took his shot, watching the balls scatter across the worn felt. “My mistakes tend to be a little more visible; which is why I’ve been so reticent to have any sort of hookup. If it blows up everyone knows.” He lounged lazily on his stool and smiled broad and loose at Percy, “But hey.. I had fun. Next time I see him we’ll have words and maybe some blows, but that’s next time and not something to worry about now that I’m spending time with you.”

“It is not the most amazing set of abs I’ve ever seen, those belong to Reyna’s eight pack or possibly Apollo when he is in his super saiyan form.” Percy shrugged gently, he was drunk enough to be brutally honest with his friend when he might have once softened the blow. Scooping up his drink, he gulped down a couple more mouthfuls before shrugging and smiling gently. He was drunk enough to have all but forgotten about the previous night’s events, at least for the moment. Leaning down, Percy lined up his own shot and took it, shooting the ball into the pocket and watching it rattle into the table. “Fuck them,” he replied with a shrug and a shake of his head, “we don’t need to play the game by their rules, we just get to live our life and you know what, you might’ve slept with someone who turned out to be an asshole, but that makes you no different from any other person who would be our age.”

“You cannot possibly compare my abs to my brother’s. He’s literally a god.” Jason shook his head as Percy sank another shot. Looking around the rough and humble interior of the bar he couldn’t help but smile; this place had seen them grow from boys into men, carrying bloody trophies through the door with them as they’d grown. They’d spent more than their fair share of nights sleeping in the bunks upstairs and Jason was glad that Percy had chosen this as the place to drink away their sorrows. Wandering away from the table just long enough to select a song on the jukebox in the corner, Jason returned as the bass started thumping. “True. We can put this firmly in the column of “Jason making normal adult idiot choices.”” He snickered softly and carefully lined up his shot; looking at all the angles before launching the cue ball hard enough to sink two balls. “Tell me something inconsequential and banal about your life these days. I’m tired of dealing with a whole city. I just wanna hear about you.”

“You didn’t preface your comment by stating that they had to be mortal abs, you just said the most amazing abs in the world…” Percy giggled gently at the topic and took another long gulp of something to drink. He had long ago stopped caring what he was drinking, as long as it was alcoholic he was happy. Alcohol was currently the only thing that was making him feel any better and so he kept going, knowing that with every mouthful his hangover tomorrow was going to be a hundred times worse. “Well, at least you’re getting to make normal adult idiot decisions,” Percy said in reply before emitting a loud laugh. Smiling absent mindedly, Percy sunk another shot into a pocket, apparently getting better with every drink that he took. “I got that new Assassins Creed game,” Percy replied with a laugh, “it is honestly something that is well made, and getting to explore the Pyramids is amazing, you should come round and play it sometime….”

“Well I would think that’d be self-evident. Now you have to tell me how pretty I am.” Spinning towards the bar Jason threw his brightest smile on and ordered them another bottle of booze before bringing it back to the pool table. He knew he’d wake up on his couch with the worst headache known to mankind but tonight was worth it; to just forget with his best friend and act like they used to. “I’ll have to come over. In the brief moments of gaming I can manage it’s been all Destiny 2 all the time. Been listening to a bunch of podcasts while I do it. Nice to just zone out, you know? Oh!!” He watched Percy sink his shot, winning the game, and flipped him the double bird before continuing to talk, “Finished a couple short stories. I’d love to have you read them before I send them off to your mom.”

Raising an eyebrow gently, Percy laughed, “Don’t worry, you are the prettiest boy in this whole bar and if I weren’t promised to another I would insist on you taking me in your arms and ravaging my supple virgin body.” Taking a long drink, Percy did his best to keep himself composed, which promptly failed and he found himself laughing, his drink spraying across the floor as he failed to keep a straight face. Percy placed his pool cue back on the table and shrugged, “What can I say, I obviously just seem to have a very natural talent for pool, but I have heard all good things about the new Destiny game, you’ll have to let me borrow it until I have the time to get it for myself.” Placing his beer glass on the bar, Percy nodded. “You know that I would always love to read them before you send them off, they’re always rivetingly good. I know Mom’s going to love them.”

“Listen, I have slept in enough hotel rooms next to you and Annabeth to know that virgin thing is a goddamn lie.” He flinched slightly as the spray from Percy’s drink hit him “Party foul!!! Hella party foul, dude.” Jason sashayed drunkenly over to the dartboard and beckoned to Percy, “We’ll have to play something else then. That I can win at.” He took his first set of throws, squinting one eye as he aimed, “Its fun man. It’s great time killer you don’t have to think about while you’re playing. You just zone and shoot. Which is always good fun.” Stepping back he wrote this round’s score on the chalkboard and let Percy have his turn. “You always flatter me, but this round of them is pretty good. There’s one I’m going to submit to a contest after your mom edits it for me.” He took another drink of burningly harsh liquor and smiled, “We should do this more often.”

