#well mostly just writing and one row of studs so far

[freyjaofthenorth]

found a pink leather jacket at the thrift store and thought to myself "well i did think a all-pink punk fit would be neat"

so progress day one

[prose-for-hire]

I [still] know what you did last Halloween...

Part one // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is the second part to a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. This is a multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Yes, I had to include Spike. Yes, I am sorry. Reader lived with Giles, but is not related. 

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Alcohol consumption. Swearing.

Sunnydale students: SOS

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

The Sunnydale slasher strikes again, leaving one teen dead and two injured. There was a house party last night [12/10/1999] which left the student body with one less. The identity of the teen, who is yet to be identified based on extensive injuries should be announced to the public after the family is informed.

However, it makes us at the Sunnydale Express question: was it the teens fault for breaking curfew?

It was the day of the funerals. There was to be two back-to-back.

The first funeral was Giles’. It was an intimate ceremony, the core group and a Watcher who had never met Giles alive. He was there to ‘oversee’ matters but Wesley told him where to go. This had surprised you, the man wasn’t usually so forthright but he had appeared to be fond of Giles in some way.

Your group stood, staring into the open grave. You were now minus two members. There had been some crying earlier, but everyone’s faces were stony now. As if they were set in place. Exhausted from crying, not sure if you would die from dehydration if you wept another drop.

All of the colour had been sucked out of the world and you were all now aware that you were only briefly passing through this life. You weren’t aware everyone else was sharing your cynical thought, but they were.

You felt the most immeasurable guilt. You felt guilty for Giles’ death. For being the reason he was gutted so brutally. Used to write a crude message on the wall. His life had come down to being the ink in someone’s pen and it angered you that this was what his life had been reduced to. But mostly, it sickened you.

And, as Willow tapped you on the shoulder and gestured that it was time. Your mind still trying to wrap your head around the imagines you had seen in the past week. It was never going to get easier.

It was all a blur. It was screaming and rushing of bodies all around you. 

The room had started to thin. Only the injured and your friends remained. Willow had started to mutter something, a kind of protective spell - she grabbed your hand needing your strength. 

The slayers danced around each other, their fight mean and brutal. he appeared human, but his reflexes were good. Almost, too good.

He was blocking them at every turn. He appeared to be enjoying it. He was studying them. Learning their movement. Anticipating what would come next. They fought hard. Buffy hissing as the tip of the scythe cut into the flesh on her upper arm.

Then it happened. You could barely stomach thinking about it. Xander had walked into the room-

Xander had been a good friend to you. He was never perfect and you liked that about him, he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. He looked out for you and he had been there for you when you had almost broken down and run to the police months ago. He had been firm that it had to be kept secret what you had done, but never refused you a shoulder to cry on.

His funeral was a lavish affair, his parents turning on the waterworks despite everyone knowing how they would treat him at times. They had paid for only the best, with a large number of people attending. The church was packed out. It made you wander that if any of them knew what he had been involved in with the rest of you, would they be so quick to say they had always liked him? Always seen him as brave and strong?

Any time the family saw any of the people that were there that night they scowled. They glared. And they burst into more tears. Why were you spared, when he wasn’t?

The six of you huddled together. Oz was more distant than usual, his hand on Willow’s shoulder as she couldn’t control her sobbing now. Buffy was sat with you, trying to hold it together as you wrapped an arm around her - willing yourself not to fall apart either. Cordelia and Faith had started bickering. It was getting progressively louder and your group was getting funny looks. They eventually stopped but only when the priest shushed them and started to say the final words before Xander was cremated.

Bravery. It was a word that had been said a lot that day, in that stuffy church hall. But it rang true, clearer than the tolling bell.

He had been brave.

 Everything stilled when he entered the room, as if time had been slowed for that one moment. And who knows, maybe it had. It was Sunnydale. The masked figure stopped fighting Buffy and stepped over an injured party-goer. He had been waiting for this. the guest of honour.

The masked figure had just been killing time fighting the slayers. Xander’s fate was decided before he had got to the party that night. 

Xander’s face had twisted in horror, his eyes met yours and you started to scream. He nodded, resigning himself to what was coming. The figure swung his scythe back, shrugging Faith off him who had tried to tackle him and swung at Xander.

A sickening noise. A splatter of blood sprayed the entire room. Willow dropped your hand in horror, stunned into silence as Xander’s head rolled to Buffy’s feet, the same look in his eye. 

There were media crews set up everywhere outside the church. They were using Xander to tell their stories. It would anger you, but you felt too washed out to say anything. You didn’t even comment when you overheard Harmony on her fifth interview, now talking to the local news outlet.

“Did you know the victim well?”

“Well, yeah. He was a total dork- which was so cute we all loved him” She smiled saccharine sweet making sure nobody had noticed her initial look, “Like, everyone wanted to date him he was a total stud-bucket”

“Were you there that night?”

“Yeah – everyone was, duh! But Carrie totally crashed and I don’t hang around with losers. Even being seen with her is like social suicide!” Harmony maintained firmly, as if that was the most important thing she had been interviewed on, “So I left early”

“Okay- that’s great Harmony. One last question: how are you and the rest of your high school class going to cope after this devastating loss?”

“Well, we’re all gonna graduate as long as we’re not all dead first. I am going to be a counsellor at Camp Crystal Lake in the summer. I’m just pleased to have a break from Sunnydale – senior year has been kind of a bummer so far what with the killings” Harmony shrugged and turned away, swishing her long blonde hair as she walked and her clique followed her. Even Cordelia rolled her eyes as Harmony walked past your group.

You stood motionless for a moment, it felt like a second to all of you but to onlookers there had been enough time to paint a detailed impressionist painting. The only title fitting was: loss. 

“Where do we go from here?” someone finally spoke up.

“To the function”

“I-I don’t think I can” Willow sobbed into Oz’s shoulder.

“It’s worse if we don’t show our faces. Even if it’s just for a minute…” You suggest, really wishing the words hadn’t come out of your mouth. You didn’t want to have to face Xander’s family again, “Angel said he might come, what with the sun going down soon”

“Free alcohol. Score” Faith smiled.

“You’re right” Buffy said, still staring into the distance.

“You wanna get drunk?” Faith raised an eyebrow that lowered when Buffy shook her head.

“No. Y/n’s right. We should go. But we all need to talk – in private, when our heads are clearer. Need to figure out what’s going on” Buffy spoke, her usual self-assured tone was weakened slightly. Her voice hoarse from all of the crying.

You all nodded distantly, walking into the function room together, but feeling miles apart.

Death! Destruction! Mayhem!

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Rioting of many stores in the centre of town has been widely reported by those on the ground. Many young people, have taken to the streets to ‘protest’ the curfew. These troubled teens do not understand the importance of hard work and have instead taken to looting and picking up where the killer left off: damning our town.

They have old friends to meet; Disco music to dance to and big ticket items to steal from struggling small businesses.

Meanwhile, the death toll of the cases related to the ‘Sunnydale Slasher’ is now 5, and we ask the residents of Sunnydale: when will they learn?

You walked into the magic shop, one of the only shops on the row that appeared to be untouched. Maybe people knew better than to loot a magic shop. The rest were fair game. You had been hoping to find some kind of ingredients that would help you sleep. Or at least, allow you to relax for even a minute. You felt responsible. For everything and you weren’t sure how to deal with it anymore.

But apparently, this store hadn’t been untouched by those taking what they wanted. You stumbled in on a vampire having a midday snack. Spike. Shit.

You started to back out slowly, but he had seen you. He dropped the corpse of the shop-owner and stepped over her, walking slowly towards you. You sighed, you really weren’t in the mood for this. Everyone around you was dying and now you had to talk to one of the undead.

“Don’t move” He warned, pointing at you as he licked the side of his mouth to catch the blood that had been dripping there. When he noticed that you weren’t even scared, almost a little bored – waiting for him to finish he got annoyed, “You know what I could do? I could snap your neck and-”

“I already have one killer after me, what’s one more?” You sighed again. He raised an eyebrow and you just shrugged, not willing to get into it. Not until he said something.

You had sat, sliding down the wall and he had for some unknown reason (to either of you) decided to join you. He was sobering up and needed some kind of distraction at any rate. He had been staring, sitting beside you and scanning your features in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable if you had cared what he was deciding on.

“You seem different, y/n. From last time, I mean. Not sad, but damned near it - you’re almost making me feel better about my Dru”

“I killed someone. Well, not me, but I helped cover it up…” You admit, after a huge sigh. Spike barely even blinked, this kind of confession didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Who did?”

“Slayers”

“I think they have a licence to kill, love. Don’t make it right but there it is” he shrugged, ready to get back to his feet and look for some liquor. Until you spoke again.

“He was human” You say softly, “Mr Bates. He had a name and a-a family-”

“I’ve killed hundreds of humans, so what?” He spoke over your turmoil. He didn’t feel guilt in that way, so he couldn’t really relate to your low mood.

“It hurts. It aches… but worst of all it makes every experience I’ve ever had… tainted. Wrong in ways I can never describe. It’s like I’m walking through a nightmare, and everyone else is right there with me. It’s not as if I can go to the police. Or talk to anyone else about it… not properly”

“Thanks, that’s sure to make a fella feel special” implying he wasn’t counted in anyone. But he wasn’t very hurt by the statement. This was the first full conversation you had together, he wasn’t that invested in your relationship.

“You know what I mean” You shrugged. And he did. He started to explain to you why he was back. About Dru and everything that had happened since you last saw him. You tried your best to wade through your own thoughts and chip in here and there. He clearly needed to vent too.

You and Spike eventually left together. You had convinced him, after hearing of his predicament, he needed to convince Dru to take him back and he agreed. You walked part of the way before he was going to go and get into his car and you were going to head home.

Night had fallen and you were about to part ways when he came for you. Spike heard him before you saw him. But the figure still made the both of you flinch slightly, before Spike rolled his shoulders and decided he would have to fight doubly hard for showing that weakness.

The hood was down and you could see the mask properly. It was a black material, with a chiselled grey skull etched so forcefully it was as if it was his actual face. The bones were harsh and looked as if it could cut despite it being a plastic mask.

Spike ran straight for him and started to match his offensive blows with his own. Spike appeared to have the upper hand as you just stood and watched. You knew if it came down to it, you could be collateral damage and neither of them would be too bothered.

Somehow, Spike had been knocked to the floor and before he could get up, a scythe had been lodged deep into his torso, hitting the ground beneath him with a horrible metallic sound. The reaper hacked at Spike, who hissed and cursed at him, but didn’t die as the killer had suspected. The reaper stepped back a few paces. It allowed Spike to get to his feet. There was a lot of blood running down Spike’s torso. His shirt was in tatters.

“I bloody liked that shirt!” He snarled, looking down. Trying not to choke on the blood that was moving up his trachea. If he had been mortal, he would have died ten minutes ago.

The masked figure cocked his head, figuring something out. Not working. Not human.

Spike charged at him, throwing punches and blocking the scythe easily. He was stronger. Spike had bit into him and knocked him to the floor. He started to stamp on him repeatedly until a gargled choking sound was heard from behind the mask. He landed on more swift kick for good measure before deciding he was as good as dead.

Spike turned back to you, for some unknown reason, and for probably the first time in his un-life he went to check on you. A human. He felt that you had some kind of bond after you both shared your woes. He was about to ask if you needed any help before he drained the killer and left to find Dru, but the words never left his lips.

“Spike!” You screamed as you saw the killer rise to his feet and remove a stake from his pocket. It all happened in slow motion. Spike wasn’t able to turn quick enough, he had been caught off-guard. Bollocks. The killer plunged the wooden object directly into his heart and the bleach-blonde vampire exploded into a pile of dust.

“You did this” He spoke for the first time. His voice like gravel. He knelt and took a handful of dust and walked towards you. You stumbled back, hitting a brick wall. You had nowhere to run. You were backed into a corner. He threw the dust over you, leaving you spluttering and rubbing your eyes. You were expecting death any moment, but it never came.

When you opened your eyes again, there was nobody except you in the street.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Many have petitioned the Mayors office due to the large volume of litter and dust that has appeared, often overnight, leaving citizens having to take matters into their own hands. The large number of ash filling our streets tells us that unauthorised fires and barbecues have been set up through town with little being done by authorities to subdue this illegal activity – especially after our newly enforced curfew.

We implore the mayor’s office to make an immediate press release and ensure there is enough man-power to make sure our humble town is cleared during the night.

You were in Giles’ house. It had been left to you. You were touched, but every footstep you made in that house filled your body with guilt.

You were hosting a scooby meeting. You didn’t have any food in, everyone had started to pass around Giles’ single malt, drinking it straight from the glass. Even Buffy took a sip every now and again. You all needed it. Life was starting to become unbearable. Cordelia had joined late, rushing straight from cheer practice.

“What do we know?” She asked as she set her bag down and looked around as if you had the killer tied up in the bathroom, waiting for her to come so you could unmask him. 

“Zip. Nothing”

“The killer is targetting us, that’s all we know. Some kind of twisted revenge. We just need to find out how he knows and why he’s so strong”

“Simple then” Faith shook her head.

“Oh and he takes out anyone in his way, so it’s not just us”

“What did the swim team ever do to him?” You wondered out loud

“It’s the tight pants, he likes a little modesty” Faith snickered and you scowled. How could she be so okay with this? She was the one that had stuck the stake in his hear, finished him off. You were feeling all this guilt and she just didn’t seem to even care.

“But does he even have any proof? Let’s just go to the police and say we’re being targeted”

“Yeah there’s witness protection! We could get new names!” Willow backed Buffy up quickly.

“That won’t change anything. We’re still killers” You mutter and everyone stopped. You had never said anything like that out loud before. You were usually the one that kept everyone optimistic. But it was too hard at the moment.

“Shut up! We’re not! It was an accident. Just an accident”

“How do you explain Giles?” you said glumly, glancing sideways to where his body had been.

“What is up your ass today? God, people are dead. We all feel it. But you’re just giving up! It’s not right!” Cordelia shouted. 

