#who pulled the trigger in our murder mystery show dude

[mwagneto]

watched the 2nd ep of cbs watson this morning but i truly have like nothing to say. yet another perfectly mid episode like it was fine. idk

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Soulmate Shenanigans

So, lucky me, I found this list of prompts!

Unlucky me, it was for a September event. Surprise, surprise, this is not September

That isn’t going to stop me from doing this, though!

So, without further ado, prompt number one!

Your Soulmate’s name is written on your wrist or palm

Warnings for death mentions galore and drowning, as well as something that isn’t drug use, but if drug use is a triggering topic for you I wouldn’t recommend you read

Not as angsty as these warnings would suggest, but there is still Angst

I don’t know how it got angsty I just work here

World building

The first recorded instance of a palm mark was when Lady Natalia of Venice nearly drowned in a canal

She’d been on her way home from a party alongside her fiance when she “tripped” (the word “tripped” here means “Was pushed by her fiance for financial reasons”) into the river. Her husband-to-be quickly exited the scene, leaving her to be weighed down by her skirts and die.

Angela (forger of swords and mixer of poisons, just happened to be in the neighborhood when she heard a scream and a splash) had other plans. She dove into the water, saving Natalia and cutting her hand in the process.

The two women spent a good deal of time together after that, the scientific Natalia claiming that she only wanted to know why her name was on Angela’s hand.

Some historians claim that the two were platonic soulmates. While this is possible, and platonic soulmates have a long and wonderful history, no one with common sense believes this to be the case

They exchanged love letters that were quite clear that the attraction was a romantic one.

Some historians also claim that there isn’t enough evidence to suggest that they killed the fiance.

Those historians are wrong.

Anyway, in modern days 97% of the population has a palm mark with the name of their soulmate

The tattoo industry has never had so many illegal opportunities

When your soulmate dies, the name doesn’t scar. It doesn’t blister, burn, or black out. All that happens is a thin, impersonal line crossing their name out. Some people don’t notice who they lost for days.

There’s a process to remove palm marks. However, it’s illegal and possibly fatal for the soulmate being removed.

Our Characters

Roman: Roman was confused by the name of his soulmate.

Who names their kid “Janus”?

Am I soulmates with a roman deity? The heck?? SO MANY QUESTIONS AND SO LITTLE ANSWERS

Roman was so excited to have a soulmate. He kept entire journals filled with things he wanted to tell Janus, part diary, part scrapbook, and part love letter. He would doodle hearts around his palm mark.

One night, in April, Roman went to sleep. In the morning, there was a line across his palm.

His soulmate had died, and he hadn’t even seen the line drawn. He broke a little.

Enough said.

Roman took the passion that he’d had for his Janus and channeled it into his acting. If he couldn’t get love, he’d get a fucking Tony Award.

Remus: Remus had been annoyed by his brother’s complaining.

“Oh, boo-hoo, my soulmate has a rare name. That means that as soon as I meet him, I’ll know exactly who he is! Roman, DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE NAMED LOGAN”

Remus was annoyed that his soulmate had the audacity to have a common name. In theory, he could date all of the 18,000 Logans in the country, but does he really have the time?

He and his brother bicker about this for a solid seven years, until the argument abruptly ends. Ever since then, he’s been on his brother’s side in everything he can.

Logan: It made total sense for Logan to not have a soulmate.

His soulmate would have been unlucky, being stuck with a know-it-all like him, at least according to most of the people he knew.

This was a simple solution to the puzzle.

It wasn’t helpful to waste time wishing for a different one.

Janus: Janus had a whole plan for when he met his soulmate.

He wrote it down in 10th grade

Step 1: Wear gloves

Step 2: Find Roman

Step 3: Say something witty

Step 4: Remove gloves, revealing palm

Step 5: This little mystery is over and done with, and hopefully my soulmate isn’t boring

This was how a lot of Janus’s plans would work. Solid ideas, but missing bits and important pieces. This includes his heist plan he scribbled out on a napkin on an April day.

Step 1: Find local con-artists

Step 2: Pretend to be a person with money (which I obviously do not have)

Step 3: Scam them

Step 4: Don’t get murdered on the way out

Step 5: Profit

He pulled off steps 1-3 with ease, but step 4 proved to be a sticking point.

As he escaped via the river, with money in his hands and a “so long, suckers!” on his lips for drama, he thought nothing could go wrong

Fun fact: It’s rather common for con artists to fatally give away their positions by yelling “so long, suckers!”. Just ask Odysseus as he sailed away from the Cyclops.

The con artists shot wildly at his boat, blowing it to pieces. As he went down with the ship, he barely had enough time to think this can’t be happening, and fuck this and I’m going to die at the same age as Philip fucking Hamilton and I really don’t want to go to hell before his lungs filled with water and his heart stopped.

And Janus died.

For a solid two minutes.

Technically, death is when your heart ceases to beat. Even though people have been revived after their hearts have stopped, it is death, and enough to draw a line across a sleeping Roman’s hand.

Janus, however, was saved by an old man, who dragged him out of the river and forced the water out of his lungs. The old man took one look at the teenager and decided that he needed better role models, which is how Patton took Janus under his wing and saved his life in more ways than one.

The Actual Plot

Roman is in a city production of Hamlet. His brother is in the audience, his friend is fixing the lighting, and he’s ready to go.

It’s a pretty good performance, by all accounts, but especially according to Janus.

He’d already been watching the main actor intently, smiling from the mezzanine, but he was even more intrigued when he read the playbill and realized his name was Roman. He could barely pay attention to act five as he planned out the lies he’d tell to get backstage.

Somehow, he didn’t get caught sneaking around, and managed to catch a glimpse of Roman’s hand in a mirror. Janus. He really is his soulmate!

Janus walks over to Roman, says something that isn’t as witty as he would have liked (but not as bad as it could have been), and removes his glove.

Now, he expected his soulmate could have a variety of reactions. He didn’t expect Roman to yell “Not today, ghost!”, throw a prop skull at him, and sprint out of the theater. Janus caught a glimpse of the line through his name.

He was reasonably sure that he wasn’t dead? He could see his reflection in mirrors, he could consume salt, people tended to notice his existence!

Jan didn’t have much time to mull over this, as he was about to be forcibly removed from the greenroom. Logan just wanted to fix the lighting and live his life, but when strangers break into the backstage and upset Roman...

Jan skedaddles as Logan chases him out of the building. The nerd has almost caught the intruder when he runs directly into a man in a green jacket holding a coffee cup full of ketchup

Why did he have a coffee cup full of ketchup?

Remus and Logan bicker as Janus escapes. When Remus realizes Logan’s name, he asks a few questions, but Logan quickly shows his two blank palms, and the matter is settled.

Everything seems over and done with.

Meanwhile, Roman is freaking out. His mind is essentially in a loop of The fuck? The fuck? The actual fuck? He’s completely unsure of what to do. Is he seeing ghosts? Does he only believe he’s seeing ghosts? Is he sane or not?

Remus checks up on his brother at around 3 am, only to find him, exhausted, and writing in his old soulmate journal. Roman tries to explain what just happened, but the narrative told isn’t exactly coherent. All Remus can gather is that

1. His brother thinks that his dead soulmate is alive

2. This is because some guy snuck backstage and told him that he was the dead soulmate in question

3. This was probably the guy Logan was chasing

Remus convinced Roman to go to sleep, and walked out of the apartment with blood on his mind. He was sure that his brother was being manipulated.

This guy might not be dead now, but he would be soon.

Meanwhile, Janus proves that he can, in fact, cross a salt circle, so he must be alive! Right?? He also can’t get a certain actor out of his head, and wonders what his next move should be.

Remus recruits Logan to help him do some investigation in case Shady Liar Dude shows up. They go on several stakeouts together, in equally improbable locations. Maybe the two of them got too far into the secret agent aesthetic. Logan had always wanted to be a detective as a kid.

They fall for each other, and fast

Roman is spiraling, and a chat with Remus has him convinced that he was wrong, and Janus really is dead. He curses himself for believing in the pretty fairy-tale. Yes, because love wins in the end and they all live happily ever after. He has a performance tomorrow.

And it’s really time he got rid of the old scar.

You don’t hang around Remus without knowing where the black market locations are. It’s relatively easy to find the cure for palm marks.

He paces around backstage, holding a journal in one hand and a small bottle in the other. The warning that destroying the palm mark destroys the soulmate causes terror to rise in his throat, even though he knows that Janus is dead and can never read his love letters no matter how many stars he wishes on.

He finally makes his choice when Remus and Logan visit him before the performance. They give him looks of pity. He doesn’t want to be pitied.

According to the label, effects should take place over the next several hours. So, he waits for Janus’s name to disappear from his hand.

Janus managed to hustle someone with orchestra seats for their tickets. Despite not getting off on the right foot with his soulmate, he isn’t going to let him go that easily. And Roman’s brilliant performance that night just reinforces that. If he was good weeks ago, he was a star now. Janus was transfixed.

When the curtain call came, Janus was the first on his feet for a standing ovation. Remus and Logan noticed him, and pushed their way through the applauding audience. Both of them almost hoped that he’d get away again so they could continue spending time together.

Roman notices him. They lock eyes. Janus waves as though to say Hi, I’m here, apologies for the awkwardness of our meet-cute, but coffee? Roman gives him a look of disdain, as if to say I can’t believe I thought you were my soulmate, you con artist. He intends to look away and bask in the applause, but before he can do that, Janus collapeses.

Roman is confused at first, and then it clicks. That’s his soulmate. That’s his Janus.

And he killed him.

Pandemonium breaks out. Roman leaps off the stage, Remus freezes in panicked comprehension, the crowd scatters, and several people try to reach the dying man.

Logan gets there first. His mind scans memories of hours spent in libraries, researching everything there is to know about palm marks. Why didn’t some people have them? How did you lose them? How could you get them back?

He instructs Remus and Roman to help carry Janus to the greenroom.

They race him there, everyone in a state of panic (including Logan, but more importantly he has a job to do). Logan tells Remus to run and get a few basic ingredients, and they wait. Time moves much too fast and much too slow, until he comes back.

Logan works chemical wonders, piecing together Roman’s hand until everything is stabilized.

A vicious scar, the type you’d except if your soulmate was really gone, forms on Roman’s palm, and it will stay there for the rest of his days.

Janus comes back from death’s door for the second time.

After The Drama

Logan and Remus eventually move past the “but I don’t have a soulmate” “and yet I still am in love with you” dithering and go on a date that isn’t for the purpose of stalking a supposed stalker.

They go to the aquarium.

Meanwhile, there’s a lot to work out between Roman and Janus. From “wow, you’re not dead” to “wow, I nearly murdered you”, we don’t have time to unpack all that.

But they do get coffee. And they talk.

Soulmate stuff! I really like soulmate aus, despite not liking to write straight up romance

It’s weird

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

[omnifalls-10]

Omni Falls Chapter 3: Headhunters

It’s been rather quiet at the Mystery Shack today. That doesn’t seem much of a problem  for Dipper and Mabel, who were in the living room watching a show on television called Duck-tective. While watching the television program, Mabel knits a new sweater and Dipper eats popcorn from a bowl. She reaches for some popcorn, only for him to slap her hand away.

“I'm afraid your services won't be required here, sir.”, the constable taunts, with a condescending smile on his face.  “My men have examined the evidence, and this is obviously an accident.”

“An accident, constable?”, Duck-tective quacks, his webbed feet paddling across the crime scene. “Or is it...Murder?”

“What?!”, the constable yells as the logo of the titular character comes on the screen as the commercials starts. 

“That duck is a genius!”, Mabel gasps as she drops her sweater.

“Eh, it's easier to find clues when you're that close to the ground.”, Dipper shrugs.

Mabel puts her hand on her hip, skeptical. “Dipper, are you saying you could outwit Duck-tective?”

“Mabel, I have very keen powers of observation. ”, Dipper explains, sitting up. “For example, just by smelling your breath, I can tell that you have been eating….” He sniffs the air, looking confused. “..an entire tube of toothpaste?”

“It was so sparkly...”, Mabel pouts, her mouth covered in toothpaste.

Soos arrives, running end with a look of excitement. “Hey, dudes, you'll never guess what I found!”

“Buried treasure!”, the twins say simultaneously before looking at each other, laughing.

“C’mon, follow me.”, Soos tells them, leading them to a mysterious door that’s been cut off. “So, I was cleaning up, when I found this secret door, hidden behind the wallpaper. It's crazy bonkers creepy! ” He unlocks the door and shows them what’s inside. They look around and see a collection of wax figures. But not any wax; these wax statues are historical figures, from Robin Hood to Shakespeare to Coolio.

Dipper shines his flashlight on the statues. “ Whoa. It's a secret wax museum.”

“They're so life-like.”, Mabel notes as she pokes the wax sculpture of Sherlock Holmes.

“Except for that one.”, Dipper critiques with his flashlight shining on a wax figure of Stan. Except it moves.

“Hello!”, Stan greets, making the twins scream and Soos. “It's just me, your Grunkle Stan!” His response doesn’t make it better because they still run out of the storage room, screaming their heads off.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After regathering the Twins and Soos back into the room, Stan introduces his prize collection of wax figures, “Behold the Gravity Falls Wax Museum! It was one of our most popular attractions... before I forgot all about it”, he admits before showing off the individual statues. “I got 'em all! Genghis Khan, Sherlock Holmes….”, he pauses to see a statue of Larry King. “some kind of, I don't know, goblin man?”

Dipper shudders. “Is anyone else getting the creeps here?”

“And now for my personal favorite: Wax Abraham Lincoln, right over--”, he stops his sentence to see said statue melted in the summer sunlight.“Oh! Oh no! Come on, who left the blinds open? Wax John Wilkes Booth, I'm looking in your direction!” He bends down and puts his finger in wax, huffing in annoyance. "How do you fix a wax figure?”

"Cheer up, Grunkle Stan.", Mabel livens up her grunkle. "Where's that smile?" Stan grunts.

"Beep, bop, boop!", she cheerfully pokes Stan in the face, only to poke him in the eye. "Ow."

"Don't worry, Grunkle Stan.", the young Pine smiles. "I'll make you a new wax figure from all this old wax!"

“You really think you can make one of these puppies?”, Stan rises up. 

“Absolutely, Grunkle Stan! I'm an arts and crafts master. Why do you think I always have this glue gun stuck to my arm?”, she holds up her arm, which has a glue gun glued to it and tries to shake it off. “Eugh, eugh!” 

“Huh, I like your gumption, kid!”, Stan acknowledges with a grin

“I don't know what that word means, but thank you!”, Mabel gives one of her own.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dipper’s been deeply invested into his journal. He just found a page talking about Methanosians, plant-like species that are able to emit flames. It’s very interesting to think about: how are they able to achieve this? Are they able to move so fast that they ignite the air or is it chemically triggered? Perhaps the chemical is-

“Dipper!”, Mabel drops down in front of his startled brother, who almost drops his journal before putting back in his jacket. 

“What do you think of my wax figure idea?”, she shows Dipper a drawing that she sketched in her sketch-book. “She's part fairy princess, and part horse fairy princess!”

“Maybe you should carve something from real life.”, Dipper suggests, feeling creeped out by her picture.

“How about a waffle with big arms?!”, Mabel turns another page, showing the aforementioned waffle.

“Okay... Or, you know, maybe, something else.”, Dipper clarifies, hoping to get his point across. “Like someone in your family.”

“Kids, have you seen my pants?”, Grunkle Stan asks as he poses on a briefcase, trying to find his piece of clothing. This makes Mabel gasps as a surge of inspiration courses into her mind. She turns around, her eyes becoming big as she looks upwards.

“Oh, muse. You work in mysterious ways.”, she beams with excitement.