Laughing, Percy shrugged gently. “What can I say,” he slurred, “Annabeth is a bit of a screamer, or is that me…” he giggled to himself, deliriously giddy from the alcohol and the stress and the amounts of pressure that they were under. Rolling his eyes, he sloppily stumbled over to the dartboard and laughed. “You’re definitely going to win this if my dart throwing abilities are anything like my archery.” Picking up a dart he tossed it at the wall, and completely missed the board. “Well, I think you’ve got this one, but hey, that was fun, I’ll try my best and see what I can do.” Grunting he swallowed a mouthful of beer and shrugged. “I don’t flatter you, I tell you the truth, if you write something shitty then I will tell you that it is shitty, but I’m sure you’ve got this. Two authors working on a piece, that is guaranteed to win it.” He aimed again and threw his dart, which managed to hit the board this time, even though it didn’t score, his final dart did actually score, but only a triple one, which Percy didn’t really understand how it worked, but apparently that was the rules.

Jason laughed and threw a hand over his now crimson face, “It’s you. It’s absolutely you. And I really wish I didn’t know that about you but I do.” Percy’s absolutely abysmal first set of dart throws made Jason fairly confident he could win as he wobbled slowly in place, the alcohol hitting him with the force of a cyclops swing. He turned back to the bar and slid a couple more golden coins across the counter. “We’re gonna need two bunks upstairs tonight. Pretty pretty pretty please.” She merely blew him a kiss and took the money as he stumbled back to the game in progress. “I gotta get your mom a dope ass Christmas present to make up for all the shit I ask her to edit. And you and Annabeth I gotta get you something awesome.”

Nodding gently, Percy shrugged and smiled. “Guilty,” he finally giggled and before shaking his head somewhat embarrassed, though he knew that Jason didn’t care. “Now you can say that there is not a single thing that you don’t know about me,” he winked gently and smirked. It had been a long time since he had been in a bad enough state to need to stay in one of the rooms upstairs. “Gods, I’m already so drunk. When did I become such a lightweight? There used to be a time when I could drink all day and still manage to get home in the evening, now I can’t do either.” He chuckled gently and shrugged. “I think we’re spending Christmas in New Rome this year, don’t really want to leave in case they won’t let us come back…” he sighed gently and shook his head, “but we’re going to get you something very good, I don’t know yet, Annabeth almost certainly does.”

At Percy’s giggle, Jason couldn’t help but let out a guffaw. “Gods I really do know everything about you, don’t I?” He shook his head, blonde hair falling out of his normally neat top-knot as he abandoned all pretense of looking decent and let it down. “We got old, dude. We’re not 18 year olds who can drag Chimera fangs in here and drink til sunrise and then go off to class. Now we’re old men who can drink til 1 and then crash in the bunks upstairs praying to Bacchus that we don’t have the worst hangover ever visited upon a demigod.” He balanced a dart on the tip of his finger, watching it wobble in the bar’s dim lighting, “I’m sorry, man. I know Sally would love to have you at home with her and Gabby. But I understand your reasoning. Terrible, but not a bad idea given the current political climate.” Smiling he reached over and ruffled Percy’s hair, “You don’t gotta get me shit, Briney. You keep putting up with me and that’s present enough.”

Percy snorted with laughter and shrugged gently at Jason’s giggle. Taking a few breaths in between his snorts of laughter, he shrugged and shook his head gently. “That is what happens after seven years of spending weeks together,” sighing gently he shrugged. “We got very old,” he snorted, “I’m not the warrior or drinker that I once was….” Percy sighed and looked at the nemean lion pelt pinned to the wall that he knew he had brought in almost four years ago now. “I am going to be in a state tomorrow, you’ll have to carry me back to my apartment, tell Annabeth that I love her and I’ll be fine…” he laughed again and sipped at his beer. He knew that he was only going to make things worse. “It isn’t your fault,” he replied with a shake of his head, “you are simply doing as much as you can and that is more than anyone can ask, I’m doing the same thing.” He laughed and shook his head. “Don’t talk shit sparky,” he replied glibly before shaking his head, “we are getting you something and that is the end of it.”

“We’re not a lot of what we once were. But I like to think we aged well. We both got excellently attractive too so I guess we really can’t complain too much.” Clasping his hand to Percy’s shoulder Jason laughed brightly, “When we wake up in the morning I’ll give you a piggyback ride back to your apartment for sure. Just like old times.” He chugged some more of the liquor and started to wander towards the stairs up to the bunks he’d paid for for them. “I talk shit as much as I want, you two give me enough. I don’t need a christmas present. But if you wanted to get me something…… I’ve got some notebooks on my Amazon wishlist I’d kill for.”