“I’m living in our dead librarians house. Rent free” You sighed, “The house we cleaned and made look like an accident”

“Can it, y/n. None of this is our fault. We gotta do this or we’d be in jail”

“But if we keep doing this, we’re going to die” You replied, “Like Spike… he was gone. Just… dust”

“Well, I can’t say I’m gonna shed many tears” Buffy muttered.

“He was… nice. The last thing he did before he died was come over to check on me”

“Oh come on, y/n! He was probably gonna eat you”

“Whatever. I know what I saw and I can’t help feeling that you’re suddenly on team psycho” you muttered. Faith was watching in interest, but didn’t speak up again. She took another swig of alcohol and shrugged. You couldn’t help think you saw a satisfied smirk on her face, but it may have been a trick of the light. Or the whiskey. You set the glass down and went to see what Willow was looking at some research. 

Giles had left some books open on his desk. He had been looking into the Sunnydale slasher, it seemed. When the books gave you nothing, you turned to the internet. You all started looking for some magical solution. There had to be something.

As the night wore on and the words got blurrier, it was getting harder to concentrate. And harder to get along.

“There’s no- no trace!” Willow said, getting more frustrated, “I can’t find anything”

“Maybe if someone did less cheating on her boyfriend and more reading” Cordelia snapped.

“That’s so not fair! I’m doing more than you!”

“Will, you’re doing the same amount as her” You offered. Cordelia had been researching too.

“Why are you always on her side – you’re supposed to be my best friend”

“I’m just being fair”

“You think this doesn’t involve you, huh?” Faith suddenly stood up and stared you down. You had been the first to admit you were at the centre of it all, but the way she phrased the comment, just made you snap.

“Well, you were the bitch that killed the poor man and managed to be surprisingly cool about it. Maybe you’ve done this before. Maybe, you did it on purpose!” You shouted and Faith pushed you hard. You landed on your ass.

“Fuck you!” She screamed. Not as cool or collected as you thought. The flash in her eyes spelled danger. It concealed guilt and deceit. It told you everything you needed to know. You got to your feet, walked straight out of the room and slammed your bedroom door. Allowing them to let themselves out.

Cordelia had gotten worked up as you stormed out, standing up to Buffy and shouting, “Sunnydale would have been better without you in it! All you do is attract stuff like this. You know who I blame, Buffy? You. You’re a Slayer all wow and look at me but what have you done? What have you done to protect any of us?!” Cordelia flung her arms out in annoyance, the glass that had been holding the whiskey flying out of her hand and crashing to the floor.

“Cordelia-” Buffy started.

“No, let her speak” Faith said nodding along.

“They’re picking us off one by one and of you – either of you – have done anything except hide bodies and celebrate that you’re slayers so you’re not gonna die! What about us!? What about people that are meant to be your friends?” Cordelia shouted. She was scared. She was angry. She couldn’t trust any of them anymore. You had given in. Willow just agreed with Buffy and she had a history with her. Buffy and Faith didn’t seem to be anything and she just wanted to escape. Hopefully with her life intact.

“Cor, we’re doing everything-”

“You’re not! You’re so not!”

“So what’s your plan then, huh? Lay down and wait for the killer to come get you? ‘Cause I haven’t heard anythin’ helpful come out of your mouth” Faith

“Shut up anyway, you just got here and you expect us to care? I hope you go next!” Cordelia screamed in Faith’s face. Faith just shrugged, but the whole room could tell that had stung her. She then turned back to Buffy,  “This is your fault, Buffy. This, everything that has happened since last Halloween is your fault”

“Get out” Buffy said firmly, “Go!” she raised her voice as a tear slid down her cheek and Willow quickly went to comfort her.

“Fine. I’ve had enough! I’m leaving – I’m moving! I don’t wanna see any of you ever again!” Cordelia shouted, slamming the front door behind her and cursing every single one of you as she huffed and stalked away into the night.

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Shadow Over Seventh Heaven Review, Part I: Last Night I Dreamt I Went to Maljardin Again

Once, April Tennant had been the greatest screen star of all. Even now that this stunning creature was gone, the victim of a hideous accident, her name still cast a magic glow. And nowhere was her haunting spell more alive than within her great walled estate of San Rafael.

It was here that April had lived in her storybook marriage with famed actor Richard Morgan. It was here that her memory was worshipped still. And it was here that lovely young Jenny Summers came as Richard Morgan's new bride--to discover the terror behind the tinsel in this place transformed from a paradise of the living to a hell of the undead.... (inside front cover)

Welcome, fellow Strangers and all others who happen upon this post. This week, I have decided to begin a new series exploring the Gothic novels written by co-creator and first headwriter of Strange Paradise, Ian Martin, under the pen name Joen Arliss. Mostly, the purpose of this series will be to compare the plot and characters of Strange Paradise and those of his novels and what that may indicate about his original intentions for the overarching story of the soap opera.

I got the idea to start this series while writing my review of Episode 26, after the contents of an article referenced in one of the scenes reminded me of the events in this book. On his now-defunct website Maljardin.com, Curt Ladnier covered some of the similarities between “Here Goes the Bride,” the CBS Radio Mystery Theater drama from which this book was adapted, and Strange Paradise, but I wanted to dive deeper and do one of my characteristic overanalyses. So fly with me to the grand southwestern estate of San Rafael and together let’s explore Shadow Over Seventh Heaven--and let me warn you, there will be spoilers for the entire Maljardin arc of SP.

As noted above, Shadow Over Seventh Heaven is an adaptation of a radio drama that Martin wrote for CBS Radio Mystery Theater. CBSRMT is, perhaps unquestionably, Ian Martin’s most famous work. Created by Himan Brown in 1974 and running for 1,399 nightly episodes, Martin wrote a total of 243 (including many adaptations of literary classics) and acted in 255, typically in supporting roles. He continued writing and acting on the series all the way until his death in 1981 at the age of 69. Given my tendency to procrastinate, which sometimes makes it difficult to write just one episode review a week even when I’m not busy, I envy him for being such a prolific writer. I suspect that all the soap scripts he wrote got him into the habit, and he just couldn’t break it.

Even more extraordinary is that he wrote and published five novels during the same period that he worked on CBSRMT. His first was Nightmare’s Nest (1979), an adaptation of the CBSRMT play “The Deathly White Man” (and not the other drama, also by him, of the same name), which is his answer to Jane Eyre and which also has some interesting connections with SP which I plan to explore in another review series. Next came this novel, and then Beloved Victim (1981), adapted from “A Lady Never Loses Her Head,” which I don’t recall having anything noteworthy in common with SP, but I may need to re-read it to make sure. He also wrote two mystery novels, The Shark Bait Affair and The Ladykiller Affair, for the Zebra Mystery Puzzler series, but those are both very rare now and I haven’t yet read either, so I can’t say anything about them. The book Mystery Women: An Encyclopedia of Leading Women Characters in Mystery Fiction does, however, provide some information on their protagonist, Kate Graham, along with short plot summaries. As someone with two trunk novels from the last decade and about fifty pages of a third--which I mostly stopped working on after I started this blog--I also envy him for this. How on Earth did he find the time?

But I digress. Like that of “Here Goes the Bride,” the plot of Shadow Over Seventh Heaven draws heavy inspiration from Daphne du Maurier’s famous Gothic romance Rebecca, but with some major differences in plot and characterization. The novel fleshes out the radio drama some more, adding additional details and plot twists that aren’t present in the original play, which arguably make it more interesting. One gets the impression that he had a lot of story in mind while he penned the original drama, but knew he could only squeeze so much into a 45-minute radio play and so had to leave many of the most interesting details out.

But that’s enough background information. Let’s begin our analysis and see what Ian Martin’s later work can tell us about his original intentions for Strange Paradise.

Introduction

The face is lovely, matchless....

Opening like some gigantic and exotic flower as the camera zooms in...

It fills the screen, flawless, enticing....

The lower lip glistens, pulled away from those perfect teeth, trembling ever so slightly, promising undreamed-of delights for the man brave enough to taste its forbidden fruit....

The skin glows with an inner light....

The eyes beyond the thick fringe of dark eyelashes shimmer with the deep violet of a tropical night....

The pitiless exposé of the camera is defeated, no matter how close it probes in close-up....

This is beauty without blemish....

This is everyman's dream woman--sex symbol of the nation, and most of the world....

This is April Tennant!

Strange to think of her dead, for on the screen she is captured forever in all her vibrancy and stunning beauty....

Impossible to think of her lying, mangled and bleeding on the rocks, while the hungry sea licks out as if to possess her.

Incredible to think of her cold and in the grave. Which she has been for twelve months--or this story never would have begun (p. 5).

The first page of the novel introduces us to April Tennant, this novel’s Rebecca and also its Erica Desmond. Like Rebecca, she is the first wife of the protagonist’s love interest, whose tragic death will cast a shadow over her former estate. Like Erica, she was a famous actress--probably more so than Erica ever was--but the cause of her death is not the same as the alleged cause of Erica’s. In Episode 5 of Strange Paradise, Erica’s grieving husband Jean Paul claims that she died of eclampsia while pregnant with their son, although evidence uncovered by other characters in later episodes leads them to contest that claim. Instead, April’s death resembles that of Huaco, the wife of Jean Paul’s ancestor Jacques Eloi des Mondes who died when she fell from a cliff on Maljardin, Jacques’ island estate.

In this introduction, we also see what will become a theme of the novel: gaze. Not just the male gaze--the obvious POV of the introduction--but, more generally, the viewing of April Tennant almost exclusively through the eyes of other characters, both male and female. We never learn much about her inner life, even as we learn those of Jenny (our protagonist), Richard, and others. April is largely a mystery, a larger-than-life figure of ideal beauty who, in the eyes of the public, is more a legend than she is flesh and blood. It’s the same mystique that surrounds celebrities in real life that often makes other people forget that they, too, are human--if, indeed, that’s what April was. Or is there more to it? I guess we’ll have to find it.

Chapter 1

The first chapter begins with a detailed description of San Rafael--and by detailed, I mean that Ian Martin spends one and a half pages describing its wall, followed by two on the mansion itself. I won’t type out too many passages from this book for copyright reasons--for, unlike Strange Paradise, this book is still under copyright--but I will include some highlights. The wall surrounding the castle “was thick enough at the bottom to withstand any tremor of the California earth...topped by a corona of jagged broken glass and it ran for a mile and three-quarters in a great semicircle away from the rocky Pacific coast and back to it again” (p. 6). On its gate,

The ironwork swept and swirled in great balanced curlicues, and the frame was heavy and studded. The studs held great sheets of blackened steel, heavy enough to withstand a battering ram, blocking any vision of the grounds the wall concealed. And the vertical members of the scrollwork reared high above the frame of the door and the top of the wall in a bristling array of spikes, sharp as swords, arched forward to further discourage any hardy trespasser who might try to climb their height (pp. 6-7).

In case you haven’t already figured it out, Martin loved his purple prose. If you don’t like Byzantine descriptions of architecture, ironwork, clothing, or anything else, you probably shouldn’t read this book or any of Martin’s other novels. (Nightmare’s Nest is far purpler, however, than this one. There’s an entire chapter in there devoted to describing the protagonist’s lush Edwardian finery.) Fortunately for me, I love this kind of thing and will gladly devour description after description of gates covered in iron curlicues. My literary tastes tend toward “more is more” and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

We learn that San Rafael is a reconstruction of an old Spanish mission, commissioned by April and built in part by Richard himself, “who personally took charge of putting in all the glass that fronted on the sea.” The gardens that surround it give it “a riot of color--bougainvillea, hibiscus, passionflowers, trumpet vines--all enhanced and set off against the majesty of rows of carefully spaced Italian cedar, or Lombardy poplar” (pp. 7-8).

Despite all this radiant beauty--and as one might expect for reconstructed ruins from the era of Spanish colonialism--the estate is believed to be cursed, at least by “the superstitious peons who built the walls” (p. 9).  (That’s what the book uncharitably describes the Mexican builders--some parts of this book haven’t aged well, as you will see.) Two men died while rebuilding it, followed by April herself around a decade later.

Surprisingly, we learn at the end of this chapter that Richard Morgan’s background differs from that of Jean Paul Desmond. An actor himself, he “was king of the theater, and of East Coast entertainment. Their marriage was a royal one, and it vaulted both of them to new and undreamed-of heights of popularity” (pp. 9-10). It was this popularity that drove them to wall themselves in at San Rafael and use the police and guard dogs to keep rabid fans and paparazzi away--which, ultimately, didn’t work and only led to “a new wave of interest and snooping” (p. 10).

Chapter 2

Here we meet Richard’s sister Lisa, who is...well...quite an interesting character. She’s a beautiful woman with short hair, a deep voice, and--most importantly--an unusual, creepy level of attachment to her brother.

Cersei Lannister Lisa Morgan.

Lisa has just received a phone call from the Philippines where her brother is. The call has left her “literally stunned” (p. 11), which means that the modern slang meaning of “literally” dates back 30+ years longer than I thought. Surprisingly, she isn’t drinking wine to calm her nerves like Cersei above, but that’s her loss.

As she gazes at the ocean to the west, her housekeeper, Conchita Aguilar,  enters. Chita (as she is usually called) has not just worked as April’s housekeeper for most of her life, but also "she and her husband, Juan, had quite literally brought up April” (p. 13); as a result, she is fiercely loyal to the family of her deceased mistress. Here is a portrait of her:

Looking at the tiny woman with her bright button eyes, the black Indian hair swept stiffly away from her face, parted in the middle and tidily put away in a tight bun low on the back of her neck, Lisa was surprised at the sudden urge to go and take this familiar person in her arms--or better still have Chita take her in hers.[...]Chita might be tiny, but she was all steel and whipcord (p. 13).

Sound familiar?