“Why's your sister talking to the ceiling?”, Stan asks Dipper, clearly unaware of the young artist’s creative breakthrough. The next couple hours revolve around Mabel crafting the new wax figure. She works thoroughly on making the statue’s structure, working on the small details of her grunkle, and painting the right colors. It is rigorous and time consuming but she manages to get half way done. She moves back to admire her work with Dipper and Soos next to her. “I think... it needs more glitter.”, she muses.

“Agreed.”, Soos nods, handing the young Pine a bucket of glitter. She tosses the entire bucket onto the statue. “Perfect!”, Mabel exclaims in joy.

Stan walks in with his pants on but missing his shoes. “Ok, I found my pants but now I'm missing my--” He stops and notices Wax Stan. “Ahhh!” He falls over and crawls away in shock by witnessing the wax’s lifelike features. 

“What do you think?”, she asks, anxiously.

“I think... the Wax Museum's back in business!”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A bustling crowd has gathered at the Mystery Shack, they arrive in droves to see the latest attraction. What the attraction was, they don’t know but it must be worth the price of admission they paid to be here.

“I can't believe this many people showed up.”, Dipper comments as he watches the crowds arriving at the event.

“Yeah, I bet your uncle bribed them”, Wendy replies with a sarcastic grin. 

“He bribed me.”, he smiles, showing the 5 dollar bill that his Grunkle gave him in exchange for working in the ticket stand. She pulled out her own 5 dollar bill that conman bribed her with, making them both snicker. On stage, Stan walks on stage towards the podium. He taps on the microphone, ignoring the ear-piercing feedback it emits from the crowd. 

“You all know me, folks!”, Stan smiles, attempting and failing to charm the crowd. “Town darling, ‘Mr. Mystery.’ Please, ladies, control yourselves!” This garners no response from the women in the crowd. “As you know, I always bring the people of this fair town novelties and befuddlements, the likes of which the world has never known. But enough about me.”, Stan continues, getting to the point of the congregation. “Behold….me!” He removes the tarp, revealing the wax duplicate to the whole crowd. This receives a lukewarm welcome with two people clapping and another coughing. “And now a word from our own Mabelangelo!”, the conman introduces Mabel who takes the microphone from him before walking in front of the crowd.

“Thank you for coming!”, she greets the crowd. “I made this sculpture with my own two hands!” She throws up her arms into the air for a brief moment.  “It's covered in my blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids!” The implication makes the audience cringe in disgust.

“Yeah.”, she laughs it off. “I will now take questions! You there!” She points her hand to Old Man McGucket.

“Old Man McGucket, local kook.”, he introduces himself before asking. “Are the wax figures alive? And follow-up question, can I survive the wax-man uprising?”

“Um...Yes!”, she answers with a confused look on her face before pointing to a staunch man holding a turkey baster in his left hand instead of a microphone. “Next question!”

“Toby Determined, Gravity Falls Gossiper.”, he begins. “Do you really think this constitutes a wonder of the world?”

“Your microphone's a turkey baster, Toby.”, Stan shoots down his question.

“It certainly is…”, he retracts with a look of self-pity.

“Next question!”

“Shandra Jimenez, a real reporter.”, the female reporter says, holding a real microphone and a camera crew. “Your flyers promised free pizza with admission to this event. Is this true?” She holds up the said flyer in front him. This, in tow, makes the crowd erupt in indignation over the fact that there wasn’t any pizza around. Stan looks at the crowd with a nervous frown as they demand for pizza and glare at the conman.

“That was a typo.”, he gives a short answer, not really explaining anything. “Good night, everyone!” He drops a smoke bomb running off the stage before taking the admission cash box before anyone would notice. To say the crowd is upset would be an understatement, they are furious that they were swindled by the “Man of Mystery” as they all leave the Shack. No significant damage is caused save for the decorative pole that’s punched by Manly Dan.

Mabel leans on the admission table that Dipper and Wendy are sitting with a smile on her face. “I think that went well.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

“Hot pumpkin pie! Look at all this cash!” Stan smiles in pride as he counts the money in the evening. “And I owe it all to one person, this guy!” He points to his wax replica of himself to which Mabel punches her grunkle in the arm playfully.

“Yeah, you too, ya little gremlin.”, he laughs, giving her niece a noogie. “Now you kids wash up. We got another long day of racking cash tomorrow.” He starts pushing the twins out the living room. They head upstairs, smiling, as they run upstairs to brush their teeth and go to bed. Once they had gone upstairs, Stan decides to hang with his wax counterpart to watch Ducktective.

“Well, duck-tective, it seems you've really quacked the case.”, the constable jokes.

“Don't patronize me.”, Duck-tective quacks, clearly annoyed by the tasteless joke.

“Stupid duck!”, Stan can't help but laugh as the show goes to commercial. “Well, I'm gonna use the john. You need anything?” His wax counterpart’s grin doesn’t waver, but that doesn’t stop him from laughing. “I love this guy! Don't you go nowhere.”

He leaves to go to the bathroom for a few minutes. That’s all the time that’s needed for something sinister to occur. Like a thief in the night, the figure appears out of nowhere but their intention remains obvious and so, the terrible act is committed in such swift fashion that it’s almost like it never happened. The figure disappears as they hear the footsteps of Stan coming back into the den, leaving no trace.

When he comes back into the living room, Stan's face turns into horror as he screams as his eyes lay upon a devastating sight. “No!... No!... Noooooo!” His yells cause the twins to run downstairs to their grunkle on his knees with his hands holding his horrified face.

“Wax Stan! He's been...murdered!”, Stan points to the headless body of his wax counterpart on the floor. This shocking revelation makes Mabel faint with a gasp with Dipper catching her. While he isn't as emotionally torn about it like his sister and grunkle are about this, it’s still a scary sight to behold. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

An hour passed by, the cops arrived when Stan called. The living room is turned into a crime scene with Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland questioning Stan about what transpired. “So, I got up to use the john, right?”, he explains, even though he’s still shaken by seeing his wax counterpart beheaded. “And when I come back, blammo! He's headless!”

“My expert handcrafting... besmirched.”, Mabel cries dejectedly as she looks at her masterpiece beheaded.“Besmirched!” Dipper puts a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder as he looks at the wax figure. The way the head is cleaved indicates that it wasn’t an accident. But one question remains in his mind. Who would do something like this?

“Look, we'd love to help you folks, but let's face the facts.”, Sheriff Blubs confesses after Durland finished taking notes on the murder. “This case is unsolvable.” Everyone, besides the cops, gasp incredulously. This makes Grunkle Stan very furious

“You take that back, Sheriff Blubs!”, Stan growls. 

“You're kidding, right? There must be evidence, motives. Anything.”, Dipper insists, there must be something that the police officers are missing to figure out the murder.“You know, I could help if you want.”

 “He's really good. He figured out who was eating our tin cans!”, Mabel vouches for her brother.

“All signs pointed to the goat.”, Dipper proudly declares.

“Yeah, yeah! Let the boy help.”, Stan adds on. “He's got a little brain up in his head.”

“Oooh! Would you look at what we got here!”, Sheriff Blubs taunts the young Pines, making him annoyed by the patronizing of the officers. “City boy thinks he's gonna solve a mystery with his fancy computer phone!”

“City boooy! City booooy!”, Durland eggs on with his partner. Blubbs just laughs on before smiling at the young  Pine, condescendingly. “You are adorable.”

“Adorable?”, Dipper pouts, aggravated by the patronizing cops, who just keep on laughing at him.

“Look, P.J.'s.”, Blubs begins, grinning at the aggravated Pine. “How about you leave the investigation to the grown-ups, okay?” Just as he said that, his walkie-talkie sounding off. Attention, all units. Steve is about to fit an entire cantaloupe in his mouth. Repeat, an entire cantaloupe!

“It's a 23-16!”, Durland squeals in excitement. 

“Let's move!” Blubs proclaims as both officers run off, laughing as they get to their car in quick fashion.

“That's it!”, Dipper declares, determined to prove those officers wrong. “Mabel, you and I are going to find the jerk who did this, and get back that head. Then we'll see who's adorable.”

“Aww, you sneeze like a kitten!”, Mabel gushes with a beaming grin, to which he glares at her for making him sound cute. It’s going to be a long process for him to get through in order for him to be taken seriously.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The morning arrives and the Pine Twins begin their investigation. Dipper suggests finding clues in the last spot where the crime occured, which is the living room, where the wax statue still lays on the floor since last night. Mabel wraps the police tape, which is basically toilet paper with “Do Not Pass” in marker, as Dipper shoots a picture at the “corpse”.

“Wax Stan has lost his head”, Dipper explains in a tone reminiscent of a detective. “And it's up to us to find it.” He looks at the bulletin board with pictures of suspects. “There were a lot of unhappy customers at the unveiling and the murderer could be anyone of them.”

“Yeah! Even us!”, Mabel adds on.

“In this town, anything is possible.”, Dipper continues as he looks at the journal for some clues. “Ghosts, zombies, it could be months before we find our first clue”.

“Hey, look! A clue.” Dipper stops what he’s doing and looks at where Mabel’s pointing at. He walks to where she is and finds the first clue: shoeprints in the shag carpet. 

Mabel looks at the clue closely and notices something about them. “That's weird. They've got a hole in them.”  

“And they're leading to…”, Dipper stars before he and Mabel follow the trail to see their second clue: an ax behind the reclining chair. The twins look shocked at what they find. “The murder weapon!” He picks up the heavy axe and examines it.

“Who would know about this?”, Dipper thinks aloud.

“Maybe...”, Mabel thinks for a moment before getting a lightbulb. “Maybe we should ask Soos about this.”

Dippers hums before nodding his head.

They head to the gift shop to see Soos doing his usual tasks around the shack. After a few minutes of greeting the handyman, the Pine Twins explain what they’ve been doing and give him the murder weapon to inspect it.

“So, what do you think?”, Dipper asks, hoping Soos can give some additional clues. He keeps staring at the ax with the same analytical expression he had beforehand. 

“In my opinion, this is an ax.” Soos concludes, stating the obvious. 

“And is there anything else?”, Dipper asks, hoping to get an answer from the handyman. “Something weird? Something that can help us?”

“Uh...”, Soos thinks for a moment. “It’s sharp?” Dipper only sighs in minor annoyance. 

“Wait a minute.”, Mabel snaps her fingers. “The lumberjack!”

Dipper realizes for a second. “Yeah, that’s right. He was furious when he didn't get that free pizza.”

“Furious enough, for murder!”, Mabel adds on dramatically.

 “Oh, you mean Manly Dan?”, Soos clarifies the lumberjack’s identity. “Yeah, he hangs out at this crazy intense biker joint downtown.”

 “Then that's where we're going.”, Mabel declares with a fist pump.

“Dude, this is awesome.”, Soos chuckles, sharing some of Mabel’s excitement. “You two are like: The Mystery Twins!”

Dipper frowns at the name the handyman offered. “Don't call us that.”

After getting the information they needed, the Pine Twins walk outside about to the downtown area to where the biker joint. Before they reach it, Dipper and Mabel see their grunkle pulling a coffin out the trunk of his car. “Hey, give me a hand with this coffin, will ya?”, Stan asks. “I'm doin' a memorial service for wax Stan. Something small, but classy.”

“Sorry, Grunkle Stan.”, Dipper apologizes. “But we have got a big break in the case!”

“Break in the case!”, Mabel echoes. 

“We're heading to the town right now to interrogate the murderer.”

“And we have an axe!”, Mabel shows off the axe, waving it a bit with a gaudy smile.

“Hm, seems like the kind of thing that responsible parents wouldn't want you to do…”, Stan thinks for a moment. “Good thing I'm an uncle. Avenge me kids! AVENGE ME!!”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Skull Fracture is the only biker bar of Gravity Falls, fitting for the most masculine of individuals to hangout. The outer appearance is enough for the normal person to steer clear from, especially with the large bouncer at the front. It’s why Dipper and Mabel are peering around the corner of the tavern, measuring the difficulty of their current situation. 

“This is the place.” Dipper examines, still feeling a bit nervous on getting caught. He turns his head to Mabel. “Got the fake IDs?” She gives him an ID card for him, but he’s not sure that this would work because the card looks hooky at best. It’s made by unlamented cardstock along with crayons and glitter.

“Is this the best you can make, Mabel?”, he asks, still looking at the ID with uncertainty. 

“C’mon, Dipper.”, Mabel pouts. “It’s gonna work.”

“Here goes nothing.”, the young Pine sighs, bracing himself for the worst as they both head to the front of the tavern's entrance, where the bouncer is standing.

“We're here to interrogate Manly Dan, the lumber jack for the murder of wax Stan.”, Mabel speaks with a level of professionalism that it’s a bit jarring.  “I believe our ID’s can provide proof for you, good sir.” They present their ID’s to the bouncer who stares at them, before shrugging.

“Works for me.”, he responds stoically as he opens the door, though Dipper is a little surprised that it worked. As they head inside, they understand why this tavern is called Skull Fracture. Men are either throwing fists at each other, arguing with each other, smoking, or sitting at the bar drinking some beer. Dipper and Mabel walk inside, looking around before motioning for his sister to follow him.

Mabel almost trips over an unconscious body and steps over it. She stops at a moment to stare at the body. “He's resting.”, she reassures to herself before catching up with her brother, who looks around and finds Manly Dan at the arm wrestling machine.

“Alright, let's just try to blend in, ok?”, Dipper asks as he heads towards the lumberjack. “I’m going to interrogate the suspect.”

Mabel gives him a thumbs-up before climbing onto a chair and talks to one of the patrons. “Hey there, fellow restaurant patron!”, she greets the gritty man with a cheery tone before patting him on the arm, ignoring his growl of aggravation. Dipper, meanwhile, passes through the patrons before reaching Manly Dan.

“Manly Dan, just the guy I wanted to see.”, Dipper speaks with nonchalance. “Where were you last night?”

“Punchin' the clock.”, Manly Dan grunts, holding on to the mechanical arm with veins popping. 

“Oh, so you were at work?”

“No, I was punchin' that clock!”, Manly Dan growls as he points to a broken clock outside, which appears broken and at an odd angle.

“10 o'clock, the time of the murder.”, Dipper hums, looking at the time on the broken clock, which is at 10, in consternation.“So, I guess you've never seen this before?” He pulls out the axe from his bag and shows it to the lumberjack.

 “Listen, little girl!” Manly Dan starts.

“Hey, actually I'm a--”

“I wouldn't pick my teeth with that ax. It's left handed! I only use my right hand, the MANLY HAND!!”, Manly Dan rips the machine's arm off and beats the machine with it.

Dipper looks at the axe. “Left handed.” He decides to go and catch his sister before they both head outside to assess what he learned.

“It's a left handed ax.” Dipper confirms as he shows Mabel a list of possible suspects from Stan’s unveiling. “These are all our suspects. Manly Dan is right handed, that means all we have to do is find our left handed suspect and we've got our killer.”

 “Oh man, we are on fire today!” Mabel exclaims with a lot of zeal.

“That we are.”, he responds, feeling some of her excited energy. “Now let's find that murderer.” He shares Mabel’s look of confidence as they share a fist bump. They start out looking around town to find their ideal suspects: they first start at the junkyard, where they see Old Man McGucket wrestling with a baby alligator. Mabel waves and the old kook waves  back with his right hand with the baby gator biting on it. Afterwards, Dipper, wearing a fake mustache,  delivers a package to Pizza Guy's house. Pizza Man signs Dipper's form and gets excited, only for Dipper to take the package and leave. On the other side of the road, Mabel notices the angry lady  and whistles to get her attention before throwing a baseball at her. She catches it with her right hand and crushes it. Later on, the twins find another suspect who was at the unveiling. They knock on his door, only for him to  come out with both hands in casts. So far most the people on the list were all right-handed. It seems like they aren’t close at all.

Except for one suspect.

Dipper gasps as looks for the final suspect on the list. “Mabel, there's only one person left on this list.”