[afinedoll]

MH: Gloom ‘N’ Bloom Venus McFlytrap

I have had a fair bit of strife lately, I’m not going to go into it in detail, but I felt that I deserved a doll. Something to be a brightness in the gloom. So I went to my local ASDA and found that there was a great deal of brightness to choose from! In the end, I came home with this lovely lady.

Isn’t she gorgeous?

I was initially going to get a more punky Venus, but then I figured what the hell, this one is really, really appealing and anyone who says I can’t have two/dress this one up can fight me.

So here she is, out of the box. Isn’t she darling? The stand for her flowerpot, by the way, is a Hornsea ware pepper pot - the Saker cafe in Todmorden has the best crockery.

Venus here is one of the most lush, generously-attired dolls I’ve seen from Monster High in a while, with her beautifully-detailed dress and - if you count each pair of jewellery as one, and the flower and its pot as one - eight seperate accessories. That’s the stingiest possible count here. Let’s have a quick look at her hair and face first before we check all of these out.

Her hair is in the usual watermelon pink and lime green with hints of black, and in this case it’s swept up into a high ponytail with a rather cool venus flytrap decoration. I am pretty sure that all these vines and flytrap decorations are supposed to be part of Venus’s own body so she is blooming hard for the Gloom ‘n’ Bloom event.

Venus isn’t quite Venus without a partially shaved head and this one has an undercut that’s almost hidden by her ponytail. I like the bright pink flocking.

Venus is, of course, green - that’s to be expected - she’s a plant. Her other most recogniseable feature is that mouth fulla fangs. Seven fangs - count ‘em - the only person toothier than she is is Honey Swamp, who has eleven gnarly gator gnashers. Of course Venus has pink lipstick and slightly pursed lips - what would you expect from the Flytrap’s daughter?

Her blue eyes are a nice relief from the overwhelmingly pink, green and black colour scheme - actually I think they match her watering can, although they might be lighter. There are a lot of reflections in them, it makes them look very liquid, and that streak of blue along the top edge brings out the colour nicely. Her eye makeup is very heavy and her lashes rather reminiscent of - well, you get the idea. I’m glad her eyebrows aren’t black, I think that would have been too much.

Her eyeliner is on point. She has a kind of intense expression which is emphasised from this angle, and her eye make-up goes from bright to full on Glam Rock Star. It’s also easier to see the undercut from the side.

I don’t know what this nose shape is called. It’s not a ski-jump, though - this would be a pretty dangerous ski-jump. Venus’s forehead drops straight down, with the slight dent between her eyes, and then the nose curves up - and the end of her nose marks a straight line down to her chin, too. She has a head shape like an anime character.

Her leafy ears are great. Not only do they have thorny edges, but they have leafy veins too. What a wonderful touch.

Now let’s have a look at these accessories!

The first thing is this pot plant. It is not Chewlian, but it might have grown from a cutting from Chewlian. I like the pot, but I feel that maybe I should paint all these gaping mouths pink. Having them all green like this looks wrong.

And if we look closely at the roots (yes, it comes out of the pot!) you can see definite evidence of this being Chewlian’s progeny. Definitely in need of painting to bring out these details, I think.

To care for Chewlian Jr., there is this watering can - how much of this is supposed to be a design and what is vine wrapping around the can is not entirely clear. It seems a waste to let so much detail go un-picked-out. But there is a handle at the back and one at the top, so that Venus can pour from it realistically. I appreciate that.

Also here it is from the front, so you can appreciate the organic look of the spout - I think it’s meant to be another flytrap but the thickness of the plastic and the shortness of the spikes make it look rather more like a sucker to me. Either way, decidedly eerie.

Her hairclip - actually mounted on an open plastic ring, and you have to tightly twist the ponytail to get it on - is delightfully elaborate. Not only is Venus flowering, she is spreading spiky vines all over the place.

Once I had the trick of it, this was pretty easy to get on her, but it’s hard to keep straight. I find the easiest way to stop it flopping to the side is to use it with the double vine facing down, and bury the bottom-most spikes firmly in her hair.

Her earrings are black spiky vines and match her necklace - so it’s hard to know if these are also part of her body, or if she just likes the plant motif.

Here is said necklace. You may recognise it from the Signature Rochelle Goyle review, where I got the two dolls’ necklaces mixed up. To be fair, they are extremely similar.

This being twilight and me not having the best lighting in my home, I can’t take my own photo right now so here is a picture of Rochelle’s necklace from an eBay listing from The Patch Boutique. As you see, very similar, although I think my mistake was because the Rochelle I had was second-hand and sold to me with a Venus necklace.