Yes, Chita bears a resemblance to our beloved Raxl. They even have a similar background, for Raxl, too, comes from a people indigenous to Mexico, according to Episode 23.  Like Raxl, Chita is very old and has a mysterious magnetism that draws some people to her (which, in Raxl’s case, includes me). There are some minor differences--Chita doesn’t worship the Great Serpent, she uses gratuitous Spanish instead of gratuitous French, she has a living husband and grandson--but they are, in most ways, the same character. It’s clear that Ian Martin didn’t want to part with Raxl, and I don’t blame him one bit.

Also, for whatever reason, he was oddly insistent on both of them having a specific hairstyle. If you read the original script for the show’s pilot, you will see that he was almost as specific about Raxl’s hairstyle, mentioning “her hair tightly drawn over her ears to a small bun,” but less detailed about those of the other characters. Just an odd detail that probably bears little significance, but that I noticed.

Lisa tells Chita that Richard is on his way home with a new wife, a young, very wealthy orphan named Jenny Summers whom he met in the Philippines. This angers the ancient housekeeper, who argues that Jenny can never come to San Rafael

Because there is no place for her here--en la casa de La Señora! Everything here is hers--she still lives here, and will always live here. Her perfume is in every room, her pictures are everywhere, every ornament and ashtray and book I keep just the way she last touched it. There is no room for any other wife here! Oh, she will feel it, she will know it, because La Señora would never permit another woman to take her place (p. 16)!

Lisa insists that, despite the risk that Jenny won’t want to live on the estate and despite her equal displeasure about the situation, Chita keep an open mind regarding her and try not to be such a Mrs. Danvers about the situation. (OK, so she doesn’t actually say the last part; that’s just my paraphrase.) She also tries to pressure Chita into helping her take down the mementos of April at Richard’s orders, which she objects to, both for sentimental reasons and because they don’t have time to have the enormous fresco of April that adorns the former chapel. (Symbolism!)

“It was a breathless and yet terrible beauty. For any woman who stood next to it had to be eclipsed” (p. 20).

Yes, you read that right: they rededicated the mission’s former chapel to the silver screen sex goddess April Tennant. After their wedding, Richard had a giant fresco of her painted there in place of its former altar. This is a clear indication that one or more of the people in this household worship April, whether literally or figuratively. More than that, the portrait glows like that of THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES, and seems, like Jacques’ portrait, to be alive, the living essence of a dead person. “Most haunting of all was the feeling that this was the woman--that she could not have died, that any moment she would step off the wall, and her silver laughter would fill the house again (p. 20).”

I’m sorry, Jacques. ;)

Coming up next: Jenny arrives at San Rafael and tries to adjust to living on an estate where almost everyone but Richard acts like they hate her.

{ Next: Part II -> }

[dollsorwhatever]

Cloe+ Collection Overview

I decided to give Cloe’s hair a shot before completely writing her off for that ugly rooting, so I straightened and gave the hair some wave/body and then tucked the front of her parting back in an attempt to even out the thin-ness and give it some balance.

She’s definitely not terrible, but her facial flaws bother me too much to consider sending this one out for a reroot or keeping her in my permanent collection. This is the one that Amazon CS told me to keep (or dispose of...lol) and I returned the last replacement for yet another replacement Cloe (So....Cloe #4) and after I get a perfect one, this girl’s head will find herself in a gift package for someone that might be able to use her. (will keep her arms and clothes tho) Thoughts on the line below the cut.

My overall thoughts on this line are still forming, since I haven’t been able to enjoy them in their best state bc of the constant exchanging I’ve been going through, but my overarching thoughts so far are: -I hate the body, I’ve hated the 2001 torso since I was a teenager and it’s frankly the worst choice for this line or any line, period. Nothing looks good on it. I would have preferred the Pixiez torso hybrid with 2010 legs and Movie arms (which Hayden/MGA did know about during the conception of this line...so idk why they chose 2001) but since that torso has a smaller chest and would therefore limit compatibility with older dolls, I’d pick the Kiani body as THE choice to be the standard Bratz body going forward, since it has a nice shape and rotational hips rather than hinges, with Movie arms added on, while fitting 2001-body clothing perfectly (better than 2001 does even lol) and the legs are gorgeous. -They fucked up the skintones. The heads are all standard Bratz skintones, but the bodies are all wrong. Cloe and Jade’s torsos are like bright reddish pink and the hands match their heads, Yasmin’s entire body is bright fucking orange, Sasha’s body is slightly more olive-toned than her OG body so I won’t be able to use her arms (though I’m willing to accept this because she has the most subtle and pretty skintone of the line and she looks good as-is). Yasmin’s skintone is the most annoying because there is no subtlety to it, it’s just blatantly orange, and her shoes won’t match any other dolls.

-The shoe sculpts. Now I personally PREFER for them to utilize one sculpt more than once and I don’t want there to be a unique shoe sculpt for every doll in every line, I think that’s a waste of sculpts especially because so many Bratz shoes are pretty versatile and can be altered with pant and designs very easily, as well as the issue of skintone matching since the feet pop off.  I don’t think they utilized enough of the sculpts Bratz has done over the years and executed most of the shoes poorly. Yasmin’s ‘boots’, for example, could have easily been a pair of these boots or these boots in a dark magenta and flocked, with lace socks and it would have been a prettier/better translation of the sketch while also staying consistent with the collection. Yasmin’s second shoes should have been the Feelin Pretty heels (even matches the sketch closer than the Classic heel), Jade’s first boots should have been the PnP boots rather than the RA boots (which we’ve also seen, with that exact paint design, several times already), and switch out either Cloe or Sasha’s Classic heels for something else entirely, like more boots. Maybe those cute timberland fakes in a different color. Also they fucking destroyed the Feelin’ Pretty sculpt with Jade’s second shoes. The printed fishnet and the flame motif with the straps is just too much and really overpowers the sculpt (which btw was only used in ONE collection bitd so two pairs in this line would have been swell- especially if they used them for Cloe’s 2nd outfit instead of Jade and got rid of those fugly fishnets and flames) The fact that they used one shoe four times and remade an exact version of a pair of shoes we already have seen a billion times makes the entire shoe wardrobe of this collection feel very unfinished and poorly thought. I can only use, like, four pairs of shoes in this collection and the others are unoriginal or don’t match any dolls (Yasmin’s orange ass)

-The designs are (mostly) lame as fuck. I feel like, especially since Bratz haven’t been OG Bratz for a very long time, that they should have referenced the previous lines to make sure we were getting something new and consistent with the quality we’ve come to expect. We’ve seen several pleather bralettes already and there’s THREE in this line (we’ve seen a lot of pleather too, even), Jade’s first top is a bland PnP Meygan top and we definitely didn’t need TWO identical mesh bodysuits in this line. The clothes don’t seem to be well-rounded, just like the shoes. The quality is really lacking in some places too; Yasmin’s jacket has no inner lining (would have been a stunning piece otherwise), Sasha’s jacket is really weird and not at all what it should be (tho it is pretty well made), Cloe’s second outfit is poorly tailored especially the pants (tho her first outfit is incredibly well made, the best of the line actually), Sasha’s second dress is massive and those panels on the sides are ugly (shame bc it could have been a nice piece otherwise), Jade’s skirt doesn’t fit that well (mostly bc of the body they made it for), etc etc.  And let’s not forget the fact that every studded piece, has studs falling apart in seconds.  Jade’s pants and Sasha’s pants are sub par in comparison to the exquisite denim pieces we’ve gotten for Bratz in other eras, with realistic stitching and ‘thick’ denim with real belt loops and pockets and just going the extra mile to really push that ‘’Real clothing but mini’’ vibe.  The chokers are very nice, Cloe’s first outfit is INCREDIBLE, the hats are very nice, Yasmin’s second outfit is the second best outfit of the entire line, the bodysuits (while there should only be one) are well made, Yasmin’s 1st top (while a poor translation of the art) is cute and versatile and Jade’s white T-shirt will be a big staple piece for collectors and is very well made.  The Faces- I like all of the facial screenings on these dolls, not much to say there. I think Yasmin’s lip color should have been more subtle and Jade’s shine dots are wonky by default, Sasha’s lips are smaller than the rest but otherwise I like all of these screenings.  The Hair- The rooting patterns are bad. This isn’t a QC thing, this is a design flaw; all of the dolls have thin rooting patterns, Sasha and Jade’s partings are very short and none of the dolls have dense rows under the partings or dense rows in the back, Jade’s thatched bangs are terrible and her space buns look like antennae because they’re smushed underneath her hat. Will have to send all of my keepers for reroots and that pisses me off because MGA knows how to correctly root hair, and these 50$ dolls are basically bald.  -The Price. This price is really fucking high considering how little we got and how little they seem to have thought about this collection’s design and quality. If they fixed all of the things I mentioned above, this line would be worth 50$ to me. Higher quality denim, more diversity in clothing pieces and shoes, thicker hair and fixing the skintones would have made this a solid collection and I would have paid 35-50$ happily. But with the collection as it is, I feel like I’m not getting my money’s worth. Cloe and Sasha basically share two pieces (mesh bodysuits and pleather bralettes), Yasmin’s ‘boots’ are hideous and her second ones don’t match any other dolls (And she won’t match any other shoes), both pairs of Jade’s shoes are a travesty and Cloe’s heels are very been-there-have-70-of-that.  The QC- a joke, garbage, terrible. I shouldn’t have to return a doll four times to get a good one, and the studs on these pieces shouldn’t be falling off. MGA had over 2 years to get this collection going and they started production in August when they should have started in April, instead they rushed at the last minute and sacrificed the QC to get stock on time. 

[theofficialcunt]

If you're down a would LOVE a little something with Adore winning AS3 (yes I know she's not on it LET ME DREAM) and Ru being like "so what are you gonna do with the money?" and Adore responds with "well I'm gonna spend it on the best fucking honeymoon EVER" and everyone's like ?!?!?! and she's like "oh yeah I forgot to mention I totally got married right before going on the show" *cue smug smirk* and Ru's all "OMG what??? anyone we know???" and BAM! cue Bianca.

I really hope I did this prompt justice. It was actually really fun to write! Enjoy ✨💕

The tv blared loudly throughout the club, the top 3 queens gripping each other’s hands in anticipation. It was hot, Adore was sweating profusely - partly from nerves but mostly from the amount of people watching them.

The crowning was in New York, and it was always a star studded event. Alaska would be crowning the winner, whose picture would then be hung next to hers in the imaginary All Star hall of fame.

Katya, Bob The Drag Queen, Kim Chi, and some of the local new york queens watched in anticipation as the reunion echoed throughout the building. Ru Paul himself was also there, standing next to Alaska with a microphone making comments here and there. Fans would scream and shout every now and then when something entertained them. Courtney Act and Bianca Del Rio were also there for support for their season 6 sister. This is Adore’s 3rd time on the show, and second time in the top 3.

“You ready for this mawma?” Trixie asked playfully, elbowing Adore.

“I mean, I guess.” Adore laughed uncomfortably.

She was not ready. Honestly, losing to Bianca the first time was hard. Yes, the win was well deserved - she dominated the fuck out of the competition. But Adore had to put on a smile for hours after the crowning and pretend to be okay with losing. When in reality she was under the impression she was going to be sharing the grand prize with her.

She was so sure of the win, she had already made plans for her prize money.

So, to say she was crushed when she lost was an understatement.

She did well on All Stars 3, won 3 challenges in fact. She never had to lip sync, and she didnt have to send anybody home either. It was a good situation overall.

But she wasn’t confident in who was going to win. It could be her crown. It could be Trixies crown. It could even be Chi Chi’s crown.

“Y’all, I just want some gumbo.” Chi Chi groaned, adjusting her false eyelash.

The three of them were an odd trio, but somehow their chemistry worked well on All Stars. Adore laughed, always finding it fascinating that Chi Chi and Bianca came from the same state but acted so different. Adore guessed it was because Bianca had too much New York in her now.

“And the winner of All Stars 3 is…”

Chi Chi and Trixie gripped Adore’s hands tightly, each digging their fake nails into her palms as they awaited their fate.

Her and Bianca made eye contact, and Adore noticed for the first time Bianca looked nervous. Her eyes kept darting around the room, she had one hand gripped on the side of her modest boat neck black velvet dress. She had Courtney’s hand in a vice grip, holding it so tight she was probably losing circulation in it.

Bianca smiled at Adore encouragingly, letting her eyes scan over the seafoam green sequin dress that hugged her body. She was wearing a blonde wig tonight, with some extra pieces woven in to add more volume. wanted Adore to win so bad. She thought she had deserved it the first time around, especially with the way that they edited it. Adore had stepped her game up for All Stars 3, investing in gowns and nicer hair pieces then usual. She did her best to show versatility on the show, and it worked - landing her a spot in the top 3. She worked very hard for this, and literally put herself out there all over again which had been hard on her after her departure on All Stars 2. She didn’t know how she would react if she would lose a second time.

“Adore Delano!”

The room erupted in screams, and Adore blinked rapidly with shock. She felt dizzy, her ears ringing from all of the excitement. Trixie screamed, pulling her in for a tight hug. Adore let her head rest into her chest as she let out a few tears. She had won drag race. She had won $100,000. She would be able to buy a house, make another album…

She was completely overwhelmed

This was what winning felt like.

Adore pulled away softly, wiping the tears from her eyes so that her makeup didn’t get ruined. She turned and embraced Chi Chi - giving her a longer hug. She had been a big fan of Chi Chi’s on season 8, and was sad that she didn’t win. They had grown close on the show, mostly becauseAdore was the only one familiar with Louisiana cuisine.

Because of Bianca.

Adore searched the crowd for B, and smiled when she saw her. Bianca was ecstatically jumping up and down, holding Courtney’s hand and…was she crying?!

Bianca’s cheeks were shiny from the tears of joy. She never cried in public, but she couldn’t help herself. Courtney grabbed a tissue from her purse and blotted her face gently, trying to move the elaborate makeup back into place.

“God, you’re a mess!” Courtney exclaimed, laughing as she wiped the runny mascara off of her cheeks.