 “Of course, it all adds up!”, Mabel realizes as well.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It's nightfall as the cops and the Pine Twins head to the front door of Gravity Falls Gossiper. It took some convincing but Dipper were able to convince them that their number one suspect was responsible for the murder.

"You kids better be right about this or you'll never get the end of it.", Blubs warns them, hoping to be right so he could tease the city boy.

“The evidence is irrefutable, officers.”, Dipper responds.

“It's so irrefutable.” Mabel adds, waving her hand.

“I'm gonna get to use my match stick!”, Durland giggles in excitement as he waves his batton around.

“You ready? You ready little fella?”, Blubs askes, sharing his partner’s zealous energy as they hit each other playfully with batons, barely able to contain themselves.

“On 3!”, Dipper starts, before counting. “1, 2…” 

Before he can finish, the officers break down the door, barging in with a unified shout with the Pine Twins behind them. “Nobody move!”, Blubs shouts with authority. “This is a raid!”

As his office gets invaded, Toby slips and falls down, yelling in surprise. “What is this? Some kind of raid?”, he asks needlessly.

“Toby Determined, you're under arrest for murder of the wax body of Grunkle Stan.”, Dipper declares confidently.

“You have the right to remain impressed with our awesome detective work.”, Mabel adds on, smugly grinning as she high fives Dipper.

“Gobbling goose feathers! I don't understand!”, Toby exclaims, flustered by what’s going on.

“Then allow me to explain.”, Dipper starts with a confident smile on his face as Mabel holds a newspaper with a picture of Wax Stan's head. “You were hoping that Grunkle Stan's new attraction would be the story that saved your failing newspaper. But when the show was a flop, you decided to go out and make your own headline. But you were sloppy, and all the clues pointed to a shabby shoed reporter who was caught left handed.”

“Toby Determined, you're yesterday's news.”, Mabel concludes as she crumples up the newspaper.

Toby Boy, your little knees must be sore…”, the journalist starts, frowning. “From jumping to conclusions.” He finishes his proud remark before doing a little dance at the kids detective work. “I had nothing to do with that murder.”

“HA! I knew it-wait, come again?”, Dipper exclaims before realizing what he just said. “Nothing? D-did you just  say nothing?” He’s genuinely confused about what Toby just said. How could he not be the suspect when all of the evidence points to him?

“Huh? What? Could you repeat that?”, Mabel asks, sharing her brother’s confusion.

“Then where were you at the night of the break-in?”, Blubs asks, wanting to know the truth as well as Deputy Durland.

 “Ehh…”, Toby tugs on his shirt collar nervously before inserting a tape into a TV. It opens with him looking around, hoping no would notice what he’s doing before taking a cardboard cutout of Shandra Jimenez out of his closet. “Finally, we can be alone, cardboard cutout of TV news reporter Shandra Jimenez!”, he swoons affectionately before he kisses it, making everyone cringe in disgust from what they’re witnessing.

“Welp, timestamp confirms it.”, Blubs concludes. “Toby, you're off the hook. You freak of nature.”

“Hooray!”, Toby cheers, even though the tape is still playing.

“But, but it has to be him!”, Dipper argues, hoping that his hard work doesn’t end in failure.“Check the ax for fingerprints!”

The cops do so, dusting the weapon for any fingerprints, except there isn’t any on it. “Sorry, kid”, Sheriff Blubs shook his head. “No prints at all.”

“No prints?”, Dipper is confused by what he’s heard. There’s no prints on the ax?

Durland “Hey I got a headline for you: city kids waste everyone's time.”, taunts making the adults laugh, making Dipper and Mabel feel more embarrassed than they already are. They put so much effort into finding the culprit and from what they gathered, it seemed like the evidence was pointing to Toby Determined. But, they were wrong.  It feels like the case itself is unsolvable.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Later on today, Grunkle Stan arranges a funeral for his wax counterpart in the parlor. He is standing on a stage with a bunch of chairs set up with Dipper, Mabel, Soos, and the wax figures as the audience.

“Kids, Soos, lifeless wax figures, thank you all for coming.”, Stan thanks, solemnly before continuing. “Some people might say it's wrong for a man to love a wax replica of himself.”

“They're wrong!”, Soos exclaims as he stands up.

“Easy Soos.”, Stan responds, he understands the handyman’s sentiments. He looks at his headless wax replica, feeling a sob coming up as he continues. “Wax Stan, I hope you're picking pockets in wax heaven.” The conman sniffles, wiping his eye. “I'm sorry, I got glitter in my eye!” He runs out, not able to finish the eulogy without feeling grief.

“Ohhhhh duuuude…”, Soos cries out as he runs after his, trying to console him. There’s nothing but silence as it’s just the Pine Twins and the wax figures left in attendance. Dipper and Mabel look solemnly at the casket the headless Wax Stan is in, reminding them of their failure at finding the murderer. This realization makes Dipper slump into his seat, sighing.

“Those cops are right about me. About us.”, Dipper mutters in disappointment and defeat.

“But Dipper, we've come so far, we can't give up now.”, Mabel encourages as she gives her brother a smile.

 “Mabel, we’ve considered everything: the weapon, the motive, the clues.”, he insists as he stands up and walks to the coffin. “We looked at every perspective and there was nothing but dead ends.” When the case first started, Dipper thought he and Mabel could solve this easily. They had the clues, the potential candidates for the murderer, and the solid idea for a motive of the murder. But now, he’s not so sure anymore and can’t reach any conclusion. There are too many loose ends to this mystery.

That is until he notices something, something he didn’t see during their investigation. “That’s weird”, Dipper notes, as he stares at the wax rendition’s shoes. “Wax Stan's shoe has a hole in it.”

“Well, yeah. All the wax guys have that.”, Mabel answers, following her brother to the casket with the ax in her hand. “It's where the pole thingy attaches to their stand dealy.”

“Wait a minute, what has a hole on its shoe and no fingerprints?”, Dipper mutters to himself. He slowly realizes something. Despite the fact that his previous suspect had a hole in his shoe along with being left handed. But there’s an additional piece of evidence that’s to be considered: There’s no fingerprints. And there's someone or, something, that has none.

“Uh...Dipper”, Mabel asks, confused by her brother’s silence.

“Mabel.”, Dipper starts as he looks at his sister. “The murderers are--”

“Standing right behind you?”

The Pine Twins gasp in surprise as they turn around and see something that defies logic: all the wax figures rise up, either scowling with hatred or smiling in malicious intent as they creeped closer towards the stunned children until they’re blocked off from any escape. The lineup of wax figures include Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, Genghis Khan, Larry King, Coolio (?), and Sherlock Holmes, who is holding up the decapitated head of Wax Stan. A wax replica of Lizzie Borden takes the ax from a terrified mabel before Wax Sherlock begins.

“Congratulations, my two amuetur slueths”, he patronizes as he tosses Wax Stan’s head up and down like a ball. “You've discovered our little secret.” He turns towards his wax comrades, who sneer at the Pine Twins. “Applaud, everyone. Applaud sarcastically.”

The wax figures collectively do so, mocking the children with sneers etched onto their faces, but Sherlock admonishes him. “Uh, no, that sounds too sincere. Slow clap, please.” The figures slow down their clapping so it may appear prominently more sarcastic. “There we go. Nice and condescending.”

“H-how is this possible?”, Dipper asks, baffled by what’s going on. “You're made of wax.”

“Are you magic”, Mabel gasp, curiously.

“Are we magic?” Wax Sherlock laughs with a sneer. “She wants to know if we're magic!” He keeps chuckling before slamming his fist down on the casket, jolting Dipper and Mabel. “We're CURSED!”

“CURSED!”, the wax figures repeat.

“Cursed to come to life whenever the moon is waxing.”, Wax Sherlock explains, walking near the fireplace.“Your uncle bought us many years ago at a garage sale.” 

“A haunted garage sale, son!”, Wax Coolio adds.

“Quite.”, Wax Sherlock agrees before continuing. “And so, the Mystery Shack Wax Collection was born. By day, we would be the playthings of man.”

“But when your uncle went to sleep, we would rule the night.”, Wax Coolio interjects again.

“It was a charmed life for us cursed beings…”, Wax Sherlock speaks, with a tone of reminiscent before turning cold.  “That is, until your uncle closed up shop. We've been waiting ten years to get our revenge on Stan for locking us away. But we got the wrong guy.”

“So you were going to kill Grunkle Stan for real”, Dipper asks, completely shocked by what he’s heard.

“You were right, Dipper.”, Mabel says. “Wax figures are creepy.”

“Enough!”, Wax Sherlock silences them. “Now that you know our secret, you must die.” Wax Sherlock, along with the rest of the wax figures, rolls his eyes to the back of his head. The wax figures growl intimidatingly as they get closer to the Pine Twins.

Mabel looks at her brother, who activates the Omnitrix. Dipper tries to select the right alien as the wax figures get close while Mabel attempts to distract them by throwing items from the small refreshment table. It does little to no effect before she throws a pot of coffee at the face of Wax Genghis Khan, who screams in pain.

“That’s it. We can melt them with hot, melty things”, Mabel realizes.

“Hot, melty things”, Dipper repeats before an idea pops up into his head. “That’s it!” He turns the dial to get his designated alien. In a flash of emerald light, stunning Mabel and the wax statues, Dipper’s body begins to morph: He feels his body developing chlorophyll as his feet become roots, his oxygen molecules shift to methane, easy for ignition. His shoulders develop red flowers.

Dipper becomes a Methonisian: a humanoid, plant-like alien that has an overall green and black colored body, mostly with a red flame-patterned head and root-like feet, seemingly holding black rocks. His eyes are oval-shaped with points at each end with pupils copying the shape but are smaller. Also, his shoulders and head have red petals and his elbows and legs have green frills sticking out. This alien is taller than an average human and has a distinct rotten stench that worsens with heat.

“Swampfire!”, the altered Pine shouts. Mabel looks at her brother in awe, he finds a new transformation that looks very cool but she notices something when she smells him.

“Ugh. Dipper you stink.”, Mabel holds her nose in disgust.

“That’s because my body is emitting methane fumes.”, Swapfire answers.

“Just take a shower when this is over.”, she begs as she grabs two decorative candles.

“The stink would probably go away when I transform back but okay.”, he answers, igniting his fists which causes the wax figures to step back even further. “Any one of you moves and we'll melt you!”

“With some fire and decorative candles!”, Mabel declares.

“Do you really think you could beat us with candles and by becoming a giant flaming weed?”, Wax Sherlock asks, his tone incredulous at the idea of these kids defeating despite them having the advantage.

“I mean….I can make flames outta my hands and she's got candles. So...”, Swampfire shrugs. 

“Yeah, it’s kind off a no-brainer.”, Mabel points out.

“So be it.”, Wax Sherlock answers before shouting. “ATTACK!” The wax figures and the Pine Twins charge, ready for battle.

Wax Lizzie Borden swings her ax at Mabel, but accidentally decapitates Wax Robin Hood. Mabel walks around her, but Wax Shakespeare sneaks up behind her. Mabel cuts off his hands with both candles, and he runs away in cowardice. Wax Shakespeare's hands, however,  move and begin strangling Mabel. She grabs a door and repeatedly smashes it on its fingers.

A couple of wax figures tackle Swampfire to the ground before dogpiling him, but since he has the strength advantage, he’s able to get them off of him through powering out, making the wax figures fly across the room in different directions. After doing that, he avoids being grabbed from behind by Wax Larry King before delivering a fiery chop that decapitates his head. “Interview this, Larry King!”

“My neck! My beautiful neck!”, Wax Larry King cries out, running away.

Wax Groucho growls as he charges towards Swampfire, but the altered Pine is ready as he blasts the wax figure in his stomach with a massive fireball causing both halves to slowly slip off.

“Jokes on you, Groucho!”, Swampfire quips.

“I heard of an empty stomach but this is ridiculous.”, Wax twiddling his fingers a bit as the top half of his body slid off of the lower half. “Hey, why is there nothing in my hand?”

Swampfire turns around to see Wax Genghis Khan charging at him and simply sidesteps him, making the wax figure run into the fireplace.

“Ha, Genghis Khan! You fell harder than the... uh... ”, Swampfire declares before getting confused. “I don't know, uh, Jin Dynasty? Heh. Yeah. Alright. ”

Mabel swings around Wax Coolio's head while getting overwhelmed by wax figures.

“Dipper! Watch out!”, Mabel calls out to her transformed brother. He blasts Wax Richard Nixon out the room before turning around to Wax Sherlock Holmes behind him.

“Alright. Let’s get this taken care of.”, Wax Sherlock says, putting Wax Stan's head on the horn of a rhino on the wall, and grabs a sword hanging on it. He then swings the blade and it slices Swampfire’s off. The wax figure seems pleased before his eyes narrow in annoyance and confusion as the altered Pine grows another arm. Swampfire ignites his fists and starts swinging at Wax Sherlock, who in turn uses the sword defensively while delivering more hits to the alien. This continues until they reach the attic.

"Once your family is out of the way, we’ll rule the night once more!", Wax Sherlock declares, raising his sword planning to slice Swampfire’s head clean off.

I can't deliver a massive fire attack in this area, Swampfire thinks. The best course is….He quickly turns to see the window. There!

"Don’t count on it!", Swampfire retorts, kicking Wax Sherlock down the stairs before opening the window to get outside. He climbs up to the top sign of the Mystery Shack and waits near the edge to hear Wax Sherlock Holmes coming up to finish him off.

"You think you can outwit me, freak?!", Wax Sherlock asks in aggravation as the figure climbs up. "I’m Sherlock Bloody Holmes!" He looks ready to slice up the alien boy until he reaches the top sign. But he realizes his mistake as Swampfire holds both hands out to deliver an attack.

“Burn.”, Swampfire declares before blasting a stream of flames that seems to have melted the wax figure. He moves forward to the spot where Wax Sherlock was standing. He looks from his left and his right, hoping to find any evidence that he melted the wax figure. Honestly, where did he-

Out of nowhere, Wax Sherlock appears between the top and bottom sign to deliver a hard elbow strike to Swampfire’s face. This causes him to tumble on the other side of the roof, rolling on the surface and grabbing onto the edge of it to prevent himself from falling down. He looks down at the ground below before gulping, he knows that these aliens are tough but he still doesn't feel comfortable at the aspect of falling. 

The sudden sound of scraping alerts the altered Pine to see Wax Sherlock Holmes, despite having one arm that’s mostly melted off, brandishing the sword with a hateful scowl on his face. He stops on top of the chimney and for additional cruelty, steps on Swampfire’s hands, eliciting a grunt of pain from him.

“Any last requests”, Wax Sherlock asks as he holds the sword, ready to finish the job of killing this freak.

Swampfire turns his head slightly to see the sky brightening up a bit, making him have a small grin of victory. “You got any sunscreen?”

“Sunscree-?”, Wax Sherlock looks confused before he realizes his hand is melting. “What?!” He gasps in horror at the sight of the warm, summer sun rising up.

“No.”, Wax Sherlock says placidly, despite his wax body melting in the heat.

“Yeah, it really wasn’t very sharp of you to let me lead you out here.”, Swampfire replies, confidently.

“Outsmarted by a child in short pants! No!”, Wax Sherlock exclaims in frustration and agony as the sun reaches even higher. “Fiddlesticks! Humbugs! Tiiter, total kerfuffle. Butter hallabaloo.” He continues cursing until he becomes a puddle with only his head holding some shape. Swampfire climbs up on the roof before sighing in relief. A certain ring from the Omnitrix emblem on his indicates that he’s going to turn back and in a flash of red light, Dipper becomes normal again.

“Case closed.”, Dipper declares in satisfaction, wiping the dust from his hands before he sneezes.

“You sneeze like a kitten!”, Wax Sherlock laughs, mockingly as his remains slip off the roof. “Those policemen were right, you're adorable! Adorable!” He declares his final word before falling down at the ground below in a splat.