Her bracelets are vines - I think this is usual with Venus? Anyway I went on eBay later and bought her some longer ones that she can wear with short sleeves. I am pretty sure these are meant to be body parts and I’m actually glad they don’t match her skin tone, it looks more natural.

More body parts - her very bloomy leg vines. These are made of a more rubbery substance and you can straighten them out entirely for ease of wrapping around Venus’s leg. It’s less cumbersome if the ‘mouth’ faces backwards, but then you can see the mould marks - but I guess you win some, you lose some. Yes, I bought her some non-blooming leg vines, too.

Here are her shoes. First of all I’m going to say I love how they look. They’re gorgeous and sleek and I want a pair even though I’d never be able to walk on that heel. Venus looks fantastic in them.

But they are a bitch to handle, entirely due to those spikes down the heel, which saw at your hand as you put them on or remove them. It’s only a mercy they fit well and aren’t too tight...

She can stand alone in them, though, and while she does, let’s have a look at the dress. It’s made from the crinkly excuse for satin that the doll industry likes so much, although it could be worse - at least it’s not that awful papery stuff the knock-offs get. The skirt and bodice actually have different prints! The skirt has this chaotic flytrap print and the bodice has them smaller, and more neatly organised to follow the lines of the torso - very clever.

The belt is a thin velvet ribbon - the texture here does a lot for this dress - and that black vinyl vine on the torso continues onto the skirt, although it’s hard to see here.

What I really like are the puffed fishnet sleeves. In fact the whole shape of this dress is really nice.

Of course we have to take her hands off to get the dress off, and this is what they look like. They have leafy texture over the back, but this is the only place on her body apart from her ears where this texture appears at all. It feels a little half-arsed. She also has pointy fingernails, but part of me wonders if she should have had claws.

Here she is nude. As you can see, she is green, but apart from the moulded hands, an entirely ordinary Monster High sculpt.

Better get dressed again and head off to the garden party where everyone already knows you’re special.

[phff-authentic]

two: reunited

The sight of the grinning blonde behind the door brought a squeal out of Kimberly’s mouth before she launched herself forwards, wrapping her arms around her neck. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist, a similar high pitched noise filling her ears before a familiar laugh cut it off. Pulling away, she ushered the girl into the room and shut the door behind the both of them. Entering the living area, another pair of heels found themselves discarded by the side of the couch; the newcomer dropping herself down on it with a groan. Kimberly couldn’t help the smile that made its way upon her lips as she also sat herself down on the loveseat, shaking her head at her friend. Her closest friend at that.

Jayne Griffiths, also a twenty eight year old Business major graduate and an exuberant genius that Kimberly had the privilege of calling a business partner. Unlike Kim, Jayne had only ever lived in one place her entire life. The little town of Stratford was all she knew and leaving home was a strange concept and honestly not one she had thought of but with her best friend by her side, everything became possible. Her sudden appearance was expected, however at a later date, but that became a passing thought as the two began to catch up. The original pattern of their conversations hadn’t faded and it was as though they had never been apart.

“So basically I’m still completely wrecked from the flight. Doing strenuous tasks when your body wants to sleep is not the way to live.” Jayne explained, pulling her hair out her face and smiling at her friend who had perched herself on the seat opposite her, listening intently to every word she spoke. If there was one thing she never understood about Kim, was how she always stayed in the background even when she was a force to be reckoned with.

“I did tell you to leave them to it.”

“And risk something going wrong, no. Not while Jayne Marisol Griffiths is still breathing.” She proclaimed, causing the two of them to laugh. Jayne had landed before Kim, an entire day before but unlike the relaxed welcome to the city Kimberly had received, she was knee deep in work before she even left the airport. Calls were made and reservations checked. Venues prepped and visiting guests checked in. The last twenty-four hours had been nothing but stressful for the young girl but pure anticipation and endless cups of coffee had pulled her through.

The pair had been close since year ten and they knew each other inside out. It made being friends a lot easier and working with each other more than just tolerable. They complimented each other and helped the other improve. Despite being partners as well as friends, they swore on their lives that work would never get in the way of their friendship and neither of them really wanted it to or expected it to. What they do was beneficial to the community and they were both on board to make the world they live in a better place.

“Alright then Miss Stroakes, we have our launch dinner tonight, I hope you have your speech written,” Kim simply shrugged as she leaned back into the love seat listening to her friend speak, “Then we’ve got time with the children tomorrow before the morning meeting and lunch date on Friday. and finally we have an evening flight to our next destination.” Flashing her friend a smile as her excitement slipped through her lips and with a thumbs up the two were on their feet ready to get down to business.