“Shut up bitch, I have every right to be.” Bianca laughed through her tears, her voice still thick with emotion.

Adore walked across the stage to Alaska and Ru, where they stood with the crown and sceptre. Detox stood by with the check, beaming at her as she was handed a mic.

“I guess I’m expected to make a speech now huh?” Adore laughed nervously, eyeing Ru and Alaska.

The crowd laughed, then fell silent in anticipation.

Adore was nervous now, mostly because she just spoke from the heart when she talked to her fans.Now that she was a winner, was she expected to deliver articulate speeches?

“I want to start off by saying I’m so grateful for this oppurtunity man. Thank you Ru.” Adore smiled at Ru, who in return bowed to her.

“Winning drag race doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop keeping it real with you guys. You deserve to know the truth about shit, and you deserve to be called out if you start acting crazy. I’m talking to you Val.” Adore laughed, catching Valentina’s eyes in the far corner of the club.

“Honestly, you motherfuckers can do anything you set your mind to and I just love you all so much.” Adore exclaimed. “Thank you.”

Alaska smiled, bringing the crown over and gesturing for Adore to kneel down. She placed the crown on top of her blonde locks, smiling with pride as she stood up. The crowd went crazy, shouting and cheering as Adore smiled at them and waved.

Ru handed her the sceptre, whispering congratulations in her ear and ushering her over to Detox to receive the check.

“Presenting your new queen, and winner of $100,000 Adore Delano!” Alaska yelled.

Adore grabbed the check and posed for pictures for what felt like forever. First with Alaska and Detox, then with Alaska, Detox, and Ru. Then with Chi Chi and Trixie, and then finally Courtney and Bianca were pulled on stage.

“I thought it would be fitting to have your originalsisters pose with you.” Ru announced,

Adore smiled as Courtney tackled her in a crushing hug.

“I’m so happy for you Adorm!” Courtney exclaimed, pecking Adore on the cheek playfully.

“Okay that’s enough,” Bianca snapped, pulling Courtney off of her. “Congratulations. I knew it was going to be you.” Bianca held her for a solid minute before letting her go.

They took a few pictures together, and then they were ushered back to the front row while Ru began his interview with her on stage.

“So Adore, I have to ask.”  Ru started, as they sat down on two stools that had seemingly materialized out of nowhere.  “What are you going to do with the money?”

Adore bit her lip and made brief eye contact with Bianca before she nodded in agreement.

“Well, I’m gonna spend some of it on the best fucking honeymoon ever!” Adore exclaimed.

The crowd grew louder with confusion and excitement. Ru’s jaw dropped, along with all of the other queen’s on stage.

“Y-you’re married? When did that happen?” Ru asked curiously.

“Well, I got the call for All Stars and that was when we were just getting serious and I was like fuck, we could either do this now or do it when I get back - and he was like let’s just do it now!” Adore exclaimed animatedly, talking vividly with her hands. “So I was like, fuck yeah I’m down we’ll get a tax break if I win. So we jetted off to Vegas and did something super low key. We got married at 3 am so no fans would see, it was wild.”

Trixie was shrieking from backstage, along with the audience who had grown much louder during the course of the conversation. Adore had worked very hard to keep her marriage a secret, and it had definitely paid off.

“Bitch,  why didn’t you tell me?” Alaska shrieked. “I would have brought you guys a pizza.”

“I’m sorry Lasky! My husband isn’t really big on pizza so it’s better that you didn’t.” Adore laughed.

“Oh my god, this is just so shocking Adore.” Ru finally said, as the audience calmed down. “Now I have to ask, is your husband anyone we know?”

Adore smiled coyly, trying not to look in her husband’s general direction.

“Well, he’s here tonight…” Adore teased, smiling wide.

“Can we meet him?” Ru asked excitedly, scanning the crowd looking for the potential partner.

“Sure man!” Adore exclaimed, smiling smugly.

“Mr. Delano, if you are still in the building come on down!” Ru called, looking around the building.

Just then, Bianca stood up from the front row and sauntered up the steps to the stage. Ru’s jaw dropped, and Alaska screamed as the audience roared in approval. Bianca grinned, pecking Adore on the lips softly before grabbing her microphone.

“It’s Mrs. Del Rio thank you very much.” Bianca smiled, before dipping Adore in a passionate embrace.

Adore knew the fans were going to lose their minds, but she really had no clue how crazy they would get until it was all out in the open. The screaming and shrieking hadn’t died down since it was announced she was married, and had only gotten progressively worse as the night went on.

But Adore wouldn’t have it any other way.

[midoridragonuus]

< previous | compendium | next >

- x -

from: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co to: gabe69@schwartzind.co cc: maeharamahouji subject: hey

hey gabe can you log into siims? thanks

- Secretary and Head of Divisions, Ellie Schwartz

- x -

from: gabe69@schwartzind.co to: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co cc: subject: RE: hey

hey elliepop! u ok??? this doesnt sound like one of ur usual mails dont think ive ever seen u write wo grammar n punctuation also y cc that guy

- gabe bar owner. business guy. stud.

- x -

from: gabe69@schwartzind.co to: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co cc: subject: FWD: RE: hey

ellie? gurl whats ^ reply soon i miss u

- gabe bar owner. business guy. stud.

- x -

from: gabe69@schwartzind.co to: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co cc: subject: FWD: FWD: RE: hey

ok ok ill be right on dont b mad at me ily

- gabe bar owner. business guy. stud.

- x -

gabe69 has signed into the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

gabe69: hello??? anyone here?? woo hoo????

schwartzellie has signed into the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

gabe69: ellie! hey honeybuns. ive missed u whats ^

gabe69: ellie?

maeharamahouji has signed into the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

gabe69: whats going on here

maeharamahouji has uploaded a file: sserver470.exe

maeharamahouji: hey gabe. can you test this for me? thanks. send me a report when you're done.

gabe69: what

maeharamahouji has signed out of the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

gabe69: whats going on

gabe69: ellie cmon what the hell

schwartzellie: Click the file, stupid.

schwartzellie has signed out of the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

gabe69: fuck

gabe69 has signed out of the Schwartz Ind. Internal Messaging System (SIIMS)

- x -

> initializing sserver470.exe > protocol and logs will be erased upon exit > "hope it helps. - m."

gabe69 has signed into SSERVER470

gabe69: what is this place?

schwartzellie: Oh thank the Gods.

gabe69: elliepop? what the entire fuck is going on?????

schwartzellie: Look. I couldn't talk to you sooner. I wanted to. I really did. I couldn't... I was afraid to contact you.

gabe69: what? y? whats wrong with me? hon if u didnt want a follow up

schwartzellie: It's not you. It's who's listening. I'm pretty sure my office is bugged. My phone is too. I've had to be really careful with what I say in case it's distorted. I don't know how to explain it better than that.

gabe69: ellie i dont get what ur saying can u start at the top?

schwartzellie: Okay. Okay. Do you remember a few weeks ago when Carlos interrupted our dinner and told me it was an emergency?

gabe69: vaguely. i remember his smug ass ruining a nite w ur beautiful face ♥♥♥

schwartzellie: Right so, I went with him. He was silent through the whole walk to the archives.

gabe69: the archives?

schwartzellie: Yeah. Where we keep files on literally everyone and everything. You know. Contracts. Secret info? Well, we got stopped by security, so I know there's at least one witness out there that knows we entered the archives; that the whole thing really took place.

gabe69: what do u mean "took place" ???

schwartzellie: Shut up and let me type!

gabe69: k

schwartzellie: So we entered, and we walked into the middle of the room. I'm not sure if it was the exact middle or anything, but that's what it felt like neck deep in the rows of file cabinets and servers. Anyway, the archives are heavily guarded. I'm pretty shocked he had clearance but in hindsight, but also? Not really. I told you his files were a fucking mess and his permissions were probably redacted as well.

gabe69: uh huh

schwartzellie: There's cameras all over. Lasers. Devil's traps. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if any flat surface read DNA or heat signatures or something. Schwartz is really out-there about security. I mean, there's less than a handful of people who can get into the archives, and they're 99% accompanied by Schwartz herself.

gabe69: sounds high key

schwartzellie: It is. As far as I know, the only people with permissions to enter the archives are Schwartz, Irkalla, myself, and now... Carlos. It's under such heavy security that two people on shift have to watch it. One physically, and the other in a special cam room somewhere on site. Like... it's really guarded.

gabe69: and u 2 just waltzed in there huh?

schwartzellie: Yeah. And when we got to the middle, he just stood there and wouldn't look me in the eyes. He literally titled his head back and locked eyes with one of the, what I assume was, a camera. Stared into it the whole time we talked.

gabe69: what a fuckin weirdo. whatd he tell u babe?

schwartzellie: I don't.... I don't really remember. I was so weirded out by the whole experience... I remember getting goosebumps. My stomach hurt. I was feeling pretty nauseous and

gabe69: ok but it wasnt my food so

schwartzellie: Oh my Gods, I didn't say it was!

gabe69: just makin sure ;)

schwartzellie: Ugh. But...

gabe69: but?

schwartzellie: I remember staring at him really intense-like. Squinting and trying to figure out what his motive was. What he was saying. Like, his mouth was moving and words were coming out, but my brain couldn't figure out what they were! I even tried to remember later on, but none of the sounds or words I made felt right. I don't even remember leaving, or how I got back to my room... I slept with a diary that night in case I remembered anything in my sleep, but my dreams were blank. When I went to the security office, there was no record of us visiting the archives. And the guy on duty who stopped us outside the door? Gone. Vanished. I asked around and no one knew of anyone who matched that description ever working at SI. No one knew who I was talking about, and by then, his face was too blurry in my memory to ask again. After a few days of frustration, I asked Jade to help me. He reads lips, you know. So I tried to make the same movements I remembered Carlos making with his mouth, but Jade had no idea what I was trying to say. He said it was just gibberish.

gabe69: ellie this is fucking weird

schwartzellie: I know.

gabe69: so what ur telling me is that that dick took u 2 a place w heavy security did some mumbo jumbo magic shit that u cant remember and now ur phones being bugged and a guys missing???

schwartzellie: No, there's more to it than that. I think...

gabe69: ???

schwartzellie: So I tried to do some more digging about him, in hopes that it might.... I don't know... tell me something? Anything? But then more people disappeared.

gabe69: what do u mean? who disappeared?

schwartzellie: I... don't know.

gabe69: then how do u kno theyre gone??

schwartzellie: I have a list of employees on my desk for the monthly newsletter that have left the company. We publish goodbyes every month, but I don't remember any of them on this month's letter ever working here.

gabe69: well SI is a big company! surely a few slip by ur ever watchful eyes. u cant do everything doll

schwartzellie: No, but I sign every employment contract as Schwartz' witness. Even when they're mostly redacted. I've seen every person who enters this company, including business partners in different districts, contracted/affiliated help, and even have the names for people who work FOR our associates. But I don't know any of these names or faces.

gabe69: and ur sure they worked for SI

schwartzellie: The list is from Schwartz. I'm sure of that. But even she's been... off? There's something going on with her too. She won't reply to any non-related business mail.

gabe69: and ur surprised by that of all things?? ms unfeeling not talking about feelings?

schwartzellie: Well, no, but you don't know her, Gabe. It's like she's shutting down.

gabe69: uh huh

schwartzellie: With SI off the table, I told Wendy I had to look up something in Crowley's office, so I shadowed her to work. I wanted to check if maybe the city had those names on file, somewhere. They didn't.

gabe69: and?

schwartzellie: What they did have, though, was a blank space where those names SHOULD be. I don't think the person who was supposed to clean up got rid of the dividers.

gabe69: elliepop this is nuts like wacky pistachi kiddo! people fuck up on putting dividers in. it happens. i sometimes order double my stock on accident

schwartzellie: Okay, one? Wasteful. Two? I know I sound paranoid, okay? I know it. But something's going on. There's more, okay?

gabe69: more?

schwartzellie: Yeah.... After I left Crowley's office, Wendy stopped me on my way out. She asked if I found what I needed, and I told her I did. As she turned around to go back to work, I saw something around the corner. At first I thought it was a shadow. Maybe my eyes playing tricks on me. Shit happens, right? But I know someone was watching me.

gabe69: ellie

schwartzellie: No, listen! So I.... I didn't go straight home. I decided to take the bus, rather than get a cab, just in case. Better safe than sorry, right? And as I was waiting at the bus stop, I felt eyes on the back of my head.

gabe69: ellie....

schwartzellie: Gabe will you shut the fuck up? I know I sound crazy, but just let me finish. Please. You owe me this.

gabe69: ok elliecakes. im sorry :((

schwartzellie: I felt really antsy, rocking back and forth. I knew someone was watching me. I just knew it, okay? So I get on the next bus, not knowing where it was going. If someone was really following me, they probably wouldn't go somewhere random, right? Risk being seen by a lot of people? Turns out the next stop wasn't too far from Karen's, so I got off there. I went in, grabbed a latte, and sat down until my nerves returned to normal. I thought I was also being pretty ridiculous and letting weird events turn me into some sort of conspiracy theorist. Half way through my drink, I looked up and... there was nothing wrong. I didn't feel anyone looking. There were just some random people in there eating breakfast and drinking coffee. I was so relieved. Honestly, I felt so stupid.

gabe69: :( i love ur smarts

schwartzellie: So I paid my bill, and waited for the next bus. I rode back to SI, got off, and felt like a huge idiot for being so nervous. I was home! No reason to feel afraid when we have the best security in the District. I waved to Kat and sat in the lobby for a minute with weak knees. Like, I was just really relieved it was all in my head.

gabe69: that sounds good

schwartzellie: Until

gabe69: o

schwartzellie: I checked my phone for any alerts I might have missed while snooping, or trying to chill in Karen's. A few e-mails, a few texts, and then one weird notif from an iSpy app? But... I never installed anything like that. I checked my apps, but there wasn't one installed on the phone or the SD card. I started to get really freaked again. I mean, iSpy? Of all the alerts that could be the result of some virus or something... So I took the next elevator to the Tech Division. Mahouji was on shift, so I gave him my phone to look at.