“Ew.”, Dipper mutters in disgust.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Just as the battle on the roof is finished, so is Mabel’s in the parlor as she scoops all the remaining pieces of the wax figures with one more, Wax William Shakespeare’s living head.

“Though our group be left in twain, the men of wax shall rise again!”, Wax William declares though it reaches deaf ears as Mabel picks him up.

“Y’know any limericks?”, she asks curiously.

“Uh... there once was a dude from Kentucky…”, the wax figure attempts, weakly.

“Nope!”, Mabel concludes throwing his head into the fire before noticing her brother entering the parlor. “Dipper! You're okay! You solved the mystery after all.”

“I couldn't have done it without my sidekick.”, he says as he pulls up a chair and takes Wax Stan's head off the wall. 

“No offense Dipper, but you're the sidekick.” Mabel informs him. 

“What? Says who? Have people been saying that? Have you heard that?”, Dipper asks nervously before coming down.

“Eesh, which one of you broke wind-”, Stan comes into the parlor before screaming incredulously. “Hot Belgian Waffles!! What happened to my parlor?!” He sees the room cluttered with various wax parts on the floor.

“Your wax figures turned out to be evil, so we fought them to the death!”, Mabel answers, jovially.

“I decapitated Larry King.”, Dipper adds.

Stan stares at them for a minute before laughing at their ridiculous claim. “Ha ha! You kids and your imaginations!”

“On the bright side, though, look what we found.”, Dipper shows his grunkle’s wax replica’s head.

“My head! Ha ha! I missed this guy!”, Grunkle Stan beams happily. “You done good, kids! Alright, line up for some affectionate noogie-ing.” Dipper and Mabel try to protest but he just noogies them, all of them sharing a big laugh before a police car drives near the broken parlor window, Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland on the inside relaxing.

“Solved the case yet, boy?”, Sheriff Blubs asks, condescendingly. “ I'm so confident you're gonna say no, that I'm gonna take a long, slow sip from my cup of coffee.” He holds up his coffee and starts drinking really slowly to mock the Omnitrix-user.

“Actually, the answer is yes.”, Dipper answers, casually as he holds Wax Stan’s head. This causes Sheriff Blubs to choke on his coffee before spitting it in Durlands face, which leads to him screaming in pain and spitting the coffee back at Blubs’ face, making him scream in pain . This continues on until the drive away in pain from the scalding coffee before ending up crashing.

The Pines laugh at the spectacle, enjoying the catharsis of solving the case. “They got scalded.”, Stan quibs, chuckling.

“So, did you get rid of all the wax figures?” Dipper asks.

“I am ninety-nine percent sure that I did!”, Mabel answers with a confident grin.

“Good enough for me!”, Dipper concludes.

Little does she know, Mabel missed one. A headless Wax Larry King chuckles before chasing off after a rat that steals his ear.

[saventhhaven]

Fright Night - Part 1

Pairing: none

Tags: Halloween, mystery

Word Count: 1,663

A/N: I realize the tags are very vague, but I’m trying hard not to spoil anything xD

(Gif not mine)

You dug your hand into the bowl of popcorn again, stuffing the buttery goodness in your mouth with an obnoxious crunch as you binged your favorite show. After spending all day rushing around the house taking care of odds and ends, you were ready to fully enjoy the glorious fact that you didn't have to do a damn thing for the rest of the night. Actually, you didn't have a single thing to do over the next couple of days - you had made sure of that. Work had finally approved your request off, so you had the next week to yourself. You smiled giddily. You knew your wallet was going to be hurting when you got the paycheck, but still, a week off was a feeling unlike any other. It was a feeling of knowing that you could stay up as unreasonably late as you wanted without having to drag your ass out of bed the next morning. And that was exactly what you planned to do.

The eerie glow of your television was the only source of light in the living room - just how you liked it on nights like these. Currently, you were buried under a pile of blankets, and a pint of ice cream was within your reach. Oh yeah. This was the life. Just as your favorite episode started up, something triggered the motion-sensor light in your back yard, causing bright light to stream through the nearest window. You frowned, leaning over the arm of the couch to peer outside. Moving across the grass like a tumbleweed was your culprit - a small branch with leaves that rattled as a result of the strong breeze. You snorted. Talk about a classic case of "just the wind." After a few minutes passed, the light went on again, and this time, you caught a flash of movement that was gone almost as quickly as it came.

"What the hell?" You placed the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table as you stood, the pile of blankets abandoned, and the tv forgotten. Squinting intently into the yard, you scanned the area for any sign of more movement until the light automatically turned off. That light went up without any problems almost a year ago, and it had worked perfectly up until now. "Friggin' weird," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as you made your way back over to the couch. Maybe it needed a new set of batteries or something. Before you could even sit back down, the light clicked on again, catching the same blur of movement as before. "All right, that's it." You knew exactly what this was. Halloween was just under a week away, and neighbors had been complaining about kids starting to pull their mischief night pranks. If one of those little assholes was doing something in your yard, there was gonna be hell to pay. "Hey!" you shouted, leaving the comfort of your warm home and moving out onto your back porch. Of course, this would happen as soon as you finally got comfortable. You were pissed. "You little twerps better get out of here!" twerps was not a word you usually used, but you figured it was probably socially frowned upon to call minors fuckers. 

When no one came forward at your screeching, you stepped off of the porch, the dewy grass dampening your feet as you stomped into the middle of the yard. "You're trespassing!" you continued, waiting for a response. Nothing. The light turned itself off. You let loose a sigh as you stood in the total darkness, feeling like an idiot. Maybe you were finally losing your mind. Turning back around, the light switched on in response, and your heart almost stopped beating. Standing directly in your path back into the house was something unexplainable and terrifying. A human figure with yellow, almost-green eyes, sharp claws where fingernails should have been, and pointed fangs. You stood there, frozen. This couldn't be happening. There was no way this was real. It had to be some freak in a costume, right? The creature's lips pulled back in an aggressive snarl, showing off its fangs as a guttural growl erupted from its throat. Oh, fuck. You let out a petrified scream as the creature launched itself at you. Running was useless - it was too fast. You had barely taken a step back when the creature tackled you to the ground, still shrieking bloody murder, and everything went dark.

"Hey." Sam looked up from his book as Dean leaned over to look at him through the drivers-side window. "I'm gonna get some beer for later. You want anything from inside?"

"No, I'm good."

"All right, but when you decide you want a snack an hour from now, I don't want to hear it." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. Some things never changed. The boys had spent the past couple of days at Jody's house. It had been a while since they had seen her, and it was her birthday, so it was the perfect excuse to take a few days off and catch up. The Winchesters lived and breathed crazy, but it was the small, normal things like that that made their lives feel just a little less crazy.

A few minutes later, Dean came back out with a six-pack and... a huge bag of candy? "Catch." He tossed the candy through the open car window to his brother, who frowned.

"Dude." Dean climbed into the car, looking over at Sam.

"What? Tomorrow's Halloween, Sam."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to-" The older Winchester ripped open a mini candy bar, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing it with a satisfying crunch.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the Halloween spirit." Sam let out a sigh of displeasure, but he couldn't say he was surprised. His older brother had always loved Halloween, though he never really understood why. After all, their whole life was pretty much a horror movie. "Oh, check this out." Dean handed his phone to Sam, who set aside his book on Egyptian mythology to read the article he had pulled up.

"'Body found?' Is this from today?"

"Uh-huh," Dean answered. "It was on the local news inside. I was thinking we could check it out since we're already in town."

"Really? Why?"

"Why not? We already have everything we'd need in the trunk. Fake badges, emergency suits." Sam shook his head as he gave the phone back to his brother.

"No, Dean, I mean, why? They're calling it an animal attack. Maybe it's not our thing this time." Dean frowned.

"Yeah, okay, an 'animal attack.' Sam, the body was found in the middle of a smalltown neighborhood, and the closest set of woods is like twenty minutes from here. C'mon, let's at least look into it." Sam glanced longingly over at his book. He had been trying to finish it for weeks. And besides, he had just gotten to the chapter on Horus losing his eye in battle, and how he used it to bring Osiris back to life after- "Sam?" He sighed.

"Yeah, all right."

It was mid-afternoon by the time the boys finally got to the morgue. They had stopped at the sheriff's office beforehand to gather information, and went through the whole, "why is the FBI interested in an animal attack?" spiel. But after that, the sheriff was more than happy to comply with the standard routine questions. As it turned out, the body had been found by a woman in her own back yard.

"Right through here, agents." The pathologist led Sam and Dean into the morgue, where she gestured to the body, covered by a white sheet on an examination table in the middle of the room. "I'll be right outside if you need anything." Sam shot the woman a charming smile.

"Thanks." As soon as she left the room, though, his smile faded away, and he was all business. "All right." He pulled on a pair of rubber gloves as he moved over to the table. "Let's see what we've got here." Sam pulled the sheet away, and the two boys stepped closer to examine the young girl's body. At the sight of her wounds, Dean sucked in a lungful of air through his teeth. The Winchesters had seen their share of horrifying things over the years, but this was bad.

"God," Dean breathed. "Whatever did this ripped her to shreds. Sure as hell looks like our kind of thing. I'd say it's pretty safe to put our money on a werewolf." Sam gingerly moved small ribbons of torn flesh out of the way and frowned.

"Last I checked, werewolves don't leave the heart intact."

"What?" Dean went over to his brother's side of the table in disbelief. "Okay, what the hell?" The younger Winchester shook his head.

"I don't know." Mimicking a clawing motion, Dean's hand hovered over the girl's body. He sighed in exasperation and pulled off the rubber gloves with a snap.

"Those are definitely werewolf claws," he determined. "The wounds match up right." Sam moved the sheet back over the girl again as he nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe."

"Nuh-uh," Dean argued. "There's no 'maybe' about it." He pointed back at the table to emphasize his point. "I know what a werewolf victim looks like, Sam, and that's it. Sure, it's a lot worse than usual, but that's friggin' textbook!" Holding his hands up in a placating manner, Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother's volume level hadn't attracted any unwanted attention.

"Look, I'm not saying you're wrong, but the heart's still there. Taking the heart is trademark werewolf, Dean, what else do you want me to say?" Dean let out a huff of air as he paced, lost in thought. Finally, he stopped, nodding to himself as the answer popped into his head.

"We gotta talk to the lady who found the body."

Taglist:

@cole-winchester​ @alexwinchester23​ @1-am-made-of-stardust​ @thorukindig​ @fiftyshadesoffandom6783​ @hobby27​ @indigyptian @youshrimpdickfucknugget​

If your username has a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you. If you don’t know how to fix it, send me a message, and I’ll do what I can to help! :)

[huntertales]

Part Three: A Light At The End Of The Tunnel. (The Great Escapist S08E21)

Episode Summary: When Sam, Dean and the reader receive a distressing video message from Kevin Tran, they set about trying to uncover the third trial. The boys and the reader make a discovery that sends them to a casino in Colorado, to find a mysterious recluse who may be able to fill in the holes in Kevin’s research. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,923.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

It took you a second to figure out what was going on; you were staring down the barrel of a loaded rifle, that was being held by who you could only guess was the angel you had been searching for. Part of you was taken back to see who was standing on the other side of the weapon with his finger on the trigger. Angels were arrogant creatures who thought they were high and mighty, involved themselves in your business when they thought it would benefit them. And always loved to put on a show with their abilities to prove how powerful they were compared to a couple of measly humans. Metatron didn’t fit the bill. Hell, he took you off guard for how you found him. Hiding away in a hotel surrounded by what you could only guess was thousands of books as his only company and a rifle and his weapon of choice against you.

While you knew the person holding the weapon still pointed at yourself and the boys, the angel didn’t seem to recognize the three faces you guessed every one of his brothers and sisters knew by now. Not only because of the things you had done over the years and the few you killed, you had a bad reputation among them that didn’t leave a warm greeting. Dean found the person he was staring at not who he was expecting, in how all of this was going down. You furrowed your brow slightly as you continued to stare at the face of who Metatron had picked as his vessel. Something about him seemed oddly familiar. But you couldn’t put you finger on why. 

“Metatron? This is Metatron?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask. “This is Metatron?”

“Sit down.” You quickly looked over your shoulder when you heard Metatron’s voice from behind you, suddenly standing with the rifle to your back. Knowing you weren’t in the position to try and talk your way out of this one, you slowly backed yourself up until you felt the back of your legs hit what felt to be a chair. You eased yourself down while the boys chose a spot on a table cluttered with even more books. “Who sent you?”

You weren’t exactly caught what the angel had said, you winced slightly when you noticed the ringing in your ears had come back. Even louder than before. You clutched part of your head to try and cope with the pain. “We came on our own. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You had to shout in order to just hear yourself talking that sounded like a muffled noise to you. “These are the Winchesters.”

“I’m Dean.” The oldest Winchester introduced himself first and then his brother to save you the trouble. “And this is Sam.” 

“You work for Michael?” Metatron asked all of you. You furrowed your brow even tighter as you struggled to figure out what exactly he was trying to say, attempting to read his lips as you saw him shift the gun toward your direction. “Or Lucifer?”

“What, you really haven’t heard of us?” You shouted your own question back at him, smiling to yourself. “What kind of angel are you? All of your kind hate me. And not to mention—these are the freaking Winchesters.”

“Michael and Lucifer—those dudes are in the deep fryer.” Dean answered the angel.

“Yeah. We put them there ourselves.” You added on, still shouting to hear yourself talk over the ringing in your ears that felt like it was growing louder with each passing moment. 

“What about Gabriel and Raphael?” Metraon asked about more of his fellow brothers. 

“Dead.” You responded back. 

“You really don’t know all of this?” Sam asked the angel, finding it all rather strange. 

Metatron shook his head, “I’ve been very careful.” 

“Hey, can you—can you turn that down?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask for a favor from the angel, hoping he might be able to do something about the ringing in your ears you couldn’t handle anymore. 

“Turn what dow—oh.” Metatron wondered for a second what exactly what you were talking about, until he figured out exactly why you were acting so strange. He lowered the rifle so it was next to his side. “You’re resonating.”

“Resonating?” Dean repeated the word he heard the angel speak, not liking the sound of it. “What do you mean, resonating?”

“You've undertaken the trials. You're trying to pull one of the great levers, aren't you?” Metatron asked you, ignoring the older Winchester’s concern. He sounded curious and even the slightest bit intrigued. You guessed for someone of your nature. And the condition you were in might have raised a brow here and there. You nodded your head. “You're pretty far along, too. You get that far along, you start resonating with the Word. Or with its source on the material plane. With me.”

“You said you were being careful.” Sam spoke up, going back to what the angel had mentioned earlier. “Careful how?”

“I’m not one of them. I’m not an archangel. I’m really more run-of-the-mill. I worked in the secretarial pool before God chose me to take down the word. Anyway, he seemed very worried about his work, what would happen to it when he left, so he had me write down instructions.  Then he was gone.” Metatron told you about how he landed himself being God’s personal writer. 

He grabbed a chair and took a seat across from the three of you. You shifted slightly in your seat when you noticed he nonchalantly wheeled around the rifle without much thought, almost forgetting that it was fully loaded. “After that, the archangels took over. They cried, and they wailed. They wanted their father back. I mean, we all did. But then they started to scheme. The archangels decided if they couldn’t have Dad, they’d take over the universe themselves. But they couldn’t do anything that big without the word of God. So I began to realize that maybe they would realize...they needed me.”

“So, you got a ruffle in your feathers and you just decide to disappear, go stick your head in the sand forever?” Dean asked the angel, wanting to make sure what he just heard was correct. Metatron nodded his head ever so slowly. “You have no idea what’s been going on out there?”

“Nope.” Metatron said, shaking his head. And looking rather happy with his ignorance about the world around him. Something about the expression on his face rubbed you the wrong way. It started to make you angry about his blissful ignorance. “That’s the whole point.” 

“So you have been held up here or in a wigwam, or before that, in some cave, listening to stories, reading books?” Dean asked the angel. 