Jayne had wandered somewhere in the hotel room to make a call while, Kim went into the bathroom to have a wash after her flight. Her tea was long forgotten on the counter in the kitchen but for once in her life she wasn’t bothered about missing her cup of tea. Despite her tiredness, her anticipation for the evening ahead was enough to have her pull through for the evening. It wasn’t the first time they were doing this either. They had done the same thing several times around the United Kingdom during the past two years but with new sponsors the business was finally able to branch out of the United Kingdom and it didn’t take long for people to accept their requests of launching a new branch in their cities.

Wrapping a towel around her body, more relaxed and more awake, she wandered through to the bedroom to start getting ready. The search for something to wear was seemingly difficult as she pulled out different items of clothing before groaning and throwing it on the bed. It wasn’t so much the fact that nothing she owned was appropriate, she seemed to own nothing but office attire, but more so that she wanted to make an impression that would leave people with good comments about the owners of the company. Her worries didn’t lie with Jayne, she knew she would be able to get ready in ten minutes. Her outfit already having been planned days ahead and spending the most of her time on her hair and makeup. Kimberly however was not so good at the whole fashion scene. Planning outfits in advance was also a punishment rather than a beneficial act, purely because she believed there were other things she could be doing with her life and there was a lot to do.

As she was about to pull up her skirt, the sound of a phone ringing filled the room. The girl ran towards her handbag from the flight over and shuffled through it until she emerged with the device, answering it immediately.

“Good Afternoon Kimmi, everything seems to be sorted for tonight. I’d tell Jayne too but I can’t seem to get through to her.” The sound of her other colleague, Daniel, echoed through the receiver earning a smile and relieved sigh from the half-dressed girl. Daniel was someone the girl had met when they first pitched their idea to a group of sponsors. He was on board instantly and even though he had to work a normal job as well as his position in the company due to the girls not being able to pay him at the start, he never left their sides. He became their friend and with his help a addition to the team the girls couldn’t replace.  Daniel was their social engagements manager, everything they’ve done to gain recognition and get familiar with other people in the industry has been thanks to Daniel and his people skills.

“Thank you so much Dan, I’ll tell her the moment I’m off the phone with you,” She answered back, gratitude being the dominant emotion at the moment. I wasn’t easy being head of affairs, Kimberly knew so she was so thankful to have someone as ambitious and hardworking as Daniel on their team, “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

The two spoke for a little while longer until she excused herself to finish getting dressed. Muttering their goodbyes, the phones were hung up and she took a moment to place it on charge so it wouldn’t run out of battery before she returned to her hotel room. Securing the skirt above her shirt at the waist, she zipped it up and left the room to check on her friend.

Her shouts weren’t answered which made panic rise inside the girl but the sight of the balcony door open relieved her for a second. Walking towards the door, her head poked outside to see the blonde leaning against the railing, phone pressed against her ear. Rolling her eyes at the sight, she took a seat in one of the chairs, allowing the sun to hit her bare legs before closing her eyes. It didn’t take long for her to drift off into a light sleep but it was enough for her to gain the rest she needed and start lightening up the effect the jet-lag was having on her body.

A hand on her shoulder shook her out of her slumber and as she gazed up at the girl towering above her with a large grin on her face, she sat her straight once more and smoothed out the crinkles in her skirt. Rising up from the chair, she gave a lazy smile to Jayne before her eyes scanned at her friends clothes, eyes widening as soon as their met her friends bright green ones again.

“Guess who’s going to be-”

“Jay, you need to get dressed. You said yourself there’s so much to check through.” Kimberly fussed, grabbing her friend’s hand and tugging her back into the room before grabbing her shoes and pressing them against her chest.

“But Kimmi, you don’t under-”

“Jay please, I’m sure you can tell me afterwards.” She pleaded, trying to be a kind about it as possible a her eyes flickered to the digital clock that was placed on the island that divided the kitchen and the living room. It read: 16:17 which meant it had been an hour and a half since she’d landed and they only had less than an hour to be at the hall the dinner is being held at. Jayne nodded at her friend, giving her a brief kiss on the cheek before exiting the room in her normal loud manner, shutting the door behind her.

Moving towards the bedroom, she sat at the vanity in the room and carefully went through the process of doing her makeup and throwing her hair into a simple yet sophisticated design. Her bare feet moved across the floor as she went back to her suitcases to grab clutch bag, throwing in her foundation, lipstick and makeup wipes. Removing her phone from charge, she placed it into the bag also, glancing at herself in the mirror one last time before grabbing a pair of black court shoes and leaving the hotel room. The minute she was out, her keycard was dropped into the bag as well.