gabe69: let me guess he found something

schwartzellie: He sure fucking did. He ran a scan while I was standing right there. The first one didn't pick up anything, but I insisted that there was something on it that I didn't put in there. After another unsuccessful scan, he ran his own with his.... I don't know. Whatever it is he works with. Personal code or program or something? I don't know. But he looked really disturbed. He fiddled with it, then downloaded an iSpy game from the app store.

gabe69: what

schwartzellie: Yeah, I was really confused too. He explained to me that it was probably just an advertisement for a new game that was mass spammed from a link I might have clicked and that, with the actual app in, he was able to turn off the notifications. But that's what he said, not what he showed me.

gabe69: what i dont get it

schwartzellie: While he was telling me all this and pointing my phone at me with his left hand, he pulled some paper and a pencil out of his own desk and wrote on it with his right hand. "Ellie, there's a nasty program on here. I don't know what it is, but I know it's not something anyone should tamper with. I don't even want to try to debug it. It has access to everything, including your cam and mic. Getting rid of the phone will only make whoever's watching suspicious. I recommend playing dumb while I investigate."

gabe69: holy shit

schwartzellie: I... I thanked him and left. I thought that it might just be a huge prank on me, but I don't think he's that kind of guy. I mean, we're not close friends or anything, but of all the people in this company? I think I can trust him.

gabe69: u sure u dont trust him just bc he validates w/e ur thinking is going on

schwartzellie: So you don't believe me?

gabe69: no elliecakes its not that. u kno im always on ur side. i just gotta play devils advocate yea???

schwartzellie: Yeah. Yeah. So.... Like.... I took the phone with me. I tried to keep it pointed away from me unless I had a message. I've been really jumpy and trying not to give too much info away in my emails or texts. I've tried changing my writing to kinda make it seem like it might not be me in case I disappear so people can figure out the dates things went wrong.

gabe69: ellie wtf nothings gonna happen 2 u. not when im around. i promise. u kno that.

schwartzellie: No, but-

gabe69: that y u emailed me the way u did earlier??

schwartzellie: Yeah, I wanted to leave a trail, okay? So anyone else who looked into it could tell something was up and I wasn't just making things up. And I thought that things were finally going back to normal, you know? I wanted things to be less weird, and they were, until earlier today.

gabe69: what happened??

schwartzellie: I was coming back to my office. I was thinking about finally getting back to my social life.

gabe69: so me

schwartzellie: Sure.

gabe69: :( cmon u love me

schwartzellie: Sure.

gabe69: ;*

schwartzellie: And on the way, I saw a guy standing in front of one of the windows in the hall. I didn't recognize him, so I asked him who he was. He didn't answer. I asked again, and still nothing. So I approached him from the side.

gabe69: ellie!

schwartzellie: I know it wasn't the smartest thing. Approaching some rando? But he was weird. Out of place weird. Because I know all of the employees. I know who has access to my floor. And this guy! Was just standing there! Looking out the window! I sent a text to security as a precaution, and then went to tap him on the shoulder. Then I blinked, and the window was broken. Alarms were going off. There was a woman screaming from below. The wind blew my hair out of place! I remember the tears coming down my face at the shock because what the fuck just happened?

gabe69: wtf i dont remember any alarm

schwartzellie: My legs gave out, and after a few seconds, I crawled to the window to look out. I was expecting to see the guy on the pavement below, you know? All bloody and broken and... yeah... But the window was fine.

gabe69: what

schwartzellie: The window! Was fine! It wasn't broken. There was no one below but regular day traffic! I was still on the floor, still with tears, but nothing happened? I checked my phone for the text I sent and it was in my drafts folder, saying "Message failed to send. Try again." I called the security office to ask for video of the hall, and got sent a video where I just walk by the window like nothing happened. Then I come back, sit down, and cry.

gabe69: ellie

schwartzellie: Gabe, please. Please just... I'm almost done.

gabe69: ok

schwartzellie: I called Mahouji and asked him to come pick me up from the hallway. He thought it was weird, because one? He was asleep. Two? We're not friends. Not really. And three? He's def. not security. So he was concerned.

gabe69: yea so am i y didnt u call me babe??

schwartzellie: Because when he got there, I showed him the video and told him that I must have not been paying attention because I was playing my iSpy app. He's smart enough to figure out the hidden meaning there. He asked if I needed to go to see a doctor in case I hurt anything falling down, but I told him that no, I'd be alright, but I did want to see you. Privately.

gabe69: oh hon hon hon baguette

schwartzellie: Can you be serious for one fucking second? Like, this is my life, Gabe!

gabe69: sorry go on

schwartzellie: Again, being the smart man he is,

gabe69: >:|

schwartzellie: he figured out what I meant. Told me that maybe it wouldn't be smart to go see someone if I was dizzy from the fall, and that I should message you instead using his computer.

gabe69: that y i had 2 click that weird file?

schwartzellie: Yeah. It's something he made to delete all records after we're done talking. It's safer that way. Because Gabe? I'm scared.

gabe69: ellie....

schwartzellie: I'm really scared. I don't know what to do now. Mahouji told me to try and back off. To forget the whole thing.

gabe69: suspicious

schwartzellie: No, I think he's really just concerned. He doesn't seem weird? Not like that hallway guy. Not like Carlos. I think he's worried. I think he knows there's something going on but I don't think he knows how weird it is. How twisted it is? There's something going on, Gabe, and it's so big. People are disappearing. Things are happening and not happening at the same time. Schwartz is off. I'm going crazy. There's something going on and someone who's not this deep in needs to know before I don't know anymore. Does that make sense?

gabe69: ellie where r u? u still in the tech div?

schwartzellie has signed out of SSERVER470

gabe69: fuck

gabe69 has signed out of SSERVER470

>initializing shut down of sserver470.exe >initializing self-deletion sequence >del470.exe in progress, authorization m confirm >ERROR >ERROR >ERROR >ERROR >ERROR >ERROR

- x -

from: gabe69@schwartzind.co to: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co cc: subject: HEY

um where are u elliepop? wanna get a coffee? nite cap? ;))

- gabe bar owner. business guy. stud.

- x -

from: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co to: gabe69@schwartzind.co cc: subject: RE: HEY

Downstairs at the cafeteria. Why? Wanna join? lol

- Secretary and Head of Divisions, Ellie Schwartz

- x -

from: schwartzellie@schwartzind.co to: gabe69@schwartzind.co cc: subject: RE: HEY

error

- Secretary and Head of Divisions, Ellie Schwartz

- x -

[kewltie]

title: MONSTAR

author: kewltie

pairing: hyukjae/donghae

contains: slight media fic, non-linear narrative, celeb/manager, substance abuse, fandom

summary:  The life and time Lee Eunhyuk--rock god, king of the airport's runway, lord of the tabloid's front page and Donghae's eternal migraine.

a/n: i said i wasn't going to start anything new new until i finish my other projects but LOOK it been two years (??) since i wrote anything that doesn't belong in magnetic, posted to my tumblr, OR updated any of my old fics soooo hey! this isn't even new new since i been working on this on and off on my tumblr for years now so haha /o\. i like to think of this entire 'verse as my love letter to lee hyukjae so HERE WE GO GUYS. 2-3 parts i think?? lmao I THINK.

>>>>>>>>>Part One<<<<<<<<<<<<<

[athingofvikings]

Chapter 5: Thawfest

Previous Chapter | Summary | Table Of Contents Main | Next Chapter

Chapter 5: Thawfest

Thawfest—Colloquial term for the Sigurblót, the traditional Norse Festival welcoming the summer.  Held the Sunday after the full moon after the Dísablót held at the Spring Equinox (Compare: Easter), in either April or May, to celebrate the Spring Thaw and the turning of the seasons.  Typical formulations consist of contests and demonstrations of prowess by all attendees in honor of the gods.  The Thawfest is a time of great social and legal importance; during the Viking Era, this festival marked the beginning of the campaigning season, and the winter was officially over at the conclusion of the festival; children who had seen sixteen winters were now officially adults.  The term Sigurblót literally means "victory sacrifice," and the festival is an acknowledgment of the Norse survival of another harsh dark winter.  Winter is over, and summer has won, and Ragnarok is postponed for at least one more year.  

—From Aesir To Yggdrasil: A Norse Primer

 Hiccup and Toothless soared through the warming skies, the ground brown and green beneath them, the endless horizon of the sea stretching out before them.

Spring was here! Eostre, goddess of the Spring, had taken the reins from Hodr, god of Winter.  The snow had melted and the dragons could fly again…

Which meant that so could their riders!

Hiccup waved towards Astrid as she and Stormfly darted acrobatically through the sea stack maze below, while he and Toothless went for altitude.  Whooping with delight, they spiraled through a cloudbank, soaking themselves.  They hovered for a moment at the top of the climb, and then dove, the screech of a diving Night Fury sounding around them.

It was odd, Hiccup had noticed, but the sound was very different when he was riding Toothless than when he had been on the ground. On Toothless's back, it was constant, but when he was on the ground, the sound rose and fell depending on where Toothless was in relation to him.

At first when he had noticed the difference in sound, he had been worried that he had somehow further broken his friend. It had taken some explaining, but he had convinced Astrid to fly Toothless for a little bit and do the dives where he could listen. It had been a relief to hear that, no, he hadn't damaged his friend even more. Apparently it was some weird property of the Night Fury dive, and Hiccup had made a note in the growing stack of loose paper that was his, Fishlegs' and Astrid's notes on the newly peaceful dragons.  

They were eventually going to make a clean copy of those and bind them into the new Book of Dragons. Fishlegs was probably going to end up being the scribe, as he had the most patience for quill duty of the three of them. And, being fair, the best handwriting.

Hiccup was still going to be stuck with doing the illustrations, though.

A few weeks ago, Astrid had found one of his sketchbooks and had spent the next day wide-eyed as she went through his sketches and drawings. He honestly hadn't seen what the big deal was—he drew what he saw in front of him, using big lines to catch the big details, and then working in from there as he had time. Sure, he practiced his sketching a lot—she had giggled at his sketches of his father and had given him a thorough kissing when she found the studies of her and of Stormfly—but it was just common sense, right?

But apparently it wasn't. She had asked for a portrait of her and Stormfly together, and that was now hanging in her parents' house.  Framed.

And then Fishlegs had come up with the idea of doing drawings of each person's dragon, in order to write down a record book of who owned which dragon.  And without thinking, Hiccup had agreed that it sounded like a great idea, especially after the whole mess over the stolen Zippleback.

On the positive side, Hiccup now knew that he could draw fifteen sketches of dragons, which were good enough to use to identify them, in an afternoon's time. As a side benefit, he also now recognized most people's personal dragons on sight.

And Astrid's massaging of his hand when it cramped up and spasmed had been a nice side benefit…

He smiled at the memory.

She was practicing too, determined to be as good as he was, but, for now, yeah, he was not only the chief dragon trainer and first dragon rider, he was the foremost dragon artist.

At least the Nadders were easy to sketch. With one fewer set of legs, there was that much less to draw. Also, once word had gotten around the dragons that he was drawing them, the vain Nadders had been happy to pose for him. The biggest problem was them getting impatient and wanting to see what he had drawn before he was finished. The odd thing was that none of the other dragons—not even Toothless, who he thought was smarter than the Nadders—could recognize themselves in his drawings. It was weird.

Toothless reached the top of the clouds again and they dived, the sea far below them. The water was beginning to turn green with the turning of the seasons as well, the waves forming even rows across its expanse. Soon the cod and tuna and herring and mackerel would be returning from the warmer waters to the south, and they would be fishing to their hearts' content. Hiccup was looking forward to seeing what men and dragons could do together when fishing.

He, of course, had already come up with some ideas, only two of which had been vetoed by Gobber and his father.

As they banked up towards the sky again, pulling out of the dive just above the wave tops, the spray of the salt water spattering against their faces, another dragon and rider came into view.

Snotlout was out exercising Hookfang, and Hiccup's face soured, and then he sighed. "Shall we say hi to them, bud?"

Toothless nodded, and made a beeline for the pair.

As they flew, Hiccup mused to himself. Of course, Toothless and Hookfang were friends, although Toothless was definitely the dominant one of the two. Just their luck that their riders weren't. Meanwhile, Toothless and Stormfly were cool acquaintances, although they had definitely been warming up to each other, given how often they were stuck spending time with each other. Hiccup suspected that it was mostly based on mutual amusement at their riders, and things had gotten a bit better after Yule and Mildew's attacking Stormfly.

Hookfang and Snotlout dove as Hiccup and Toothless approached, Snotlout yelling at the top of his lungs. Shrugging, Hiccup clicked the harness and they dove as well. A moment later, they had caught up with his cousin, and Hiccup and Toothless positioned themselves upside-down and above the other rider and dragon.

He waved, and Snotlout stopped screaming for a moment when he looked up to see his cousin nonchalantly falling towards the ocean without a care.

Hiccup waved and clicked Toothless's harness again, taking them into a faster dive. Righting themselves, Hiccup resisted the urge to look back at Snotlout's expression, because Hookfang had been falling at top speed, and they had left the pair of them behind as if they were standing still.

He could still hear Snotlout screaming behind him, though.

Pulling out of the dive just above the waves, he turned back to look, and winced, as did Toothless.

Hookfang was coming in awfully fast.

Snotlout was still screaming as the pair worked to pull out of the dive as Hiccup and Toothless watched.

"Uh oh," Hiccup said, then he and Toothless both winced as the other pair almost succeeded.

Hookfang's belly hit the water, and the red dragon and idiot rider went skipping across the waves like a stone.  

Hiccup and Toothless watched, their heads bouncing and faces grimacing in unison, as Hookfang bounced once… twice… three times… four… across the waves before he managed to get enough wind under his wings to take flight once more.

Banking, they turned back to the soaked pair, who were gasping with the appreciation that only a near-brush with death grants.

"You two okay?" Hiccup called out.