“And it was something to watch. What you brought to His earth—all the mayhem, the murder, just the raw, wild invention of God’s naked apes—it was mind-blowing. But really, really...it was your storytelling. That is the true flower of free will, at least as you’ve mastered it so far.” The angel got back up to his feet while he discussed his only true love of what humanity created. As  if you couldn’t tell from the books surrounding the place. “When you create stories, you become Gods of tiny, intricate dimensions unto themselves. So many worlds. I have read as much as it’s possible for an angel to read, and I haven’t caught up.”

"You know what?" You waited a second before speaking up after hearing what Metatron had to say. He was your final hope for figuring out the last trial and shutting the gates of hell. But it turned out he was like the rest of his siblings. You were tired of having people more powerful than you stand back and get their own way. You were putting your foot down. Even if it meant you had to say a few things you didn’t want to. "Pull the trigger."

“What?” Metatron was confused at the words that just came out of your mouth. 

“Pull the freaking trigger…” You slowly pushed yourself up to your feet and began walking over to him, ignoring the boys’ attempt at trying to get you to sit back down before you got yourself hurt. You doubt this angel had it in him to hurt you and your unborn child. He wouldn’t. Because he didn’t have the guts to get his hands dirty. “You cowardly piece of garbage.” 

“Hey—” Dean tried his hardest to sit back down before you could do something stupid, but there was no way he was going to get you to back off. 

“All the time you’ve been hiding here, how much suffering have you read over? These books that you love so much—it’s not all just fiction. Where do you think people come up with these ideas? Why do you think we write in the first place? So we can hide from our suffering. Make worlds better than our own. Humanity’s been suffering for so long. How much of it has been at the hands of your kind?!” You knew you were letting your emotions get the best of you, but you didn’t care. You roughly grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it at your chest. You smirked to yourself at the look on his face at the move he wasn’t expecting from you. “I bet you probably look at me like I’m a speck on humanity. A monster created by Lucifer. I agree with you. But you know what I see when I look at you? A coward.”

You let the insult sink deep into his mind, wanting to show him how you viewed him. How much damage he was inflicting on the creatures he only loved for one thing. “You have so much power to do good...and yet you choose to sit here in your safe little world. Reading fictional stories of people that aren’t real when there are billions of stories out there! Stories rich with things writers could only dream about capturing into words. And I bet you would love it. But that would mean sticking your head out and having to face the mess your siblings made.” You mocked him for the choices he made, wanting to show him just the slightest amount of frustration you were feeling at the moment. “At least I’m doing something to make sure my child has a better life than mine. I’m sure you’re familiar with my story. But you know what story I want you to hear? It’s about a kid named Kevin Tran.” 

“He was a good, straight-A kid, and then he got sucked into all of this angel crap and became a prophet of the word of God—your prophet.” Dean continued on with the story about the kid who was thrown into this lifestyle without a choice. Who lost his mother and his own life, despite all of your attempts to make sure his was safe. While the angel in front of you did nothing but kick up his feet up with a book and continued to ignore the world around him. “And you should have been looking out for him, but no! Instead, you’re here, holed up, reading books.”

“He’s dead now because of you.” You said. You let the news sink in, watching as his face slowly began to fall at hearing the life of a prophet translating his work caused his own life. It was all of your faults for the choices you made, Metatron’s as well. While he sat on his ass reading his books and pretending the real world didn’t exist, the life of a was taken.  “Did any of your books teach you about guilt? About the feeling of someone’s blood on your own hands?”

Metatron was your last hope at trying to figure out the third trial and closing the gates of hell. You thought making him realize the damage he was inflicting and how much good he could give to the world might change his mind. All you wanted was the third trial. But he offered you so much more. He offered you a chance at getting back the kid who helped you in the first place, Kevin. It seemed his story never ended, someone just wanted to make an unexpected appearance. You knew Crowley was behind this all along, but you were stupid to think he would have killed his favorite prophet. The details didn't matter to you. All you cared about was the kid sitting in the chair you had been in just a few minutes ago. 

You felt a sigh of relief finally escape from you at the sight of Kevin back in your sight. Metatron used some of his angelic powers to get the kid out from Crowley's grasp before he could really end up dead. He was in worse shape from the last time you saw him, but the bruises on his body slowly faded away when the angel placed a hand on the kid's chest and healed him from the inside out. 

“Is that it?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, wondering if things were going to finally be okay for once. “Is he good?”

“Give him a minute.” Metatron said. 

You and Sam decided to keep an eye out for any sort of progress on Kevin and greet him when he finally came back around. Metatron stepped away and headed to the kitchen area, Dean followed behind a few seconds after, having a few questions of his own. He lingered in the doorway, watching as the angel grabbed himself a cup. 

“How did you get past Crowley’s angel warding?” Dean curiously asked. 

“I’m the scribe of God.” Metatron answered with a shrug. “I erased it.” 

“But you saw, right? I mean you’re caught up on everything that’s been going on, all the crap that your brethren’s been doing to humanity all of this time?” The older Winchester wondered, hoping all the gaps and messes made over the years were 

“I saved the boy, didn’t I?” Metatron answered the hunter’s question with another.

“But are you in? With us, I mean.” Dean asked the angel straight out. Angels didn’t do things for them out of the kindness of their own cold stone hearts. It always came with a price. However it seemed on the surface Metatron was different from his siblings. He didn’t want anything from them and he didn’t need help getting something. He just wanted an answer to his question. 

“Y/N really intends on closing the doors of hell?” Metatron wondered for himself. 

“It’s not my first choice, but things didn’t work out the way I wanted. She feels like it’s her...duty. After everything she was put through by them, she wants to make sure no more evil comes out of that place.” Dean said. He turned his head and spotted you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest, staring intently at the prophet and waiting for any kind of sign he was going to wake up. His eyes slowly drifted to the bump that stuck out like a sore thumb. The reason why you were doing this in the first place. “Seems like the thing to do, don’t it?”

“Character redemption arc. Do good in order to wash away the evil created. It’s her choice, taking on this journey. Especially in the condition she’s in. And that’s what this has all been about—the choices your kind makes.” Metatron said. Dean turned his head to look back at the angel to head what he was saying. “But you're gonna have to weigh that choice. Ask yourself, 'What is it going to take to do this,' and 'What will the world be like after it's done?'" 

Dean wondered for a second what the angel might have meant by those words, before he could ask any questions to dig further, his attention was pulled away by the sound of Sam’s voice coming from the other room. He headed over to see what the fuss was about. A smile began to creep at the ends of his lips at the sight of Kevin slowly coming back around to consciousness. For a while Dean thought the kid was long gone. He felt a sense of relief come over him at the sight of him back in his sight, safe and okay. 

“Kevin? Hey.” Dean placed a hand on the chair and leaned down just enough to get a better view on the kid, watching as he slowly began to come back around, smiling at him. The older man let out a chuckle. “We thought we lost you, kiddo.” 

“I’m good.” Kevin reassured all of you. He pulled something out from his button up, an object that had been a pain in the ass for months now. You felt your lips stretch wider at the sight of the demon tablet. “Second half of the tablet, and I got it. Third trial. I didn’t tell Crowley.”

“So what is it?” You asked, eager to hear the very last step you had to do.

“To cure a demon.” 

You looked over to see Metatron had given you the final step in closing the gates of hell. He stood on the other side of the room, his attention on the prophet he saved from the clutches of Crowley. “Yeah.” Kevin agreed. He looked over at the stranger and gave him a confused look, wondering for a second what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”

+ + +

For the first time in forever, you felt like you were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You had been spending these last few months struggling with the idea that all of this was happening. But it was. And the truth was approaching you faster than you could process. You were on your final step to closing the gates of hell. And you were going to have a real family in just a little over three months. A little baby who wasn't ever going to know about the monsters that haunted you all of your entire life. Hell, there was going to be future generations of children and their families who weren't going to fall into the same routine like the Winchester’s. All of this wasn't a fantasy you told yourself. It was actually happening. 

Before you came on the trip you were feeling run down and not like yourself, there was no way of denying that from how the trials were taking a toll on your body. You didn't exactly picture this was how your pregnancy was going to go. However now that you knew what the third trial was, you could figure it out and get it done. After that, you could finally let out a breather and get back to your life. Well, it was a hopeful thought. You still remembered the warnings Cas had given you about how the trials were taking a toll on your body, there was a part of you that knew it was all going to be okay. Like you said to yourself earlier when you were remembering all those things, you had to suffer before you could get better. You needed to get...clean. 

“Cure a demon? Okay, ignoring the fact that I have no idea what that means, if we do this, does that mean you’ll get better, right?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your concentration and brought your gaze up forward. He was happy about the lead all of you had, but there was still an angle of uncertainty about what all of you were walking into. “I mean, you’ll stop trying to cough up a lung and bumping into furniture?”

“I feel better, if I’m being honest, just having a direction to move in.” You told the boys.

“Well, good,” Dean felt a little bit of relief at hearing your second wind coming through for the things you were about to be up against. “‘cause where we’re headed doesn’t sound like a picnic.”  

“I could say that about something else.” You joked to yourself. You placed a hand on your bump and smiled softly. "I don't care what I have to do. We're heading somewhere. The end.” 

Curing a demon felt like something odd to say for a hunter. All though you knew a way to make one of those black eyed monsters was to send them to hell and twist their soul until it was dark as night, you knew there were other ways to do so. You softly bit the inside of your cheek and wondered to yourself about what this meant. You knew your father was a human who was turned into a demon...that was somehow turned into a human again. You thought back to what Abbadon had said to you when you first met her. 

“Let’s just say I gave him a punishment that fit the crime. Your daddy wasn’t a very nice man.” You were still trying to figure out what that meant. He was a Men of Letters just like the boys’ grandfather, working on some big special project nobody knew about. Whatever it was, hell didn’t like it. And they wanted to make him one of them. Part of you wondered if he was the key to stopping all of this. 

You were torn out from your thoughts when you felt the Impala suddenly coming to a  screeching stop when Dean slammed his foot on the break. You quickly placed a hand on the front seat and steadied yourself while Dean attempted to swerve away from the person lying in the middle of the road. When the car was stopped and in park, you looked forward to see it was a familiar face you hadn't seen in weeks. You felt a rush of panic come over you as you got out of the car as fast as you could at the sight of a familiar face, bloody and beaten from what you could tell from the Impala’s headlights in the darkness of the night. 

“Cas?!” You called out the angel’s name 

You hadn’t seen him in weeks after he took the angel tablet and ran for the hills. Not a single call or peep had come out from him. You were worried about him, and it seemed the worst had happened to him. You studied his bloody and battered face from the pavement as you stood next to the backseat door, keeping a cautious distance from the angel. He had been messed with by other angels, and while he was supposedly free, it wasn’t the first time Cas had ran off and did things for his own agenda and not caring about his friends. But it seemed you had your old Cas back. 

“A little help here?”

You and the boys shared an uneasy look about what was happening all of a sudden. You shrugged your shoulders, staying back while the boys went over to help the angel back up to his feet. You were overjoyed to see Cas again. But there was another part of you that was angry. Betrayed at how he vanished into thin air. You had so much going on right now. You didn’t have time to deal with whatever crap he landed himself in. You were so close to getting what you wanted, there was nothing standing in your way of closing the gates of hell and shutting away the very thing that has haunted you. 

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @albot-e // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink  // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner  // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha //   @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink //  @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans //  @icantfindacreativeurl //  @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings

Message me if you would like to be added!

[ayearofpike]

Thirst No. 3: The Eternal Dawn

Simon Pulse, 2010 478 pages, 26 chapters + epilogue ISBN 978-1-4424-1317-7 LOC: MLCS 2012/41874 (P) OCLC: 651759027 Released October 5, 2010 (per B&N)

When we last saw Sita, she was brain-traveling back in time to kill the first vampire before he was ever born, thus ending the line of eternal bloodsuckers forever. Little did we know that this was simply her way of writing herself out of Seymour’s life. She is very much still immortal. But Sita is learning that there is more to her family, both found and genetic, linked to an even older power that is bound to destroy her. That is, if the multinational trillionaire corporation that happened into some kind of crazy mind control doesn’t do it first.

Check out that fake boast on the cover: “long-awaited new book.” Um ... no? You ended the series, asshole, we weren’t long-awaiting SHIT. But we all know that the new expectations of the genre are that everything is a series, and so the publisher no doubt did more business by linking these books together even though there’d been no previous expectation for another Sita book before the reprinted bind-ups showed us Pike was at it again.

And there’s a lot going on in here too. The Eternal Dawn opens a door to a whole new world of vampire fighting with all the things it introduces. Sita, long a loner, now has a whole cadre of friends and assistants and hangers-on that connect her new world to the old world, and even to the ancient people that she’s just starting to learn about. Again, I get it: teens want to read about popular kids, or at least popular among a small select group. They don’t want a total loner, which actually has become troublesome in itself as school shootings become more regular and publicized and railed against. And also, we have a precedent of Team Vampire from those other popular sparkly vampire books that came out just before this. 

But this doesn’t really work for me. Sita has always been that strong solo artist who didn’t want to rope people into her fold, as much for their own safety as because they couldn’t do stuff as good as her. And yet by the end of this book there’s like eight people all living together. Yes, circumstances change, we’ll get to that, but for someone who read the original Sita books in 1995 and was expecting a story along the same lines, this part feels like a betrayal of her character.

Ugh, I’m already tired of writing about this book and this is only the introduction. Let’s see how fast I can power through the summary.

So for some reason Sita has relocated to Truman Village, Missouri. Well, we learn the reason pretty quickly: Teri Raine, a freshman runner at Truman College who has no idea that her ancestor is still alive and watching out for her. In fact, the first thing Sita does is straight murder a dude who’s raped other girls and now has his sights on Teri. But not just by draining him of blood, which she no longer needs after Kalika: she drinks enough to weaken his heartbeat and then crashes his car into a lake, where he drowns in terror. Holy fuck, Sita, you got even darker.

Back in town, she introduces herself to Teri as a budding writer who wants to hire her as a research assistant. She sets up a meeting with Teri at the club where her boyfriend is playing later that night. Then she goes home, where she feels suspiciously watched, and it turns out there’s a couple driving up to ask what she knows about IIC. This, it seems, is a huge multinational corporation with a penchant for privacy that has an extensive file on one Alisa Perne. Which ... come on, dude, it’s been twenty years, why are you still using the same alias? But these two are curious and suspicious, not just of Sita but also the company, where the woman happens to work even though she’s not totally sure what she actually does. But she does know that her boyfriend was looking into it, just before he mysteriously disappeared.

So Sita says she’ll stay in touch and then goes to her meeting, where she immediately gets all of the boners for Teri’s boyfriend. He’s super talented and totally hot and gives off this aura of worldliness and experience, all of which is like catnip to our eternal vampire. She hasn’t been intimate or even interested since Ray, or I guess Arturo technically. So all of this stuff that happened before was real, but up to this point Sita hasn’t really explained how it got written down or why she’s doing it herself now instead of using a muse like Seymour. She is, in fact, a published writer, and the story she shows her new ... kids? is Pike’s token acknowledgement of the vampire/werewolf dichotomy that you can’t ignore if you’re writing a vampire book in 2010. It’s enough to get Teri to agree that she’ll work with Sita, and they all shake hands and part ways.

But back at Sita’s house, shit is exploding. Like, she pulls up to the garage and bullets start hitting everything. She finds a weapon of her own and dashes out into the woods, where she encounters an unusually strong and skilled man with a Gatling gun. She disables him, but before she can learn who he is and why he’s after her he whispers something in ancient Egyptian and then is consumed by terrible fire. Is this related to the whole IIC mystery?