By the time she had made her way back to the lobby, Jayne was waiting for her and so was Daniel. Daniel was a tall man only a year older than the two girls but nonetheless, she loved him as much as she loved Jayne. He wrapped her in a tight embrace as she came close, squeezing her gently before letting her go and leading the ladies towards the car outside that was waiting for them.

As you can see the alterations weren't completely plot changing in the slightest.

kimberly’s outfit: here

All My Love, Mac x

[idekwidcfo]

Chapter Two, or three, depending on if I decide to separate the last two posts (which were supposed to be chapter one but two different sections but then why did I upload them separately instead of as one chapter? I don’t know!) 

Prom came and went, and it was whatever. I didn’t go, obviously, but I did check MySpace for my friends-- Mar in particular-- posting their Prom Pics. She looked so great that I felt a twinge of regret for not going. I wouldn’t have had a date, but I would have been able to gawk at Mar in person instead of just in photos. It might have been worth it. 

Luckily, our first date at Steak n Shake then Electric Avenue, the local show venue, was only a week after prom. It was hard to regret not going to some stupid, stuffy school dance when something much more exciting was coming up so soon. 

I bought myself a new outfit in anticipation of my first show and my first date with Mar. I hoped it would be a momentuous and memorable occasion for both reasons. Despite the store’s somewhat embarassing reputation, I went to Hot Topic. It’s the only place I know of, to this day, where I can reliably get a sturdy pair of black skinny jeans for under $50 that actually fit me. Also, hell, sometimes going out and buying something punk was easier than hunting through thrift stores all damn day, even if it was technically less punk to do so. I found a pair of the pants I liked on sale-- lucky me-- and also bought a new t-shirt with a logo for one of the bands Mar and I had ended up agreeing was pretty good. I even got some hair gel, from Target not from Hot Topic. While I was getting ready, I played around with trying on some eye-liner, but it made me feel uncomfortable and dysphoric, so I took it off. 

I had Googled her address to see how long it took to drive there even though I already had the directions figured out. Google said it would take 17 minutes, so I left 22 minutes ahead of time. I figured it would be better to wait in the car outside her house than make her wait around for me. At 6:54 I was sitting outside of the address she had given me, parked on the street and wondering whether I should get out and go knock on the door or just shoot her a text. I decided on the text message. Visions of her parents answering the door and wanting to interview me filled my head and scared the shit out of me. 

I was overthinking the text and kept editing the damn thing, so I was still composing it when I heard a knock on my window. It startled me badly enough that I jumped a bit. I looked up to see Mar looking like some punk princess laughing at me for being jumpy. 

She looked incredible, rocking the fishnet stockings again with a black-and-red plaid skirt that came down to just above her knees. The bottom of a pair of tight black shorts peaked out from under the skirt, proving she was moshpit-ready. She was wearing a shirt for some band I hadn’t heard of before, which probably meant it was a local band. She had mentioned during one of our long AIM conversations that she liked wearing local band tees to local band shows, even if the same band wasn’t playing. Her make-up fit the outfit-- the smear of black around her eyes and purple on her lips somehow came across as ready for the moshpit just as much as her black under-shorts did. 

I stopped gawking at her and unlocked my car doors, being really obvious about it so she would know I was inviting her to get in. “Sorry about that,” I said. “I was working on a text to send you and kind of overthinking it.” 

“No worries, I was just peeking out my window and noticed there was a car outside that matched the description of your car. Figured I’d go ahead and come out. I’m glad you were a little early, I couldn’t have handled it if you had made me wait anxiously for another ten minutes,” she said, smiling at me. Another, I noted, swooning a little as I realized that she had just confessed to waiting anxiously. 

As she got in, she revealed a pair of chunky-soled purple boots that definitely completed her outfit, and made it easy for her to stomp the empty Monster cans littering the floor of my car out of her way. I repressed a frown at myself for not cleaning my car out first-- of all the preparation I had done, that had simply not occurred to me. She didn’t seem to mind it, so I didn’t dwell on it. Instead I put the car back into drive and took off for the closest Steak n Shake, about a 15 or 20 minute drive from her house (exactly 14 minutes according to Google Maps, but I liked to over-estimate, to be safe). I let her choose the music. She informed me that she was playing music by one of the bands we were going to see tonight. I didn’t instantly fall in love or anything, but it was pretty okay. They had a strong drum and bass section that kept a steady, fast beat which seemed like it would be fun to dance to. 

We arrived at Steak n’ Shake and I considered running around and getting Mar’s door, but she hopped out before I could make a decision about it. It was probably for the better-- when I got the door to the restaurant for her, she scoffed at me and made a sarcastic remark about her weak womanly arms. It was pretty obvious that she was just teasing, but I made a mental note to throw the chivarly act out the window. 