"I totally meant to do that," Snotlout shouted back with transparently fake bravado. "It's all part of my Thawfest strategy!"  He struck a pose.  "What do you think?"

"Awful lot of screaming for something you planned on doing!" Hiccup called back.

"It was the first time we tried that!  But, hey, it worked!"

The two boys and their dragons were flying upwards, gaining altitude, and then Snotlout pointed. "Hey, look, longboats!" He turned his head, mentally tracking landmarks.  "Hey, Hiccup, doesn't it look like they're heading for Berk?"

Hiccup looked.  A pair of longboats, wakes easily visible from up here, was indeed sailing straight towards Berk.  "Sure seems so!" he called back.

Snotlout grinned and turned Hookfang's head towards the ship.  "C'mon, cuz!  Let's go say hello!"  And, with that he and Hookfang dove again.

Hiccup sighed. "Let's follow them, bud, and make sure that they don't set the ships on fire or something."

 ###

"Look, dragons!" the cry came up from the bow, terror in the boy's voice.

The captain looked up into the blue sky, studded with clouds, and squinted.  A pair of winged shapes were quickly heading towards them.

A moment later, the shapes of young men on their backs became clear, and he called out, "We're near!  Just as the stories said!  Berk has tamed dragons!"

He began waving his arms at the pair of dragons and their riders, and a few heartbeats later—a very brief time, as the captain's heart was beating fast—the two dragons began to circle the boat at a range of perhaps twenty or thirty yards, the young men, still beardless boys from what he could see, waving back.

"Hello the ship!" the one on the back of the black one called out, his hands cupped around his mouth.  "Are you sailing for Berk?!"

"Indeed!  We are coming for your Thawfest, with letters and tribute from King Adalwin ua Imair, King of Vedrarfjord!  Can you point us the way?!" he called back.  "I am Ragnell ua Imair, his kinsman and captain of these ships!"

"You're already on the right bearing!" the boy called back.  "You'll get there just after lunch!  Just be careful of the sea stacks!  You might want to shift your heading a bit to larboard and then come around the coastline!"

"Much obliged!  I look forward to meeting your chief, and his son the dragon tamer!" he called back.

The one on the back of the red dragon almost fell out of his saddle, he twisted around so hard at Ragnell's statement.  Only a pair of belaying lines attached to his saddle kept him from hitting the waves a dozen feet below him.  

Ragnell called out, "Boy, are you okay?!" as the young man clambered back into his saddle, his dragon straightening and leveling out to help him, which took them further away from the ship.

"He's fine!" the other boy said, a very odd tone in his voice that Ragnell could hear even from where he was standing, and then shook his head like a dog shaking off water. "I'll ride on ahead and let them know that you're coming!"

And with that, they both were gone, rapidly diminishing dots shrinking in the distance.  

###

A few hours later, Hiccup stood next to his father on the docks, wearing his best furs and tunic and freshly bathed and groomed, watching ships come in.  

He'd come back, told his dad, and promptly been marched off to the bathhouse, even though it wasn't Wash Day.  Noble visitors were coming, and they had to look their best as befitting their positions as the hosts.  

The first two ships to arrive, which he'd met on their way in over an hour ago, had been from Adalwin Ua Imir, the King of Vedrarfjord.  That was a Norse city down on the south-eastern Eirish coast, from what he'd been told by Gobber in a hurried summary as they'd gotten ready for their arrival.  Captain Ragnell had turned out to be a tall dark-haired Norseman with a weatherbeaten face, a ready smile, and a few missing fingertips that he claimed he had lost in a swordfight.  When he'd been introduced to Hiccup as Stoick's son, there had been the exasperating (to Hiccup) glance by the man from him to his dad, and then back.  Oh, yes, he could tell exactly what the man had been thinking.

But then another ship had arrived before they'd even had a chance to head back up the ramp to the village. At least he and his dad hadn't had to make two trips; Astrid had spotted this one, and she had come in with the news while he'd been getting scrubbed with harsh soap and doused with buckets of steaming water by Braun.  They were from the Isle of Manau, carrying a messenger from King Echmarcach mac Ragnaill, who ruled over a good portion of the area around the Eirish Sea and had taken tribute from Berk many times when Hiccup was growing up, to keep the village from being raided.  Certainly the king's man, Bran mac Muchada, another stout Norseman about the same age as his dad, hadn't changed; he looked like he had swallowed some unripe apples or something like that when he'd stepped off of the ship.  He, at least, had met Hiccup before, and wasn't nearly as careful with hiding his contempt at Hiccup's scrawniness… which was oddly almost relieving.  Hiccup had caught him sneering down at him at one point, and had simply leaned on Toothless's back pointedly with a smile and a raised eyebrow.  

Now Bran's ship was emptied of his men and tied up at the dock, but the visitors weren't walking up to the village.  No, they were sticking around to see who was coming in next.  That was because another ship was about to sail through the sea stacks. The trio of horn blasts announcing its arrival had sounded while they'd been greeting Bran, and Astrid had flown down to tell them a few moments ago.  The new ship had managed to sail through the waters around Berk unnoticed or at least unchallenged, by any of the riders who had been flying around all morning.  Which meant that Hiccup and his dad had no idea who was aboard, although it was probably more merchants.

So now at least he had Astrid standing next to him.  She was looking a bit windswept and soaked from sea-spray, with a giant grin on her face from her stunts in the sea stack maze on Stormfly.  But they couldn't hold hands, due to the formality of the occasion. As far as everyone was concerned, her position here was that of another rider who had spotted an incoming ship.  

As the newcomers pulled up to the dockside, his dad went up to meet them.  One man from the new ship stepped forward to the edge of the gangplank and prepared to speak.  Near him, Hiccup heard Bran take in a sharp breath and rudely call out, "Finnian mac Seamus!"

The redhaired Eirishman whirled and looked at the sea king's envoy.  "Bran!  What are you doing here!?"

"Paying a visit to a long-held ally, you traitor!"  

Before things had a chance to degenerate further as Hiccup watched, his dad moved forward. "Captain mac Seamus!  I welcome you to Berk and offer you my hospitality.  Do you accept?"

The man bowed and nodded. "Aye, I do, on behalf of my lord, Ímar mac Arailt, King of Dubh Linn!"

There was a sudden scuffling noise from the direction of Bran's men, and Hiccup, his dad, and Astrid turned to look.  Bran's men were looking surly and belligerent at the newcomers.  Hands were on weapon hilts, faces were set with grimaces of anger, and more than a few crouched in fighting stances.  Astrid commented quietly to Hiccup in a tone of sarcastic surprise, "Think they know each other?"

Hiccup snorted and said quietly back, "No, I think that this is just their way of saying hello. Must be some special tradition back where they come from."

Stoick rolled his eyes, either at their banter or at the behavior of his guests, and then walked forward until he was standing between the two envoys with a blunt expression on his face.  "Aye, yeh have a history between yeh, but yeh are both here under my hospitality.  If yeh don't like that, take it outside."  He pointed out past the sea stacks, just as another ship was suddenly visible through the spray. Belatedly, the horn started blowing the three blasts alerting the village to an incoming ship.

Stoick sighed. "Head up to the village.  We will have a formal welcome at dinner tonight. I'll have someone guide yeh."

As the two groups, watching each other cautiously, walked up towards the village and guest quarters, led by Snotlout, Hiccup walked over to his dad.  "What's their issue?"

His father scoffed. "I don't pay much attention to the issues of outsiders, but this one's hard to forget.  Mac Arailt and Echmarcach are both of the Uí Ímair." Hiccup nodded.  They were the descendants of Ivar, the legendary Viking from a hundred and fifty years ago.  "But they don't get along very well."

"Oh?" Hiccup asked with a smirk, remembering the look on Seamus's face when he'd seen Bran. "Why do I think that that's an understatement?"

"Aye, yeh are not wrong.  Echmarcach used to rule Dubh Linn some years back… before mac Arailt forced him out."

Hiccup whistled and gave a nervous chuckle.  "Yay. Great."

"Aye.  And now let's see who stirs the pot next," Stoick said gravely.  "I'd dearly love to know who this one is."  He suddenly quirked an eyebrow.  "Hiccup.  Dragon patrols.  Plan them and post them after we're done with all of this.  I want to know who is paying us a visit in the future before they get to our harbor."

Hiccup nodded. "Sure thing, dad.  Um… any guesses as to who that is?"

Stoick just sighed. "Trouble.  Details to be determined."

The ship pulled in shortly, and another man stepped forward at the gangplank.  "Greetings, Mighty Stoick, I am Maredudd ap Gruffydd, son of Gruffydd ap Llywelyn, King of Gwynedd!  I bring greetings and glad tidings from my noble father on this happy day!"

Hiccup's father bowed and said, "Welcome to my shore, Maredudd.  I accept your greetings and glad tidings, and offer you my hospitality."

"I most graciously accept!" the man said, and walked down the gangplank to shake Stoick's hands.  

"We will be having a welcoming feast for you and the other guests that have arrived today," he said.  "Please, come ashore and enjoy my hospitality."

"Thank you!" And then Hiccup watched the rest of the sentence sink in as the man paused and then looked at Stoick, eyes widening in surprise and a sickly half-smile slowly forming on his face. "Other… guests?"

"Aye.  Yeh are not the first to arrive today.  We've had envoys from Manau, Vedrarfjord and Dubh Linn… so far."

"I… I see.  Thank you, my good lord," the fellow said with some difficulty.  

Stoick smiled. "Aye.  Here, this is my son Hiccup.  He will show you and your party to where you can prepare."

The man looked at Hiccup and did a double take so intense that it was almost painful to watch.  

Hiccup sighed to himself. Captain Ragnell had reacted pretty much exactly the same way.

He turned to the Welshman and said, "If you'll follow me, please?"

Still not recovered from his shock, the man mutely nodded.  Hiccup just hoped nastily that he'd given himself whiplash with that double take.  

As they walked up the ramp to the village, he tried to stick to the needs of hospitality, and not think dark thoughts at the men who had clearly expected someone… taller, to be the Dragon Hero.  

But it was hard, and he kept thinking back to that moment on his doorstep the morning he had shot down Toothless.

Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you've brought me the wrong offspring! I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts, and glory on the side! This here, this is a talkin' fishbone.  

At least his dad accepted him more… now.  

But… well…

He scowled when he had an opportune moment facing away from the Welshman, which made Toothless look at him with concern.  Then it was back to being a polite host, and he brought the man over to the bath house so that he and his men could freshen up if they wished.

It was already packed with the other visitors, and you could cut the tension between Bran and Finnian with a knife and use it as bricks.  

Hiccup just handed them off to Braun and Hilda, and then fled with Astrid.  He needed to get this off of his chest or rupture something.

###

That evening, Hiccup sat in the mead hall in the chair next to his father's throne, with about half of Berk present to watch the four outsider nobles come before their chief and politely grovel, in addition to most of a score of foreign traders that were unfamiliar to them; the latter had been dribbling in over the last few days, and wanted to petition the chief to be allowed to make a market at the festival.  

His dad sat on his throne, the very image of a Viking barbarian chieftain.  Next to them were Toothless and Thornado, sitting on carved stone slabs, and his father's council of advisers flanking them, featuring the four other clan heads, plus Gobber as steward, Spitelout as marshal, and with Gothi's chair currently empty as she blessed the assembly.  Front and center before them were the outsider visitors, in a place of honor, occupying several tables all by themselves, nobles in front, merchants behind.

Hiccup just remembered the last time he tried sitting in his dad's throne.  His rear hadn't touched the back of the chair, his feet had dangled off the floor, and he could have put his spread hands between his thighs and the sides of the chair without them touching.  That had been so very utterly encouraging.

As Gothi went through the ritual welcome thanking Njord for his forbearance and wisdom in allowing the ships to cross his seas, Hiccup just stewed in his irritation and frustration. Apparently, when a king sent an envoy specifically to meet with the fabled Dragon Hero—and he was going to strangle Chestnut for that saga if he ever caught the skald alone in a room somewhere—they expected the Hero (capitalized; you could hear it) to look the part!  

They didn't come hundreds of miles across the storm-blown sea just to see a scrawny talking fishbone!  

A hint of motion caught his eye.  Looking, he saw Astrid giving him a sympathetic, if wry, smile from where she was sitting with the rest of her clan.  They'd had a good talk after he'd handed off the Welsh prince's party. Well.  Mostly they'd talked.  But they'd also had a few minutes unchaperoned, with the adults running around dealing with the sudden influx of visitors, so they'd taken advantage of the moment for some deeply enjoyable—and heavy—kissing.

Fortunately, they'd managed to keep enough control of themselves and their nuzzling so that they had been back to a demure and chaste personal distance by the time Gobber had found them.  Hiccup had even managed to keep his formal clothes from being mussed, by some direct blessing of Freyja.  

He gave her a wistful half-smile and cocked his head to the side, indicating the spot where Toothless was currently curled up.  He would love to have her sitting there next to him, the two of them holding hands, until this whole agonizing formality was over.

She smirked and rolled her eyes upwards.  Yeah… but there was the little hitch that she wasn't legally betrothed to him, and wasn't more than his girlfriend.  On top of that, they weren't even legally adults yet—and wouldn't be until Manni's Day, after Thawfest—so even if they were betrothed, it would be "unseemly" for her to be up here with him as part of the family just yet.

Well, that was coming, if he had anything to say about it.  He wanted her… and, by a miracle that he still gave thanks for every day to each of the gods, she wanted him.  And when it came time for that… he'd show these outsiders that she hadn't picked poorly in him, that he wasn't some fluke or accident, that she'd chosen wisely… that he wasn't…

He sighed.

That he wasn't Useless.

That she wasn't better off with someone else because he didn't fit the image of the Dragon Hero that others imagined.  

He'd show them all that she'd made the right choice… that he was good enough for her.

He caught one last sympathetic look from Astrid as the blessings concluded, and then shifted his attention to the four noble visitors, sitting at the tables nearby.  He did his best to keep a scowl off of his face.  Of the three new envoys, all three and their honor guards had looked at him in shock for not living up to their expectations.