Who knows? First we gotta drool over Teri’s boyfriend in the pool. Sita wants to help him get this bread (or whatever the kids are saying) with his musical talent, but he isn’t ready for the spotlight. They talk a little more about Sita’s writing and the different pen names she employs, and now the boyfriend is starting to get some feelings that Sita is more than who she claims. Which, why wouldn’t he, she’s not exactly being subtle or cautious in throwing all her wealth at these random kids.

There’s a quick side trip to Fairfield, Iowa, to track down and extract information from the contract killer IIC hired to take out the employee’s boyfriend, and here I had to pause and do some Google Maps. According to the book, Sita flies to Cedar Rapids and then drives 90 minutes to Fairfield, but Truman College is in northeast Missouri. Does this make sense at all? No! There’s no such thing as “Truman Village” or “Truman College,” but there is a Truman State University in Kirksville ... which is already a 90-minute drive from Fairfield. In fact, to fly to Cedar Rapids from Kirksville, Sita would have to connect through St. Louis AND Chicago. How fuckin’ long does this impatient immortal want to travel? Does she not own a globe? There is a public municipal airport in Fairfield; it would have been more believable if Sita had literally flown herself. And guess what? I caught this easily avoidable flub because we’ve seen the hour-and-a-half drive from Cedar Rapids before. Not counting on someone with a master’s in English analyzing your shit, are you, Kev? Or, like ... a map?

But anyway, the killer gives up his next contract, which is a young Indian girl living in San Antonio. Sita flies there and meets the girl, who has been hideously scarred by having acid thrown in her face upon backing out of an arranged marriage. She copes with the pain and partial loss of eyesight by praying to Krishna, which resonates with Sita, obviously. The girl has contract work with IIC, basically answering weekly questions over the phone with yes or no, so it’s unclear to Sita why she’d be a target. But she arranges for the girl to be protected and then takes off for LA, where IIC is headquartered.

Once there, Sita waltzes right into the joint and asks to speak to the CEO. While she’s waiting, a creepy little girl in the waiting room smashes a vase, and Sita helps clean it up. But then she goes into the office, where she immediately feels oppressively observed, and also kind of intimidated that the boss isn’t scared. She (the boss) makes it clear that IIC did not send the fire killer, and Sita was pretty sure already, since the dude in Iowa wasn’t in the same league. She does offer to help Sita protect herself from this mysterious group if she joins up with IIC. But we already know Sita isn’t a joiner, unless it’s a group she can form herself with some random college kids who get her horny.

Instead, she goes to find the couple who tracked her down, but the dude is obviously dead. Well, not obviously, but someone with Sita’s senses can smell the amount of blood that’s been washed down the bathtub. She tracks down the woman and gets her the hell out of town, all the way to ... Barstow? An hour and a half? Seriously? Like, I get it that to someone from the city Barstow probably feels like a middle-of-nowhere armpit (and it is kind of an armpit). But haven’t we already learned that this company can reach people anywhere?

But then Sita leaves and waits to follow the boss home ... only she doesn’t go home for like two days. And when she does, she leaves everything unlocked. There’s another encounter with another creepy little girl, but then the boss is just sitting on the couch watching TV, easy pickings if Sita just wanted to take her out. Only she can’t. In fact, she suddenly finds herself unable to move, act, or even think on her own. The boss somehow manages to compel Sita to stick her gun in her mouth and pull the trigger. But at the last second, Sita thinks of Krishna and ends up shooting the TV. So whatever IIC is, it’s got power that isn’t easily resisted.

Sita ends up taking everybody back to her house in Missouri: the IIC employee, the scarred girl and her uncle, and of course Teri and her boyfriend. Easy pickings, right? Especially now that Teri is running in the NCAA championships, and the strongest performers will be considered for the Olympic team. So Sita, true to her pattern of non-involvement and letting things play out their own way

Just kidding. She totally meddles and gives Teri some blood to make her feel stronger and run faster, but not enough to actually turn her into a vampire. So she wins the championship, and now everybody is going to London for the Olympics.

But Sita’s not done making Club Vampire yet. She has to track down Seymour. Wait a second, didn’t he die? No! It turns out that he got the right medication to treat his AIDS in time, and now is a successful writer living in New York City. However, he’s never shown anybody the weird vampire series he wrote in high school and keeps locked in a desk drawer, so he’s freaked out that Sita knows so much about it. But he does pretty quickly believe her and tag along with the group.

So they go to London (yes, the entire fuckin’ squad) and Sita gives Teri more blood. The boyfriend knows that Sita’s doing something, and he’s highly against it and a little pissed, because Teri would never take a performance-enhancing drug but that’s essentially what this is. Sita gives her more blood, and Teri yells out the name of the original vampire in her sleep, which ... how would she possibly know that? But she turns it on right at the end of the race, winning the gold medal and earning an invitation to party with the president of the United States at his hotel.

And then Sita hears some heartbeats. Four of them, all strong and powerful like the fire killer’s. She knows she’s the target, and figures she’ll be safer if she goes to the president’s party and hides out behind the secret service detail. But the four assassins show up anyway, and Sita ends up going full Matrix, blowing away two at close range and then leaping the height of the ballroom to take out a third. The fourth manages to get away, and Sita has to hypnotize the agents into letting her go after her. The car chase takes Sita to a ferry dock, where she misses the boat and has to swim after it (with the help of some friendly dolphins). She sneaks up on the fourth killer and incapacitates her, then they get off the ferry and drive the killer’s car back across the English Channel.

Let me repeat that. Sita drives a car. Through the Chunnel. Back to England.

(Technically, you can take a car, but it’s like a train-ferry. You don’t actually DRIVE.)

She checks them into a cheap hotel room and sets about trying to extract information from this killer. Yes, they have a connection to the ancient Egyptian civilization that Sita saw before, but they’re not the same evil fourth-dimensional lizard aliens we’ve come to know and love. Their people, the Telar, go back much farther and older than even them. They’ve taken responsibility for the planet and the things living on it, but right now humanity has gotten too large and too hubristic, so the Telar wants to pare it down. They do know about vampires, because one of their number ended up marrying (guess who) Original Vampire like a thousand years ago. So they know about Sita, and have maybe due to blood purity fanaticism have been led to believe she’s even more dangerous than she actually is, which is why they’re trying to wipe her out.

It’s been a long-ass day, so both Sita and her assailant fall asleep. But Sita dreams of demons and evil, and wakes up once more out of control and ends up drinking all the blood of this poor immortal, in the most horrific way. It’s mostly left to our imagination, but when she comes to (thanks to the intervention of Seymour and the young Indian girl) she mentions the “mass of torn flesh” (292) on the bed and feels ill. And lucky for everyone! Teri and her boyfriend have followed Seymour to this random, how-the-shit-did-they-find-it hotel somewhere a solid two-hour drive from London, and they’re totally disgusted by what they see and the boyfriend tells Sita to kindly fuck off and never come back. 

What now? Sita can’t think of anything else but to find her prophet friend, the one who had Miracle Baby way back in the fourth book. The kid is I guess 17 now, and so engrossed in a video game that he won’t even talk to Sita. They’re living somewhere in the Greek islands now, and they drop in uninvited because the lady has taken pains to not tell Sita where she is now. Why is she so pissed? Well, she’s just as annoyed at Sita for trying to take the fate and the responsibility for all of mankind as the boyfriend was. (And actually, the events in this book are pissing me off kind of the same way.) But Sita wants some help and comfort and information, as best they’re willing to give it to her. She’s figured out that picking up the pieces of the glass vase gave IIC enough genetic information on her to be able to control her through their power system, and the prophet friend points out how the Indian girl can block this power. Which we’ve already seen. This is Sita’s protection. 

Still, she’s not willing to put a kid at risk when she follows her lead to Switzerland. Remember the Swiss fax number? Like, put two and two together, Sita. You can remember what someone you met once for ten minutes SMELLS like; you can certainly remember Original Vampire chasing you down from a whole COUNTRY. So she goes there and traces the dude to a hotel, where the owner says he’s been expecting a young blonde woman to ask about this former guest and points her to a secret vault that the guest said she’d be able to open. Inside is a book, in Original Vampire’s handwriting. It discusses how Krishna taught him about this ancient enemy, but stops short of explaining how to overcome it.

She makes a copy and then goes back to return it ... upon which she finds herself locked in a basement cell, the prisoner of the Telar. They’ve got an impressive torture device that taps directly into the pain center of a person’s brain, and they threaten to use it on Sita if she doesn’t tell them all of her dealings with IIC. That’s not a problem: Sita has no love lost for this company that has twice forced her to carry out her basest animal instincts against her will. But she stops short of telling them anything she knows about the ancient prophet or her current day reincarnation, so the torture begins. And again, she finds herself thinking of Krishna, and of Miracle Baby Teen, and finds she can control her brain even as overwhelming pain should be incapacitating her. 

So now the Telar leader doesn’t have control over her anymore, and he’s just about to kill her when everything starts blowing up again. It’s the Abomination, everyone says, which freaks the leader the fuck out. He takes off to warn the overarching bosses and instructs the remaining fighters to not let the Abomination leave this place alive. But they don’t stand a chance: this motherfucker has all of the lasers and straight murders EVERYONE except Sita. Guess who? It’s Teri’s boyfriend! Who it turns out was Original Vampire’s son with the Telar lady he married! No wonder he got Sita so horny. He knew how the Telar felt about vampires, but his dad was one, and he couldn’t just let Dad’s most ancient love die in some basement as a victim of immortal Nazis who also supposedly killed him for betraying the blood purity of their species.

He assault-helicopters them the hell out of town and then they take the whole clan to some abandoned mining town in Colorado, where he owns a safe house. And now Sita has to decide what to do, even though pretty much all the advice she’s gotten in this whole book is “do nothing unless you’re actually targeted.” I guess it’s hard to argue, though, that she’s not a massive target from both sides. She knows that IIC is using its wealth and power to manipulate world governments. She knows that the Telar intend to do the same and fabricate war so that humanity is pared down. And she knows that both powers are at odds. It seems pretty obvious which side is worse, but they’re not even given time to make that choice: the Telar are attacking.

Immortal Boyfriend has prepared for this kind of attack. He sends the mortals down into the mine, and he and Sita find a vantage point to repel the Telar forces. They dispatch pretty much the entire fighting force with a combination of guns, mines, and drones, but not before the Telar manage to release a toxin that makes even these immortals blister and cough. They make for the mine, but Sita hears some Telar nearby and takes one hostage to get the antidote, and he pretty much immediately joins Team Vampire to keep from dying. They go through the mine to Immortal Boyfriend’s other helicopter, but as they’re making their escape the bad guys target them. So it’s time to jump from another helicopter into another lake! Only it’s winter in the Colorado Rockies, and the nearest lake is frozen over, and Teri horrifically breaks her leg when she jumps and is about to die from blood loss.

Yeah. The whole reason Sita started this stupid club in the first place is almost finished, and very much does NOT want to be made over. She states it clearly. But Sita just can’t let her die.

We leap to the epilogue, where Seymour is preparing himself for a funeral. Everyone’s there: the Indian psychic (who has been healed by months of plastic surgery and a little bit of vampire blood), the seer buddy and Miracle Teen, the new Telar recruit, the evacuated IIC employee, Immortal Boyfriend ...

And Teri.

What the fuck? Whose funeral is this?

It turns out that yes, Sita did turn her goddamn descendant into a vampire against her goddamn will, and of course Immortal Boyfriend was even more pissed than before. So much, in fact, that IIC was able to train their system onto him. Sita was able to reason a little bit, but Seymour saw the writing on the wall and couldn’t just let this dear old friend he just met get shot with a frickin’ laser beam. So he charged the dude, and of course he stood no chance, but Sita dove in front of the gun before Immortal Boyfriend could fire it.

So here we are. And Seymour is the last one at the grave, paying his respects. But then Teri comes back. And she whispers into his ear that she is still here, that she is Sita inside Teri’s body.

Obviously now we have to fuckin’ read Thirst No. 4, right? And honestly, as annoyed as I am at how long this vampire story is getting dragged out, and at how much Sita is changing because of market pressures learning from time, this is still a better cliffhanger than “I went to prom with the vampire, somehow wearing a leg cast and one high heel, and thought about what everyone else hadn’t told me yet but I would be finding out in the next three books, so go buy them, everyone.” 

Still. This thing was hard to write, you guys. I will not give up with only five books to go, but seriously? I kind of want to.

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars     Episode 16

            The Hidden Enemy

[Title       Sequence]

  Quote

   Okay

“ A planet under siege,”

  Actually shows a planet under siege

   Good job narrator, you’re on      point

   Aight

   Right

 [ unable to defend       themselves any longer,”

     Bull shit

    Those            Are           Adults

       They’ve          been             in           war              for          how          long?

     Point         Being;            No           Excuse

     Yeet

     Call        on          the         Jedi          for      assistance       More         Enablers!

   “Hoping          to         save        lives        and      prevent      further    destruction,”

    They did not assume Account -         ability and        Con-       tin      ued      To       Enable

  It’s      a    nice   design   though

 “And    Anakin   Skywalker,”

  They    dragged       the     teenager       into       this     didn’t      they?

   Nice

 Anakin

  Also     now      it’s    crucial

 “We’re       Set,”

  “ got some guys here     that are set to get going,”

   Ooh

  It’s   better

Than    Openly    Snarking      Anakin

 Now       Just    “ it’s a      little      too     much      tone,”       Back

  There      we      go

 Also   focusing       a lot      on that guy       with     yellow     armor

[Bet he’s the new    hero!]

  Whelp

 Everything’s      Looking      Pretty-      Realistic

  That’s        Dry...

  Also     are    you    right    next     to   each   other   using   walkie-talkies?

Cool

Suspic.

  Okay       Neat

   Whelp

   That’s           A          Lot

 Battalion

   Yeah       that’s         a        lot

   Tanks

    Yep  

    Hope         They         ��Have       Explosives

    Whelp

   “A little        Closer”

   Shouldn’t         the      superior        be giving      the orders

Like;        Fair if he handed off that         authority        off screen

     Would’ve           been nice          to see         the plan      coming together           though

       Right

      They’re       splitting            up

       Darn          It

       That      screws            up

      Whelp

       The          Fuck?

       Who            didn’t          give            a        warning??

        Like           they            all           just        silently         died??

Whelp-

  That-

    Sounded literal plastic        cans falling over

     Abort         the       mission

     ????          How?

      Is       there         a     second     doorway??

  -What

   Whelp

    Also that some admittedly weak armor

    Like one shot      and those guys go down

  Whelp

    Then again they are supposed to be    cannon fodder

   [or just outwhelm with numbers]

   Aka; The council probably gave     them cheap armor

    Whelp

   Okay

   Dude, you see flashing lights and a bunch of bullshit going     down

     Like you’ve clearly shown the ability to put pieces together

    And they might be going with a different tone-

    Then again-

  Cut off

  Droids onto       Us...

  Whelp...

      Ouch.            .

       Evac       south          tower            - His           tone is a little too innocent

        Good Plan

       South                Tower

        We’re             in            the                  North

       Not             For-

      [Okay           I’m       conflicted           are          they        going          for             Adult            Anakin?          Because          This             Is            Kinda....       New        Taking         the        bite        out         of         the        Darth       Vader       thing,             But          This          is         the         lead          up...

     Point          being;             If       they’re       going        for      adult,       they      really      need        to      lean      more       into       the     snarky   I-know exactly-what-I’m-doing-        tone

   [Even,          Re-assured        tone]

      If not; then more       monotone

      This           is          the         best           of        neither        worlds

    Does    n’t          Work

    Aight,           Lots           Of         Smart         Decisions

  [Except       for      Obi-wan]

    You          have         blasters

      Not          snipers

        How?

       Wait-

        How-?

       They’re 

      Several

        Yards-

          Blasters are       short range weapons                right?

       In every circumstance we’ve seen            they’ve been            short range-

             So-

... He dead?

    Whelp-          Heck-

    Aight

   Cutting’s         a         little       odd

  Un-    satisfactory

  Get-     Over here

    ????