It was much harder to talk to her in person than it had been to talk over AIM. My brain was an unhelpful blank. My internal monologue sounded something like this: Wow, I should really say something to Mar instead of just sitting here in awkward silence. Yep. Would be really nice to think of something to say. I don’t understand why I’m not thinking of anything. I’m going to think of something now! Okay, that didn’t work. Maybe I should just tell her I can’t think of anything to talk about? That would be talking. “My brain is doing a very unhelpful thing where I want to think of something to talk about, but all my thoughts are just about how I should think of something to talk about,” I said aloud. 

Mar laughed. “I’ve experienced that before. It’s the worst. Especially when you’re with people you think are really cool and want to make friends with.” 

I smiled at her, glad she was able to relate and didn’t think I was weird. “I ususally have like a thousand random thoughts going through my brain at any given time, so it’s really weird and frustrating that I can’t think of anything to talk about, besides getting meta.” 

“We could do one of those silly little conversation-lubricating games, like 20 questions,” Mar said. 

So we did that for a bit, and it was fun. Our food came, and before I knew it the dinner portion of the date was over. As we went back to my car to get to the “and a show” part of the date, she suggested another round of 20 questions. 

“Ah, okay, uh, can you eat it?” I asked, turning my car on and beginning the drive over the Electric Avenue. 

“It would be a waste, but technically,” she said. 

“Is it alive?” I asked. 

“Not any more, but it once was,” she replied. 

I was already a bit baffled. “What color is it?” I asked. 

“Isn’t 20 questions supposed to be yes or no questions only?” 

“Well, you’re not giving me yes or no answers so it threw me off,” I said. 

She smirked at me and I swear I almost crashed the damn car because I couldn’t look away. Fortunately, I did not crash, and after a moment I was able to focus on driving again. She finally answered. “Okay, okay. The thing I’m thinking of is green and white.” 

That did not help at all. The only thing I could think of was cheerleading outfits for one of the Catholic schools in our area, which didn’t fit with the other answers. “Is it a plant?” I asked. Plants could be white and green and definitely could ‘technically’ be eaten, although I couldn’t quite figure out what plant would be ‘sort of a waste’ if someone did eat it. 

“Yes!” she said, sounding very excited. 

“Is it uh… an herb?” I supposed eating straight oregano or basil would be ‘sort of’ a waste. 

She grinned and I knew I was onto something. Then she gave it away completely. “It is herb!” 

It still took a second for that to click, but she whipped out a little marijuana cigarette and that round of 20 questions was over. I was honestly a bit freaked out. I had never known anyone who did any drugs. Despite my punkish inclinations, our group at school was really just bunch of nerds. 

She seemed to notice my hesitation. “Do you not smoke?” she asked, looking more unsure of herself than I had yet to see her. 

“Just cigarettes,” I said. “I’m not, like, opposed to marijuana, though. I’ve just never done it, or been around anyone who has done it.” 

She laughed. “You’re really calling it ‘marijuana’?” 

I blushed. “Umm, yeah. I guess that does sound pretty nerdy, huh?” 

“It does,” she said. There was a moment of silence, then she asked, “do you want to try it?” 

“Maybe?” I said, truthfully. I had a lot of curiosity about it, but it seemed like a big thing to just jump into on a whim. 

“What’s holding you back?” she asked. 

“Well, mostly, I’m going to have to drive home, and I don’t know how it’s going to affect me yet,” I said, since it was the best argument the part of me that was afraid had. 

“Oh,” she said. “That is a really good point, actually. I wouldn’t want you to have to drive after your first time getting high.” 

“Oh okay,” I said. “A part of me does want to try it but a bigger part of me wants to make sure we both get home safe at the end of the night.” 

Mar gave me a dazzling grin. I definitely wasn’t getting a tolerance to the smiles she gave me, but at least this time I stayed focused on driving and didn’t worry about crashing due to Mar-smile-related hypnosis. “How sweet of you. Well, do you mind if I smoke it? Then you can see how it makes me act and get an idea of its affects.” 

“No, I don’t mind, that’s fine,” I said. She lit up and I recognized the smell. “Oh dammit.” 

“What?” she asked. 

“I recognize that smell. My dad totally smokes pot,” I said. 

We laughed, her a little harder than me and I assumed it was because of the pot or weed or whatever the not-lame term for it was. However, I noticed that she wasn’t acting terribly different, which was comforting to the part of me that really did want to try it myself. 

We got to the venue and I found street parking not too far away. Once we stepped out of my car, she lit a cigarette. I felt like a barely knew her. Despite all the chatting we’d been doing the past week, she hadn’t mentioned smoking anything, let alone both weed and cigarettes. However, I lit one too. Smoking is bad and unhealthy and smelly and so not cool and all that, but at some point when I was 15 my curiosity had gotten the better of me and here I was, now a smoker. I ran with that thought train. “How long have you been smoking?” I asked her. 