Having Toothless next to him was helping… at least a little bit.  Well, for certain values of 'helping.'  Thornado was blase about the whole Thing, and just sat at the foot of his dad's throne.  Toothless, on the other hand, was intrigued, and was staring at the visitors with his big wide eyes filled with curiosity.  

Unfortunately, having a Night Fury stare at them with giant green and black eyes wasn't doing very much good for the visitors' self-control either.  Hiccup had to keep a firm hand on Toothless's collar, and knew that the only thing that was keeping his friend from getting up and walking over to inspect the newcomers with a full sniff, and maybe a lick, was that Toothless could tell Hiccup didn't want him to.  

Hopefully that would last through at least the introductions.

Hopefully.

He sagged in his chair for a moment before forcing himself to sit up straight again as Gothi finished with her blessing and resumed her seat.

In the expectant hush that followed, his dad stood and walked forward, looming over the noble visitors.  "I greet all of yeh, who have traveled far and risked much.  Yer bravery and skills are worthy of note.  The hospitality of my hall is offered to yeh. I know that the journey was long and fraught, and not made lightly.  Know that I know this, and extend my hand to yeh."  He turned and sat back down.  "Now, I believe that yeh have messages for me?"

All four of the noble visitors went to stand at once.

Bran looked at Finnian and sneered, while Ragnell tried to step forward first, and Gruffydd tried to push ahead.

"I claim the right to go first!" Bran said, trying to elbow his way to the fore as Hiccup watched, trying not to laugh.  "I have spoken with Stoick before, and claim precedence!"

"And that's why you shouldn't go first!  Let someone with less familiarity speak!" Finnian said heatedly.

As they argued, Hiccup leaned over to Gobber.  "Why are they arguing like me and Snotlout, or the twins?  I thought that they were supposed to be adults?" he whispered.

"None of them want to go last and get left in the shadow.  They're all here bringing tribute, see the boxes?  They want to make a good impression."

Hiccup snorted. "Well, they're doing a great job!" he said quietly.

Gobber laughed softly and then raised his voice.  "Stoick, can I make a suggestion?"

His dad rolled his eyes as the nobles continued to argue.  "Please."

Gobber chortled and said, "Gentlemen, gentlemen!  Please! Might I suggest that we solve this in a simple, unbiased manner?"

They all paused and looked at Hiccup's mentor.  "Aye?" said Gruffydd after a pause.  In the background, a number of the Hooligans looked disappointed at the ending to the free entertainment.  

"Aye.  Since we won't be able to agree on who goes first by arguing over it, might I suggest that we go in alphabetical order?" Gobber said with a smirk.  

The four nobles all looked at each other and then nodded.  

Then Gruffydd said, "But in whose alphabet?"

There was a moment's pause as everyone seemed to consider the question… and before they could start arguing over that, Hiccup's dad sighed and said, "Mine, as host.  And in order of yer kingdoms.  Does that make yeh all happy?"  His tone made it very clear that they had better be happy.

They all nodded like marionettes.

With that settled, Captain Finnian mac Seamus of Dubh Linn, a smile on his face, approached him and his father.  He had a scroll in one hand and one of his honor guard at his side was carrying a coffer.

Breaking the seal, the captain gently cleared his throat and unfurled the scroll.

"'To Stoick the Vast, Chieftain of the Hooligan Tribe, Leader of Berk, Lord of Dragons, from King Ímar mac Arailt of Dubh Linn, I send greetings,'" he read.

"'We congratulate you on your victory, and your new dominion.  Assuming that even a tenth of what the merchant told Us was truth before God, you have dared greatly and won glory and respect.  I acknowledge you as a brother lord, and wish only peace between us. With my captain, I have sent you a gift as proof of my sincerity and my desire to see the two of us reach an accord. Sincerely, King Ímar mac Arailt of Dubh Linn.'"  With a few fumbling motions, the captain rerolled the scroll and knelt before Stoick, extending the roll of paper towards him.

Hiccup's father took it and set it aside; even sitting, he was taller than the man was standing, and it looked… regal and impressive.  Hiccup would just look like… well, like a child sitting in his father's chair, playing. "Thank you, and thanks to your lord for his kind words," Stoick said.  

"And my liege's gift to you," the captain said, taking the coffer and a key from his man standing at his side, and handed both items to Stoick.  

Opening the coffer, Stoick blinked and reached into it.  "A book?"

"A Bible, my lord. Illuminated by the monks of Dubh Linn monasteries, with art that depicts the life of our Lord and Savior."

Stoick nodded gamely and returned a few platitudes to the captain, who moved off to the side to allow Bran to approach.  The book was placed off to the side on a table, and Toothless sniffed at it and then made a face.

Over the next twenty minutes, the scene repeated itself three more times.  Gwynedd offered a fine sword, once wielded by the Gwynedd King Llywelyn ap Seissyll.  Manau sent a great war-ax named Arm-Biter, once the possession of a famous Viking. Vedrarfjord gave a substantial purse of copper coins.  At their seats, Bran and Maredudd politely sneered at each other for having had the same idea.

Hiccup was doing his best to keep a straight face as he thought on what he was seeing and what Gobber had told him.  He didn't like where this was going.  Each of the other kings acknowledged his father, said that they wanted to be peaceful, and offered a gift.  

It had taken him half of the presentation to realize that they were actually bribes.  Gobber's comment about wanting to make a good impression… and the fact that Bran was giving his dad something valuable, and not the other way around, had bounced around Hiccup's skull, and he'd practically jumped in his chair when he realized that they were offering Danegeld to Berk.  Bribes to not come and raid—or conquer—their lands.  That was what Vikings had been doing for the last few hundred years, after all.  Berk had been one of the bases of operation for the raids all up and down the Eirish, Alban, Welsh, and Saxon coastlines.

And now… thanks to him, things had changed.  Berk wasn't the place of stubborn Vikings that barely managed to survive their war with the dragons anymore.  His dad had an army of battle-hardened warriors now… who rode dragons.  And who didn't have to worry about having to fight off raids every few nights anymore.  

And given that his dad had paid Bran's lord tribute in the past to keep Berk from being attacked… and now the situation was reversed…

Yeah.  Hiccup held down a scowl.  It made complete sense that they were all expecting him to start conquering and raiding… just like they all did.  

Captain Ragnell having finished with his own request for peace—which could have been the same letter as the one from the lord of Dubh Linn,  with the names swapped out—he handed over the leather purse that clinked heavily to the chief and then took his seat again.  

As his dad stood and thanked the visitors, Hiccup watched their faces carefully.  Even as his dad promised peace and friendship, he could see that they were skeptical.  Bran wasn't even bothering to hide it.  

Well, they could believe as they liked.  He wasn't going to let the dragons be used as weapons, not if he could help it.  And while he might not be chief, the dragons would listen to him.

"—and I hope that yeh all enjoy this Thawfest.  This year, my son is a man before Tyr, and, in honor of the victory that he won for us, we have added dragon contests to our games.  We will be having races and other contests."  Stoick clapped his hands as Hiccup rolled his eyes.  His dad had an additional motive to adding dragon contests to the Thawfest games.  He'd added just enough so that, if and when Hiccup and Toothless managed to beat Snotlout and Hookfang at them, they'd win the youth games… and deny the Jorgensons—and Spitelout—their perfect sweep for Snotlout.  "Let us all compete for the favor of the gods on the contest field and not on the battlefield."  He bowed and sat back down.

With that, the welcoming ceremony was over, and people began to mingle and socialize.  The instant Hiccup let go of Toothless's collar, the dragon bounded over to the visitors, examining them with intrigued sniffs. Hiccup sighed as the men froze, one of them reaching for his weapon on reflex before freezing—realizing either where he was or that Toothless meant him no harm, Hiccup couldn't be sure.  

He walked up. "He's just curious," he said to Captain Finnian, who was looking a bit worried at the dragon nosing at him. "He won't hurt you."  

Toothless gave one last sniff of the man and turned, walking around behind Hiccup.  The Eirishman visibly sagged in relief.  

"See?" Hiccup said, bending to one knee, thankful for all of the practice he had put in with his new leg, and rubbing Toothless's ears.  "He was just being friendly."

"Aye," Finnian said weakly.  "Just like a giant, black scaly dog."

Someone behind him muttered quietly, "With bat wings and who spits fire…"

"Pretty much," Hiccup said to the Dubh Linn man, ignoring the second voice.  Still kneeling, he winked at Toothless before scratching under his chin at that spot that the dragons liked so much.  The dragon slumped to the floor with a thud and a happy purr.

The nobles and merchants blinked, and moved carefully away as Hiccup kept petting his friend, who was making happy noises.  At least someone around here was having a good evening.  

Then he felt a pair of hands rest on his shoulders and move in to start rubbing at his neck.  He tilted his head back to see Astrid smirking down at him.  "You look tense.  You all right?" she asked in an innocent tone, eyebrows lifted knowingly under her bangs.  

He smiled, stood with her help, and thought to himself that the worst of the evening was over.  Thank the gods.  

And things went nicely from there, even with the visitors staring at him like some exotic beast, and with the adults watching the two of them like hawks.  He didn't even mind that much when he got dragged into the circle dance by Astrid and he managed to trip on his peg and the stump slipped free as he went flying.  Because she was smiling at him and they would be adults soon and they would be together and everything would be all right.

Yeah.  He was going to show the world that he was worthy of her.

###

The day of Thawfest dawned, cool and bright, and Hiccup was awake and ready for the spring festival, Toothless at his side, as soon as the sun was up above the horizon.  There would be games, and food, and contests, and music, and traders from distant lands.  Especially this year, given that, for some reason, a dozen ships from neighboring tribes and petty kingdoms had shown up, as well as Trader Johann and several other merchants, some from as far away as Normandy, by the Frankish kingdom.

He said as much to Astrid as they started walking through the paths in the town and nearby field where most of the festival was being held, his dragon tailing them close behind. It was complicated by Toothless wanting to poke his nose into everything, especially the food stalls.  

Waving his arms around to indicate the entire festival, he said, "I mean, most years, it's just us, maybe the Bog-Burglars and a few of the other tribes in the area.  But now?  Six months after I make friends with Toothless, they all show up?" He shook his head and spread his arms wide.  "Pull the other one, it's got bells on it."

Snotlout's voice spoke up behind him. "Don't you mean, 'it comes off'?"

Hiccup and Astrid turned to look at his cousin.  Astrid scowled and looked at Snotlout.  "Really? Really?  You went there?"

"Hey, it's the truth!" Snotlout defended himself.  "So, Coz, ready to get humiliated again this year?  Because I'm going to take home the ribbons for everything, like I always do."

Hiccup sighed. "We're not kids anymore, 'Lout. But, hey, sure, if you want to get yourself humiliated for child-game ribbons in the last year we can play, and by a guy whose leg comes off, I'll be there."  He smirked.  "Remember that we added dragon races for the kiddie division this year."  

Snotlout sneered and moved off.  

Astrid sighed. "Can we please kick his ass at the contests this year?  It is our last year being able to compete in the 'kiddie division', after all," she said in an innocent tone.  

"Sounds good to me. You beat him at the physical stuff and Toothless and I will work at the dragon stuff, and send him home crying?"

"Deal."  She bent over and gave him a kiss.  Pulling back, she grinned evilly.  "This year, I have a better chance." Indicating herself, she said smugly, "I got taller than him, and I'm going to kick his ass."

Hiccup took the moment to appreciate what she had indicated, and grinned at her.  "Yep.  You are. And you'll look glorious when doing it."

"Flatterer," she said, smiling.

"Honest," he replied, pulling in closer.  "I don't like lying.  I'm no good at it."

She laughed and gave him a friendly punch to the arm.  "That's the truth," she said, shaking her head.  "'Making outfits.'  I still can't believe that that's what you came up with."

"And then you damn near broke my fingers."

"I said I was sorry. And I know that I made it up to you."

"And then the ax butt."

"Well, that you deserved."

"Yeah, probably. We did kidnap you afterwards.  And then I got a punch and my first kiss out of it, so that definitely came out positive."

"Mmmh.  I'd say that that whole thing came out good for both of us," she said, leaning in to give him another kiss.  

After they had been at it for a good long moment, someone whistled approvingly, and they both looked up to see one of the traders standing nearby, giving them both a favorable look.  

"Ah, don't mind me, lad, lass, I was just appreciating it.  I wish you both the best.  Been a long time since I was a young one, but I remember it nicely, and you two look like you're getting along just fine."  He looked directly at Hiccup.  "So, you be the Dragon Hero, then?" he said, indicating both Toothless and Hiccup's prosthesis with a jerk of his chin.

Hiccup nodded slowly. Sure, maybe he didn't like the title that much… but maybe it was time to start owning it.  

"Aye, not what I was expecting," he said, which made Hiccup sigh.  "But I was expecting someone ten feet tall who used dragon gut to floss his teeth, by the way the stories were by the time they got to me."  He indicated his tent-stall.  "Can I offer you and your fine young lady there anything, Mister Dragon Tamer?"

Hiccup cocked his head, looking over the man's stall-tent.  He looked like a general goods seller, with a little bit of everything. "Got any ink or paints, paper, parchment?"

"Aye, maybe," he replied, and started rummaging through his supplies.  "I think I got a nice red in here somewhere, and mayhap some blue.  Lots of demand for those from the monasteries over in Eire."  As he rummaged, he said, diffidently, "So, lad, I hear that you be the one in charge for all things dragon around here."

With a slow nod, Hiccup looked into the tent and said, "Yes… but, before you ask, no, they're not for sale.  Any of them."

"Ah, well.  Next year, perhaps?"

Hiccup made a non-committal, "We'll see, but probably not."

"Ah, well.  Well, I have here a few pots of ink, green, black, blue and yellow, plus a nice stack of cowhide parchment.  What can you offer me in exchange?   Goods or coin?"