Now     he can throw       stuff

    Obi-Wan           is a           show        off

   There’s         five        but       okay

   Right        the     elevator

   Oh      roof       top

    That’s       smart

     Now         What?

      No          one       guarding         the         elevator

       Or          heard           it          come          up

     (Those         things         make         noise)

      Whelp

       Good            someone              took               cover                   -

             Whelp

              Okay

               Did everyone join this roof top fight?

               Seriously,                       where is that plane/                         Carrier?

                    Whelp

                      There                                 We                            Are

                    Question                       answered

                     Aight

                    Seriously

                     What                          are                       those                        blasters?

                       I thought they were some high heated sparks that could causes bruises and dents, to the armor, breaking it down

                      But dude reacts like he got hit by a                          one-shot cannonball?

                       Like, why-

                      Anyway...

                   They escape

                    Dude, taking a                        souvenir

                      Seriously,                            that’s sus

                       [Oof]

                       Anyway..

                       [Holy sh*t                            the red!]

                          Maybe                             this tactical droid                            will help

                            You’re                                 sus

How   they   knew   our   plan

????

Has this happened   multiple   times?

That     seems like a pretty big jump?

 Like ‘oh they happen to take a different     path and stumble up the stairs,   traitor- I’m go-”

Seriously

Night

Base

Why

The editing   is   weird

Progression-

Whelp,     that     happened

...

Just   doesn’t    make   sense

That    they    saw   you     and    

reacted accordingly

Like,     what are we supposed to find   sus   here?

Missing    a bit         of   crucial   information

 How     we     got   here

 Ow

How?

Future      Tech

Rt-D2

“Least-”

  Again     -How

“They     had      all     our    Intel,”

We   saw   only   one    line     of      it     that   can      be   gleaned     from     basic   observation

  Please   enlighten      us

 Ambush

Vulnerable

 They   walked     up      a     flight     of    stairs

You   know   what   would’ve   worked   better?

Troop       Movement        Charts

   That      would’ve       worked         a lot better        with the dialogue        going on here

  And       what just happened

Here....       They kinda look like      Over paranoid idiots      for no reason

  I don’t think we did

 .... it was a flight     of stairs

  Infiltrated       our      defenses

 Up      a         flight          of          stairs

    Possibly

Dude     not possibly         you were ready to jump on this idea

   OK so this is a Obi-Wan-and- Anakin-are-overly-paranoid-and-actually stumbled-across-some-thing                                         Mission

Okay    those are fine,        Just      would’ve     liked a few more      context clues

   Exclud      -ing       the       title

    Getting          right        into        the        murder       mystery

   “Intel.”            STAIRS           ....

    Seps

  ‘Who want to betray the      guys who enabled      our           Abuse....”

   Enemy        Lines

    This is       really       corny

  Breaking       out       the    disguises

  Aight

 What....

 Anyone...

   Two       Clones

   Like they do have top security clearance           if we’re going with the Obi-wan’s     paranoid logic

   Cody      didn’t say anything...

    Whelp

   Beeping

    Whelp         Shit

   Why...        did      you     run?

  What kind of run is that...     Rex?

  Follow

   What?

   Also,       teamwork?

   Rex         Has         A         Gun

    Wait,       you’re        going          to       shoot          him??

    Please- tell me that’s a     stun gun

    Whelp,          How?

       That            Face

     Must’ve          gone          in the          mess           hall

Aight

   We’ve       got        a      big    problem

  Did   anyone   switch   into   armor

Also,     ‘ hey     did  someone     come    through     here?’

  You’re        the     superiors

   No     one‘s    going       to    question       a  reprimand      on    conduct

   Oh that you’re going to question      someone you don’t know the name of

  Like,    there’s     five     guys      here

(Maybe      More)

   And     you’re     acting       like         a       basic         “hey       what’s             up,         how’s          it      going        is      going         to      trigger         a       spy     sense,

 Like, there     is some protocol on       running        in       the      hall      right?

    Like,     seems        easy       enough

   Brothers

    Weakest       relation        in         all         the           relations

       Also dude was wearing            A gray uniform

     Did you just think he was the   custodian?

     One           Of           Us

      Did you just leave the cafeteria without....

     Rex & Cody suck at being detectives

    Also what’s his voice just did a      maniacal        there

     Like,         What?!

    We’ll have to wait for his next move....

   What is with the logic.....

   This is supposed to be a murder mystery.... but the logic  is the weakest         part

    “Jedi,”

   We found nothing       master Jedi

      [we did toss away a     lead though]

   .....

    What?

  Real discrete

    Okay

    Smart droid

     .....

     No

  Rex and Cody are the worlds worst       detectives

   Rex    Specifically

   But he was always the     instigator         of       bad         ideas

   R2D2...          Is the     spy

Whelp

...Aight

 Slick

 Aight

Whelp

 ..It was a building..

Aight...

  Whelp

   Whelp

 Time to have cookies and tea with the   separatist leader

No,       No      Way

  Assumed     authority

  Whelp

   Two        of      them       have       hair

[excluding    Slick]

  Who’s     name       is     slick

  What

   It’s       Him 

   ...

Okay     now     they      all     have     hair

Bullshit    Animators

  Two       of     those     guys      were      very    clearly    bald

  Dude    Went         To        Crate-

  In-consistency

   The third guy came out of nowhere

     And it wasn’t Slick

     Seriously my eyes on fifth guy

      He can appear out of thin            air

     Nice

   Whelp

 Stabbed

   Okay

 Ventress   Seriously,       did the cloak      conceal that much?

Unpleasant

  Obi-won, stop flirting

  Sorry

  Obi-won

   Seriously,         What is with     this scene?

  I’m      as       Ace       as        it      can        get

   (And not interested in my commentary becoming       *that*)

    And       this      scene        is     clearly        ship

   Like,      should     Anakin       go       to         a     different       room?

 [again I’m not trying to make it]

       Okay back to the clones

        [Thank God]

         What-

        Dear frick

     [i’m not sure which was       worse]

          Fuck

    Also, Machine Gu-

     Nope

      - -

    Are the     innuendos         - -        Going          to         end?

    I’m      trying        to be a relatively      serious      reviewer

    And.... sex jokes are not my   style

  Eer-

  Right         Away       

   Sket

    Dear          frick         His       name          is       literally       Sketch

    Else

    There were-    there was one dude

    Also-  why didn’t you ask when you were in the       mess?

   We          Will

    It’s       Slick

“ I     got   nothing      to       hide ,”

  Yeah,       he      does

    Med       Droids

   Aight

 Chopper

  Seriously being last must   suck

Already throwing     sus

*Up

Chopper       doesn’t have hair!

Oh, good   done with the flirting

   My       Loyal     Informant

  Gosh     dammit   Obi-won

Anakin,        Just      wants         it     over

  Whelp

Obi-wan      doesn’t     wanna       help

   Nice  

   Cool

   Don’t   shame      the      man       for       his     hobbies      (Except        for        the      enabling         of        war        part)

    Aight

    Whelp

     What

     Geez

      Like

       That’s like       collecting metal from a        training exercise

     What??

    Didn’t Cody take a          feckin head

     Seriously,      dysfunctional      is a bit strong

    Fuck

   He was doing        arts and crafts

 At least   he fessed up

  Forbidden?

   Seriously

    What          About          Rex?

      Oh whoever took the         fecking head??

    I’m no spy

    Ack

    Now         Obi-won’s    helping

   Chopper

Slick’s    Projecting

Okay

Tell     where     you     want

 Good       Job

   Saw         You

   Whelp

   Sergeant

   Freudian         Slip

   They         Have        Missions?

   I       Mean

   Name’s        literally          Slick         (Honestly        I would’ve gone          with one          of the two            “Higher                     Ups              Here;                 Would’ve                  Gone              for               a            better             twist/               Fore           shadow-ed              the             turn            (Discontent)                Ment;                This                is            just           some         random           guy

Still      servicable

 They     really   pulled      off      the   manipulator;        Wished       they        showed      this        side          of       the      enabler’s     more

   He         Won  

   Poor        Dude

   Heck          Stalling

 Seriously     what is the plan here?

 To capture her

  To...

 Get     hit      with     the    book

 Whelp

  He   should       be   long   gone

His   shelter,     is on the other side

He’s   already   got   a   Headstart 

So,     the gun ship.   is   pretty pointless

Ha     Trap

But did they just not use their     eyes?

They were right behind     him

Did....they just se. something     in the opposite direction     and   was like   ‘yeah that’s fine’

Cause     Geez

Rex       &     Cody

Ace       Detectives    Of    Freakin      None

Whelp

I thought it was just-       A Signal lure     Nope       Was     an   actual   bomb       ...      Whelp

Okay,          ... Heck

How   fast   was   fecking   slim?

Because there’s no way   no one noticed   Bombs just sitting there      ....

Like    What...

Whelp

Damn    Slim...

Take     out     the   kitchen      sink     too?

  The     Usain       Bolt,          Of      Clones

   “He        took        out      our      weapons       depot,”

  Yeah..     

   One          Dude

   What       was        he      eating?

   Pure        Sugar?

  Whelp

   That      Sucked

   He’s      not     trying         to     escape

    You         sure?

    Pretty        sure          he       could          do         both..

    [Okay,        that’s       enough        jokes          about         his       speed,           He’s           a         fast            boi]

Make     Them

You’re   terrible   superiors

[Like   everyone      is      but      you     specifically]

“Give up Ventress,”

“ i’m all yours      Obi-Wan,”

 SERIOUSLY!

    Whelp,         Clever

  “You’ve served your purpose.]

[Can      the    innuendos      stop     please?]

    Also         what        was        the       plan       here?

    Why?

    How?

   How         do      you     know     that?

   How       do        they        know      about      that??

    What??

    What’s           the        plan,         master?

     He          spent          the           entire             time,                      flirting

      Like I’m pretty convinced there was no plan

  “My sweet,”

    You           Don’t have anything to bargain  with

    “Estimated”

   Dude, how

   You       are      literally          in         a       hole

    Hop

    Well         that         was         easy

     Cool

     “Boys”

       Err-

      (How          old         is       Anakin        again?)

       Old         enough              to     supposedly           be         groomed

      (So           Under...)

        Ew,                Just             Ew

      (Despite                 The              (Adult)         Dialogue...)

        Friends...

        Seriously

         Poor            Obi-wan...

        Aight

        “Take             Control...”

           Okay,                 I’m sorry,                my heads                 in the               gutter

             (Not by                choice!)

               Also,                  Seriously?

               You                 burned-                    like                    five                 things?

                 Sucks,                      not                    really                      world                   -ending

                  How did we get this guy??

            Seriously?

         I don’t know

      Was he the test subject for some like     speed serum?

        Slick           ran           into           the      command           center

        Why?

        Also            he’s         probably           gone

       (Boi            is           fast)

       Whelp

         That            things               tilting?                How            much            does             she-

         Okay,              Whatever

          You’re               on               that

           Whelp

            Jumping                   is                    a                        good                    idea

                 Off

                Aight

               Prepare                       to                   march                      on                       the                        city

                     Geez

                        Is                            it                           that                            dude

                             Is                                this                                  an                                  origin-                                      [I                                   don’t                                   like                                     the                                   movie;                                   nothing                                     can                                     save                                       it]

                                Delay                                    the                                     Jedi                                     ...                                     Yes                                mistress

                            Aight

                            Right

                             Heck                                     is                                 the                             octopus                               thing

      He’s   probably      gone

  Whelp

   Lock         Down

    Aight

     Shit          Sun

    Aight

A   Bunch      of   bullshit     but     cool

   I’m      not      the     traitor      you        are

   He’s      got       a     point

  Also,     see      he    could    totally    kick     his     ass      he     did         it    before

   He        HAS          A       Point

Suffering

 -Err

 Brothers

 Seriously,       Weakest        relation        ever

     Of

   Freedom

     HE      HAS            A           Point

      (A         Garbled              One]

   Bull- shit

      He sustained a lot less         hits than either of those        two

    What

    Dicks

   Seriously it seems mostly intentional     but they really are just such      dicks

  (Anakin        -What         the         frick)

      HE        HAS          A       POINT!

    Bidding

     Whim

  [seriously        why         is      Anakin        the        more...]

     I      love       my     brothers

   Dick

    ?

  Good       For       Him

     ?

     ?

     -

     -

    Oof

    Now the plans don’t really make sense

    Mainly just a rushed framing device             For the       mystery

      If you focus on that          it’s pretty good

      But the villain really         saves it

     It’s honestly     heart-wrenching

    You        really       do        feel       for       the       guy

    But         shit situation and all            (And it is a shit situation          grooming and all)      That         that        energy      should          only           be       pointed          at         the      abuser                 (And     subsequent       enablers)           And      getting         out          of         that         shit       situation

      For           your        own       benefit        and        for       others

    Including         your         own      generation          (Even          the        enablers,              Who          will             their           dues               on            case              by            case            basis)               Of        Accountability                   And                Both              You                And               They                 Deserve             better              than                  to                live                with                  an               enabler

                As                    for                     the                    future                  generation,                          Do it right                        and                     they’ll                     know                       all                      they                         have                        to                        be                      thankful                         for,                     without a word,                     personally

                    The                       way                         it                      should                        be

[minhthangcoi9993-blog]

Review Game Hitman 2

Despite what my high school guidance counselor says, I'd make a terrible hitman. I'm fine with the whole killing thing; I just don't seem to have the patience to keep the killing to a minimum acceptable level. If I can save three minutes by killing a guy, I'll probably do it. Such is the verdict at least of a week's worth of playing Eidos' Hitman 2, the follow up to one of the better-conceived games of 2000.

But while the original had some really interesting ideas, the actual implementation of those ideas fell short in a few key areas. Thankfully, the sequel fixes virtually everything that was wrong with the first game and preserves everything that we liked. Better still, the game doesn't take the fact that I'm an impatient hitman seriously enough that it keeps me from enjoying myself.

For those of you who are just joining us, Hitman 2 puts you in the role of Agent 47, an assassin for hire, and sends you all over the world performing murders for hire. But things don't start like that. The hitman, codenamed 47, has had a change of heart and repented from his evil ways and is now living in a monastery. Without giving it away, circumstances call him back in to action.

Soon he's in the midst of a dangerous world where he himself is often the most dangerous element. Hired to kill for money, he travels to various locations around the globe performing a series of seemingly unconnected hits that gradually come together to form a larger picture. Along the way, you can take many different approaches to your contracts. As long as the guy you're supposed to kill winds up dead, no one's in a position to complain.

To a large extent, that's the real beauty of Hitman 2. While Thief is a great game, the fact that you have to use stealth gives it a limitation (albeit a compelling one) that Hitman 2 doesn't have. Instead, Hitman 2 lets you play either blatantly excessive or artfully efficient in terms of violence and confrontation. Sure, most missions offer substantial rewards for the inconvenience inherent in sneaking around, but few of them categorically restrict the player to this approach. Given the practical benefits of going in with guns blazing, how you progress through a level is more a matter of taste than a matter of mission scripting.

That simply philosophy is apparent at all levels -- from the game's core concept to the execution of the smallest tasks. Since Dan played a great deal of the game for our previews, we've been sharing a lot of our experiences with each other. In nearly every case, I'm amazed that we've both come up with drastically different yet equally effective solutions to the same missions. Still more impressive is that he and I can have vastly different body counts for successful missions. In some cases, one or the other of us was able to focus on a much less bloody approach than the other.

Play now Fallout shelter mysterious stranger

Hot new Magic fighting game

Like I said, most of my missions were a little too bloody, and there's a greater satisfaction to be found in infiltrating a level, avoiding all the guards, killing your lone target and then getting out again without anyone being the wiser. The game ranks your performance based on the amount of disruption you cause in a given mission. The efficient players will be labeled "stealth assassins," the more reckless ones are likely to be termed "mass murderers." Realistically, you'll wind up in between most of the time, coming across as a simple "hatchet man" or "slayer."