She grimaced. “I started when I was 13, unfortunately. Both cigarettes and weed.” 

“15 here,” I told her. “My dad smokes and I nicked one. I was curious. I didn’t even smoke it for months, just looked at it.” 

She smirked at me. “That’s kind of cute. I hung around with some of my cousins who were a bit older and they all smoked, so I kind of just picked it up.” 

We finished our cigarettes outside the doors of the venue, and I was pleased to see Mar put her butt in a trash can instead of littering. I paid the door fee, which was only $10 for both of us, and we went inside. I had been worried about being a bit late, since my phone said it was 8:05, but the band was still setting up their instruments. There was already a little crowd in front of the stage, and I followed Mar as she joined the five or six other people standing there waiting. 

Suddenly a blur of black and blue appeared from nowhere, and it took me a second to realize it was a person. They had launched themself at Mar for a giant, very enthusiastic hug. I bit down some jealousy that I knew was irrational. If it was someone she already knew, which seemed pretty obvious given the way they hugged her, and she liked them, she would have started dating them well before I asked her out. 

Their ridiculously enthusiastic hug ended and I got a good look at the person who had just catipulted themself at my date. They were very attractive, and I felt the irrational jealousy that I really didn’t want to feel bubble up again. They smiled at me and said, “And who is this handsome fella?” 

I blushed and suddenly my jealousy turned into flattery. Mar grinned at me. “This is Vaughn. We’re on our first date.” 

Mar’s friend’s smile got a little bigger. “Oh, you? On a date? Good for you, Vaughn! I’ve been trying to get Mar to date someone for like a year now.” 

“Not you though?” I asked. 

“Oh no, I’m gay. I don’t like women. I mean, I guess if I did like women I would be into Mar since she’s so pretty,” they flashed another smile at Mar, who smiled back, “but nah, I prefer dudes.” 

“Oh cool!” I said. “I’m actually bisexual but Mar’s the first person who-- er, well, heard a rumor that I liked her and made me ask her out. So, here we are!” 

“Oh, a bunch a bisexuals here, huh? You’re still bi, too, right Mar?” 

“Yep. Been that way since I was 14. Still am. It’s actually kind of insulting of you to ask, Derek,” Mar said. 

“Derek? That’s your name? I hadn’t gotten it yet, sorry,” I said. 

“No worries. I am, in fact, Derek,” they said, grinning again. “Nice to formally make your acquaintance, Vaughn.” 

Mar rolled her eyes as Derek and I shook hands. 

“He pronouns?” I asked. 

“What?” 

“Er, it’s polite to ask people’s pronouns instead of assuming and I’m trying to get into the habit,” I explained. 

“Oh! Yeah, he, him, they, she, whatever. I’m a man but I know I’m a little flamboyant so I don’t mind being called ‘she’ sometimes. You?” 

“He,” I confirmed. “Preferably only he, I really don’t like being called ‘she’, and ‘they’ makes me feel like I don’t pass.” 

Suddenly, the music started, drowning out any hope of continuing our conversation. I wasn’t sure Derek had even heard the end of my sentence, which might have been a good thing since I had gone ahead and very awkwardly outed myself. 

The show was everything I had hoped for. The band was very interactive with the small group of people surrounding the stage. There was even a tiny mosh pit-- me, Mar, Derek, and two or three other people. I had a great time, and was disappointed when their set ended. 

“Is it everything you dreamed and more?” Mar asked me. 

“It is! Thanks so much for recommending this place!” I said. 

“Doth my ears betray me?” Derek said. “This is your first time at a show?” 

“It is,” I responded. 

“How nice to see you get right into it! All joining the pit and being right up front. I think it is way more fun than awkwardly standing in the back,” Derek told me. 

“I think so too, so far,” I agreed. 

“Y’all should come to my party tomorrow,” he said. 

“Oh?” Mar asked, another grin on her face. “It’s been a while since you threw a party. What’s the special occasion?” 

Derek shrugged. “Not much of one, just my dad going out of town.” 

Mar turned to me. “We should go. Actually, I’m totally going to go, with or without you, but you should come with me. Derek’s parties are a lot of fun.” 

I grinned. “My dad will be pleased that I’m doing things a ‘real teenager’ should do instead of being shut up in my room on the computer. Let’s do it.” 

Derek, Mar, and I chatted until the next band came on. Before I knew it, the night was over, I was covered in sweat, and Derek felt more like an old friend than someone I had just met. It really was everything I had wanted it to be, and I already couldn’t wait to do it again.