Hiccup reached for his pouch and opened it.  "I have dragon teeth and scales, if that might be of interest."

"Teeth?  So you have had to put down a few of them?"

Hiccup shook his head. "No, the dragons shed them and then new ones grow in."  He laid out the fangs on the little table the trader had set up in front of him. "I've got some from Gronckles, which can crack rocks and make for good chisels, some Monstrous Nightmares, which are really sharp and make good knives, and this one is from Toothless here," he pointed to one stubby incisor in particular.  

"You have a tooth from a dragon named Toothless?" the trader said with a laugh.  "That sounds like a story."

"Not much of one," Hiccup said, pulling out some dried fish and turning to his friend, who obligingly opened his mouth to show the gums.  

"Aye, lad, I see no teeth there, looks like they shou—God in Heaven!" the trader swore and jumped back as Toothless extended his teeth and snatched the dried fish.

Hiccup just turned back to the trader with an innocent look, as Astrid tamped down a snicker. "Yep.  One of those teeth.  Interested?"

"Aye."  The merchant composed himself quickly and leaned in. "How about fifteen teeth per pot?  Sounds like you'll have an easier time replacing them than I'll have getting more ink."

Hiccup nodded. "Sounds reasonable."  He turned to Astrid.  "But I don't have enough on me.  Could you wait here while I go get some more from the chest?"

"Lad, I can wait. Here, let me put these aside," he said.  "Is there anything you would like for yourself, lass?"

Astrid grinned. "Hmm… let me see…  what do you have?"

"Well, I have some turtleshell combs and some amber necklaces…" he said, looking through the stall, before Astrid held up her hand.  

"Any weapons?" she asked as he popped open a coffer with a key from his belt.

Hiccup cocked his head at her and said, before the merchant could answer, "I can make those too, you know."

She grinned at him. "No harm in seeing what he's got."

"Aye, lass, I have some hatchets, a dagger made by the smiths of Damascus, and a Welsh yew longbow," he said, shrugging.  

Her eyes lit up at the mention of the dagger and bow.  "Ooh. How much for those?"

"Hmm…"

A commotion sounded behind them, and they turned and looked.  

Fishlegs was running through the festival at top speed, stumbling as he ran, and was heading right towards them, knocking people out of the way in his hurry.  

"Hiccup!  Oh, Hiccup, thank Odin I found you, she's gone, they took her, she's gone," he babbled.  

"Slow down, Fishlegs!" Hiccup said.  "What happened?"

"Someone kidnapped Meatlug last night.  We got ambushed and they had nets and bolas, and they said they were going to kill me to keep me quiet and I got away and fell down into a hole and I just got out," he panted out in a rush of words.  

Now that he was standing still, Hiccup could see that his friend's right ankle was grossly swollen, and that Fishlegs was obviously favoring it, along with a long slashing wound in his left forearm that was still weeping blood.  Obviously Fishlegs had blocked a thrust that would have ended up in his throat with the meat of his arm.

Hiccup and Astrid looked at each other, and before he even realized it, Hiccup had hopped on Toothless's back, Astrid behind him.  "You get that leg taken care of," he said to Fishlegs.  "We're on it!  We'll find her, promise!"

As Toothless took flight, Hiccup heard the merchant say in a very hard tone, "Boy, come here, I'll help you with that leg, you shouldn't be walking on it.  I'll put your friend's things aside.  You there!  Call the chief, tell him what happened!  Call for a healer!"

And they were up and away.

"Where's Stormfly?"

"In the stable by my house.  I wanted her well-rested before the races.  I fed her before coming with you to the festival grounds."

"Okay.  Bud, we're heading for the Hoffersons!" He clicked the pedal and Toothless poured on the speed.  

"Check the docks first!" she said in his ear.  "See who is missing!"

"Good idea!"

They banked and overflew the harbor, Hiccup leaning left, Astrid leaning right, both of them furiously counting.

"I make two ships gone!"

"Same here!"

They banked around for another pass, Hiccup straining his memory to match up ships with owners.

He grimaced as he put it together.

"That's why they sent two ships!"

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Author’s Note: Oh, hey, look, plot!  :D

[oltnews]

It’s the 50th anniversary of Earth Day, but what is it about sustainable fashion and accessories designers in Los Angeles: how are they going to stay alive? With the coronavirus pandemic hitting the fashion industry hard, sustainable brands in the Los Angeles market are doing what they can to welcome customers and stay afloat. Here are some of their stories.Being innovative: Deborah Lindquist Los Angeles-based fashion designer Deborah Lindquist in her garden wears one of the eco-masks she has made and sold.(Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times) "We don't know how long this shutdown will last, we don't know who will be forced to leave business, and we wonder if our own restructuring ideas are right," said Deborah Lindquist, a clothing and accessories company. and interior designer who has designed for celebrities such as Sharon Stone, Pink, Jessica Alba, Christina Aguilera and Rihanna."Small businesses are the cornerstone of our country, just as important in big cities as in small communities," she said. Deborah Lindquist makes masks in her North Hollywood home.(Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times) Lindquist focused on creating masks in her North Hollywood home using the remaining pieces of her recycled denim jackets, which are embellished with appliques, studs and rhinestones. "For other models of woven masks, I use pieces of printed silk from my production of dresses, skirts and blouses in leopard, sari, vintage kimono," she said. "And I make a group of white masks with my friends and family in the health field, based on vintage table linen and napkins. “As an innovative designer, I have always found ways to use materials at my fingertips. Since we have to cover our faces, we might as well look cool. I think it's a good idea to have a mask wardrobe these days not only to have a new one on hand, but to keep it interesting. "Change of course: Dalia MacPhee Designer Dalia MacPhee.(Dalia MacPhee) In January, designer Dalia MacPhee was able to see the writing on the wall while watching the fashion scene in China. "I was on the phone with manufacturers who were stranded there," said MacPhee. “I knew it was only a matter of time before the industry was affected here. However, I never thought it would go so bad. " The veteran fashion designer, whose creations were worn by Mel B, Olivia Munn, Niecy Nash and Julianne Hough, began to manufacture certified personal protective equipment (KN95 masks, intensive care suits and isolation gowns) for the medical community a few weeks ago. Dalia MacPhee's Vintage Design Face Covering, $ 19.(Dalia MacPhee) "I went from evening gowns to hospital gowns like that," she said. “We also produce designer fabric masks with filters for the public. And because we may be working from home over the next few months, I also worked on an athletics line.“It's a scary time. Those of us in the fashion industry now have the task of taking the new standard and making it right. In my own line, I have created a new collection including matching mask-legging combos and PPE in the colors of this season. We must add a certain lightness and normality while directing the ship towards safety. It will take time for fashion to return. " Rolling with the punches: Alisun Franson Alisun Franson sells face masks on a stand in front of his company Amiga Wild in Venice.(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times) "With any challenge, you have to roll with your punches and think outside the box," said Alisun Franson, who owns the Amiga Wild store in Venice with independent jewelry designer Sadie Gilliam. “We have to keep paying the rents even when our doors are closed. Through brainstorming, we hope to lead customers to our online store, where customers can purchase and attend workshops in the safety of their homes. " Franson, which makes jewelry from recycled bicycle parts, has also co-created a pop-up store where consumers can purchase face masks on a donation basis. "We have hand sewn over 500 masks in the past few weeks and have provided masks to the nonprofit organization Worthy of Love, which helps children living on a skid track," she said. declared. “We want to do whatever it takes to help the community stay protected in the fight against COVID-19. Sadie Gilliam, left, and Alisun Franson sell face masks on a stand outside their store in Venice.(Irfan Khan / Los Angeles Times) "Sustainable fashion is the future - not a trend," she said. “It is a lifestyle that people adopt because they see the importance of preserving our earth. There are so many materials existing in the world. Why send them to the landfill when they can be reused and transformed into portable art? "Slow mode: Desiree Buchanan Founder of Poplinen Desiree Buchanan.(Michelle Mosqueda) Desiree Buchanan, founder of the Poplinen line for women, has tried to adapt to the massive decline in fashion due to the stoppages and delays of COVID-19."We face problems along the supply chain and do our best by making masks," said Buchanan. "We want to keep our production partners and local creative entrepreneurs in Los Angeles busy while being responsible for social distancing, which slows everything down." Due to the home stay order, all of the in-person events that Buchanan had scheduled were canceled until further notice, which was a huge upheaval. "With so much uncertainty, it is difficult to set targets for the next quarter, let alone 2020 as a whole," she said. "We use this time to create useful, high-quality content on topics that match our efforts for inclusion and sustainability. Our goal during this time is to be a vehicle for the good in the lives of our customers and our followers, doing what we can to stay true to our mission to celebrate women and meet their security and protection needs. ” If the on-site shelter continues, Buchanan said she hopes to find ways to get around this and help restore value to the fashion."For consumers, I think it will lead them to make conscious purchasing choices - buy clothes that bring value and longevity to their lives," she said. “If our teams can no longer work closely together for the foreseeable future, we will find ways to adapt. Being small and disjointed allows for resilience around obstacles. With modern technology, we have been able to go that far. It's just one day at a time; slowdown in production because our sewers practice social distancing and implement fewer hours to avoid spreading the pandemic. " Strengthening the brand: Isadora Alvarez Isadora Alvarez, founder and artistic director of Back Beat Co.(Johanna Siring) Isadora Alvarez, founder and creative director of the Back Beat Co. women's line, pushed all her efforts during the coronavirus epidemic towards promoting and strengthening her brand. "Online is our only revenue stream right now, so we really want to have an ongoing dialogue with our community," she said. “Normally, a large part of our business is wholesale, but with the closure of bricks and mortars, we devote all our time and resources to marketing. The next two months will be difficult because people will recover quite slowly. " Creating an eco-friendly fashion line was not easy for Alvarez, which has now made masks for hospitals and essential workers. The Spring-Summer 2020 collection of Back Beat Co. by artistic director Isadora Alvarez uses materials such as hemp, organic cotton, tencel and recycled cotton.(Brian Overend) "We have had problems with the fact that the industry is very outdated and resistant to change for a more sustainable future," she said. "We had to convince our suppliers to use better fibers like hemp, organic cotton, etc. There is also a problem of minimums where we have to do a lot, so there is a lot of waste. Fortunately, we found partners ready to work with us under these conditions after years of hard work.“As a woman of color, it's always difficult, because they never consider you the boss. I am always asked who my boss is. The clothing industry is still mostly made up of older men, so I just have to take a more direct approach when dealing with them. " Flexibility is the key: Mariah K. Lyons Designer Mariah K. Lyons at the Astara factory.(Leah Shiros) Being malleable in times of uncertainty is an integral part of the business plans of Mariah K. Lyons, founder of the Astara line of sustainable shoes. "We are trying to view this period as an opportunity for innovation, rather than just a break before resuming normal business," she said. When the pandemic hit, the brand had to cancel productions and new launches and work with very different schedules and "dramatically changed projections," said Lyons, who was once a publicist for the famous shoe brand Jimmy Choo. "We want to change our business model and significantly expand our offerings, [and] not only evolve with this massive current, but also to maintain cash flow and have the ability to create fully sustainable products and build a community. " Astara transparent quartz sandals, $ 325.(Oxen Studio) Lyon recently reduced the cost of its durable shoes. "We mainly ship directly to consumers right now," she said. “We wanted to change our retail model and reflect the new distribution structure throughout our pricing - with the ability to reach and help more people. Our goal has always been to create shoes that support the well-being of the body, mind, spirit and the planet. Hopefully this will allow for greater accessibility. "Strength in numbers: Rachel Temko Whimsy and Row owner and art director Rachel Temko. (She wears the Flora pants from her brand in natural and the Valentina top in white.)(Goldfaden MD) To cope with the effects of the pandemic, Rachel Temko, owner and creative director of Whimsy and Row, launched a small business alliance called Together Apart, which donates 5% of sales to Feeding America and a collective discount of 20% to customers. "Our Together Apart campaign includes many of our stores to help promote and develop them during this time," said Temko. "We felt it was much bigger than we are individually, but with like-minded small businesses, we will all increase."To date, the alliance has donated $ 990 to Feeding America and more than 1,400 masks to the Union Rescue Mission, Downtown Women’s Center and Midnight Mission.For designers, the challenge of having cash and having enough to cover their bills was daunting. "Many of our wholesale accounts do not accept orders because their stores are closed, so we are suffering [lack of] income and have an overstock problem, "said Temko. "I hope they can survive online and start taking orders soon." Having to let go of employees was "even more difficult," Temko said, but as sales increase, his staff will be called back to work. “Our production and development have come to a complete halt, because none of our subcontractors can work. We are concerned about meeting our deadlines. " Despite uncertain times, Temko remains hopeful. "It could be a blessing in disguise because the fashion industry has no choice but to change," she said. “We have already reduced our deliveries and plan to create only less seasonal and more versatile clothing. Fashion must be able to have a longer sales time and easily pass from one season to another. We have to evolve to survive. "The future of eco-fashion: Keri Lassalle Keri Lassalle, founder of Lulu Dharma.(Hermas Lassalle) Keri Lassalle, founder of the Lulu Dharma range of ecological accessories, sees the global spread of COVID-19 as a kind of “collective deep breathing” for the Earth. "It forced us all to take a break and really think about what is important to us," she said, "especially in the fashion industry because we are one of the main contributors to pollution and waste. " Lassalle believes that the industry will move quickly from sustainability to the idea of ​​regenerative production - the use of agricultural waste, recycled materials and organic cotton grown responsibly and that take into account the health and well-being of people who cultivate and sew. "As soon as the cost of materials goes down for these materials, many more companies will be ready to use them," she said. "And when fashion brands really realize the impact of creation in an unsustainable way, the direct impact, people will realize that it is absolutely essential to change course."Do we really want to 'sustain' our momentum towards climate change, or do we want to start reversing the trend?" Asked Lassalle. “Education is over there. The signs are there, and fashion brands are taking note. Customers are definitely interested in shopping with transparent and responsible companies. We will all have to be responsible. 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