During the course of the game, you'll have to take on a number of tasks -- that is to say, you'll have to take on the same task (killing a dude) in a number of different circumstances and settings. You'll have to break in to a penthouse and make your hit look like a burglary. Or you'll have to ice a general who's interrogating a prisoner deep in a military basement. Or place a transmitter on a guy, then kill him so you can track his corpse to the guy you really want to kill, his father.

All of these missions are delivered to you via a laptop in your shed. One would assume that a state-of-the-art hitman would have access to better intelligence than your guy seems to. The large streets maps that you get don't show things like doors or windows or even how many floors a given building has. You get this info for some of the key structures but there are more than a few instances where looking at the map gives you almost no indication of what the level is really like.

As a result, some of the more difficult missions require you to go in and screw things up once or twice before you get a sense of how the various pieces of the puzzle add up to a successful mission. There are also a number of items and triggers that are hard to figure out exactly. Occasionally the game will give you an item (like a cell phone and a pager) without presenting a clear circumstance for its use. I really like the free nature of this approach and the improvisation required to pull it off is kind of fun. Still, it seems like a professional hitman would be a little better prepared before going off on a hit.

There are also some frustrating ambiguities in the mission briefings. In an early mission, you're told that you can pick up your equipment "near the pier." What this actually means is "complete across the street from the pier behind a dumpster." It seems amateurish that your employers aren't clearer about these things. In any case, this is a game that tests how resourceful you are and how quickly you can adapt to changes in the "plan."

But even if you figure out a particular path through a level, there are bound to be plenty of others that you didn't try or perhaps weren't even aware of. In one mission where you have to assassinate two men meeting in a park, I fixed it by planting a bomb on one of the guy's cars, and then climbed up a radio tower to snipe the other one. When his friend went down, the other guy raced to his car and boom! Dan, on the other hand, after placing the bomb on the first lime merely waited until the other limo driver went down an alley to take a leak. Dan snuck up and strangled him, switched his clothes and walked back to plant the bomb on the limo himself.

One big (and entirely welcome) change is the addition of a save system. Based on the difficultly level you've chosen, you'll be allotted a certain number of saves for each mission. At the end of the mission, your success rating is dependent on the number of saves you've used. The game also rewards more stealthy players with bonus saves for completing particular tasks without resorting to some sort of bloodbath. Being sneaky also rewards you with extra equipment for subsequent missions.

[technewss15-blog]

Funny To A Point – Heeding The Call In Destiny 2

After years of listening to gamers gripe about how the original Destiny ruined their lives in every conceivable way (even as they logged in hundreds of hours), Destiny 2 is finally here. Does the shiny new sequel provide Bungie with the redemption it doesn’t really need and has never asked for? Seeing as how all the early criticism has focused on the way shaders are used to paint your guardian pretty colors, it seems like the answer is yes. But we all know that the real verdict won’t be rendered until the professional critics weigh in – and we all know that the only professional critic that really matters is ME. Well, fear not, dear readers: Like my hideous Smurfette of a guardian, I am up to the task and ready to save the day!

Full disclosure: I never actually managed to finish the original Destiny. I played for about a week or so when the game first came out, but lost interest when that weird emo prince showed up in the incomprehensible-yet-paradoxically-simple story. My experience with Destiny since then has been downloading every new expansion and then feeling progressively more guilty for not actually playing them.

So what imbues me with the expertise needed to weigh in on Destiny 2, you ask? Well, for starters I was one of the first critics to identify and outline some of the major problems of the first Destiny – I was so early, in fact, that I received a massive amount of hate from the same super fans who would become Destiny’s super haters once they realized I knew what the hell I was talking about. I also cracked Destiny’s biggest secret, which has still eluded everyone else, so I think that makes me the King of Destiny? I dunno. Anywho, let’s get on with it, shall we?

Note: You can click on any of the pictures for a better look at whatever misadventures are being documented.

Destiny 2’s opening cinematic lays out the series’ plot like it’s reading a picture book to a child, and it’s a decision that I wholly appreciate. At this point, all I really remember about the first game is that a giant ping-pong ball gave my zombie soldier some sweet superpowers, which I used to kill a bunch of angry aliens as I searched for shiny balls engrams to score more loot. The intro doesn’t contain any huge revelations (“a mysterious good force is fighting a mysterious evil force!”), but I no longer felt the need to look up a plot synopsis on a Destiny fan wiki after watching it, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

Actually, Destiny 2’s intro did contain one particularly rude revelation: Because I didn’t max out my Destiny 1 guardian (I’m going to go ahead and blame Prince Creep for that), I can’t import her into the sequel. So as far as I can tell, from a lore perspective my original guardian gets blasted to smithereens during the cabal attack that kicks off Destiny 2. Not being able to carry over my character isn’t a huge loss, but it does undermine the fantasy a bit:

The Speaker: “You are the chosen Guardian, who will rise from the dead and save humanity from the galaxy’s greatest thr–“

*BLAMMO!!!* [Guardian’s head explodes into a fine mist.]

The Speaker: [Shuffling over to the next corpse] “Ahem…You are the chosen guardian…”

Anyway, with my old guardian now super-forever dead, I resign myself to creating a new character from scratch. I go with the Hunter class, because like me they are crafty and roguish and it’s my fantasy world so I’ll believe whatever I want! I also opt for a female Awoken, because humans are boring and robots are probably going to kill us all one day and I don’t need to be reminded of it every time I pull the trigger. At this point I realize I’ve remade all the same class choices I did in the first game, so I decide to just remake my character entirely. Think you’re getting rid of my guardian that easy? Think again!

Creating a character in a game usually turns into an all-night affair for me, as I obsessively shift every slider back and forth to its extremes before settling on the default position. Not so in Destiny 2! You get to create the exact hero of your dreams – by choosing from 7 stock faces and a handful of the ugliest hairstyles imaginable, because apparently the barbers were the first ones to be killed off in the apocalypse. Normally my wife weighs in on every minute detail during the character creation process, but the only feedback she offers me about Destiny 2’s limited options is that one hairstyle in particular makes my character “look like a heathen.” I’m not even sure what that means.

This just looks like Conan The Barbarian’s haircut to me, though come to think of it he probably was a heathen, so I guess she was right after all.

I opt for a crazy space mohawk instead, then move on to the face tattoos, which are always being as pointless and ill-advised in character creators as they are in real-life. Even so, Destiny 2 sets a new low bar for the extraneous category. Once again, I imagine an intern – possibly the same one who made Andromeda’s preset faces for BioWare – whipped them up in a matter of minutes.

Intern: “Hey, here are some face dots.”

Bungie Employee: “…You mean freckles?”

Intern: “Nah man, just face dots.”

Bungie Employee: “Alrighty then. Next!”

Somehow my guardian ends up looking vaguely like Margaery Tyrell, if she was thrown into the Mad Max universe and also purple for some reason. As totally rad as that sounds, I immediately regret every decision I made as soon as she pops up in the first actual cutscene – the gaming equivalent of getting dressed in the dark and then realizing you’re wearing your wife’s shirt as soon as you step out into the sunlight.* My wife also didn’t seem impressed, simply stating, “she looks quite striking,” which I assume is a polite euphemism for fugly. But whatever – at least it’s time to finally start playing!

Destiny 2 wastes no time getting into the action; after a brief cutscene starring the three characters from the first game that actually had faces, players are thrust into battle against a new faction of turtle-looking enemies called the Cabal. The Cabal are hellbent on destroying The Last City, which would normally be the name of a piece of armor or some robot butler in a Bungie game, but in this case it’s an actual city. Come to think of it, the Cabal is also a perfectly adequate name for an enemy faction…has Bungie lost its edge?!

What the heck are the space moles from Mass Effect doing in Destiny? And why are they so mean?!

The gameplay opens with your guardian returning to The Last City after some kind of patrol (or a sandwich run for we all know), and landing on the outskirts of the siege. I spend a few minutes of getting reacquainted with the controls, which includes immediately throwing a grenade at my feet and blasting away half my health. From there it’s on to the first battle, though things don’t go quite how I expect.

Even after all these years, I still remember my first open-ended skirmish in Halo; how dynamic the battle felt, and how the A.I. enemies seemed to be thinking and reacting for themselves. In contrast, much of the opening level in Destiny 2 feels more like Disney’s It’s A Small World ride than an FPS, as you’re guided from one small murder diorama to the next. Even for a self-grenading chump like myself, the initial enemies you face are about as threatening as the paper silhouettes at a shooting range, taking a step or two and then waiting politely for you to shoot their heads into some kind of ghost vapor. On the positive side, the controls feel as silky smooth as ever, and the first two guns I picked up were called Origin Story and The Last Dance, so at least Bungie’s still got it!

After a few more underwhelming encounters, the game’s seamless co-op kicks in – another guardian is just over the ridge and is in need of reviving! I’m not sure how he managed to die during this dog and pony show, but by the time I get over to him, a third player has him back up on his feet. It’s the thought that counts though, right?

Our improvised trio rallies around the bald dude who despite being a blue alien is always going to be Captain Daniels to me and anyone else who has seen The Wire (to my wife he’s the captain from Fringe, which is basically the same role only with parallel universes thrown into the mix). Daniels tells me that I should stay behind his shield, but I get annihilated by an incoming missile before it’s even deployed. So that’s how my co-op buddy died…

The Night King shows up in Destiny 2, but apparently he’s a good guy now.

One of my anonymous pals revives me and we hunker down and fight off a few waves of enemies together. It’s a cool, ships-passing-in-the-night kind of moment that reminds me of Journey, albeit with more guns and grenades and slaughtering aliens as they mindlessly funnel into my murder canal.** Once the assault ends, I turn to wave to my teammates, only to see that they have disappeared without so much as a goodbye –apparently manners were also a casualty of the apocalypse.

I move onto the next area and run into another NPC who I should probably know from the first game, but she promptly tells me that she’s going to “kick the Cabal where it hurts,” and then jumps onto the nose of a spaceship and disappears. I assume she’s talking about their space nards, though that’s an assumption in and of itself – how does she know the Cabal are males? Way to assume their gender, only human lady left on whatever planet this is. Seriously, is this Earth? Whatever. On to the next fight!

The next encounter actually gives me a run for my money, thanks to one enemy in particular: Pashk, The Searing Will. I know that’s his name because I actually took extra damage just to grab a screen of it.

No wonder he’s fighting so hard – people have probably made fun of his name for his whole life!

Unfortunately for him, Pashk is no match for Ode To An Unbroken Heart, which is the name I just gave my melee knife because two can play that game, Bungie!

With Pashk’s searing will extinguished, I head onto the next area, only to trigger a cutscene that introduces Destiny 2’s villain: a massive Cabal warrior named Ghaul. Well, mostly massive – his tiny bald head makes him look like a dude in a mascot suit who took his head off for a breather. Also, what is with villains wearing masks that distort their voices? Have we learned nothing from Bane?

I’m sorry, a world without what? Work on your enunciation, Ghaul! Also, why yo head so tiny?

Regardless, Ghaul gives a little speech about how puny guardians are, then drives the point home by planting his foot in my face and kicking me off of the magic tower we were trying to defend. As if that’s not bad enough, he also puts some kind of massive chastity belt on the ping-pong ball Traveler, which sucks away all the guardians’ superpowers. Talk about rude!

Despite just being a regular alien lady again, my guardian somehow survives the stories-high fall off the magic tower – though I guess that’s probably because it wouldn’t be much of a game otherwise (“And so the final guardian perished, and the might Cabal took over the galaxy. Thanks for playing!”). I limp out of the burning city with only a pistol, shooting some strange spikey dog creatures that also barf up their souls when they die (seriously, what kind of bullets are you shooting in this game?). Eventually a woman with a hawk shows up and invites me back to her village, which serves as the game’s first social hub. By that point in the evening my narcolepsy starts kicking in, and I repeatedly fall asleep while kicking around a giant soccer ball, only to wake up a few minutes later to sight of my character being nuked for wandering out of bounds – always a good time to call it quits.

You thought I was joking about falling asleep, didn’t you? Think again!

While Destiny 2’s opening doesn’t leave the strongest impression (even by tutorial-level standards), it contains at least a few sparks of Bungie’s patented dynamic combat, and does a much better job setting up a story and villain than the first game. And while I wasn’t particularly blown away by anything in my first night (well, except for the out-of-bounds limit), my subsequent play sessions have been more emblematic of what Destiny 2 strives for: tense and challenging fire fights against formidable enemies; an addictive loot loop that has me switching up my arsenal at a satisfying pace; and fun public events that you can jump into during the final few seconds and still nab the rewards. There’s also the PvP that I’m sure I’ll get obliterated in, and co-op strikes and raids if I can ever get Jeff Cork to put down Path of Exile and play with me (oh how the tables have turned).

Oftentimes in my column I tend to either gush endless praise for a game or take a big dump on it, but so far Destiny 2 hasn’t elicited anything quite so extreme from me. I’m enjoying the combat and the sense of progression, despite the fact that my character feels more like a mute marionette puppet than a super hero (seriously, a silent protagonist? In 2017?). And while I’m enjoying the game more and more every night, I don’t know that I’ll be one of those crazy people who plays it obsessively for years on end.

Anyway, I continued writing down more impressions and anecdotes in the subsequent play sessions, but rather than weaving them all into a(n even) long(er) and (more) boring narrative, I’ll just throw them in with some pictures and videos, and use the extra time to play more of the game. If that’s not a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is!

Few games take the term “monster closet” more literally than Destiny 2. It’s seriously just a door with mysterious black smoke!

The European Dead Zone is like a taxi zone at the airport – ships are constantly coming in and dropping aliens off on the same street. You’d think they’d have a better invasion plan.

All joking aside, Bungie serves up some awesome sci-fi environments every now and then.

The hawk lady seems pretty cool. Even if she fell for the face dots.

Titan looks like an awesome neon-blue planet when you view it on the map, but it turns out it’s just Mother Base. Also, what’s with all these potato-chip bags?!

Sometimes Destiny 2’s combat suffers from the level design, with enemies funneling into murder canals because it’s the only path through the environment. Then again, sometimes it’s also fun to rack up a billion headshots in a row.

I ran across these two little frog aliens, which I’m assuming are Destiny’s equivalent of Statler and Waldorf. I’m hoping they play a big role in the story later on.

Not to get too deep into spoiler territory, but Cayde’s torrid love affair with this chicken is as emotionally touching as it is sexually graphic.

There are a lot of big balls in Destiny 2. Just saying.

Seriously, they’re all over the place.

Bungie says the EDZ is the biggest zone they’ve ever created, but I don’t know how that’s possible when every rig on Titan contains an endless sprawl of identical rooms and corridors. One time when I was hopelessly looking for an exit, I ran into a big knight-looking dude and received a Lost Sector banner when I defeated him. In my case the “Lost” was quite literal. Also, does anyone else find it weird that Titan is a class in Destiny 2 and also a planet? Too many Titans, Bungie!

I don’t even want to know what that is.

Breaking news: The totally useless spaceships return in Destiny 2! They’re not fooling anyone, but they do make for a pretty snazzy-looking loading screen.

Everyone spawns into the same location on The Farm, making you look like some horrific, multi-headed mutant. The extra arms would probably come in handy during battle, though.

I was super excited when I got sword from a treasure chest. A sword! Then I found out it’s some kind of weird magic sword that needs ammo. How the hell is that better than a rocket launcher?!

And finally, it’s not a sci-fi game if you don’t have floating rocks – and also point out said floating rocks to the player via NPC dialogue. In this case, ghost speculates that they’re caused by some kind of Hive magic. How’s that for science fiction!***

Need a few more laughs? Click on the banner below to check out Funny To A Point’s fancy-pants hub!

Funny To A Point – Heeding The Call In Destiny 2 was originally published on Tech News Center The Digital Generation