#would also explain why Dante’s place is a disaster

[queenmuzz]

So, with Sparda’s True Form resembling a cockroach...

And with him living in the human world for two thousand years, I expect his residence before he met Eva to resemble an episode of Hoarders.

He’s got mouldy documents dating to Emperor Justinian’s time, soggy boxes of first edition books (such as the Aeneid, Canterbury Tales and of course, The Divine Comedy). He’s got relics, ancient maps, damaged paintings, even a piece of the True Cross, all disorganized and jumbled together in a health hazardous mess. And then Eva shows up, the first chick in two millennia willing to help him clean up his place, standing up to him when he refuses to throw away the moth eaten silk robe that was worn by one of the Tang Emperor’s.

[snicketstrange]

The secret meeting at Hospital H

THH ... How intriguing this book is for theorists like me.  We have a library with a lot of information.  We have the revelation about the SB theft.  And we have the information that a person loved by Lemony died in a terrible fire on afternoon.  Or at least that's what Lemony believed at the time he wrote THH.

Let me reignite the flames of one of asoue's main controversies a little, and I would say one of the most important: Is Lemony Snicket a reliable narrator?

Well, surprisingly we have Daniel Handler's confirmation that Lemony is not a reliable narrator.  This is very important information from the author himself.

However, this leaves theorists with more problems than solutions.  If Lemony is unreliable, does that mean he lies on purpose? And before I think the answer to that is yes or no, I can say that the most sensible answer (without making an assessment of the text itself, but of the statement) is that it is not necessarily so.

Let me cite an example of Brazilian literature in a book called Dom Casmurro. The narrator is the main character. He categorically states that his wife betrayed him. It provides evidence that for it sufficient, but an attentive reader will soon realize that the evidence presented are not conclusive, and all can be explained as misunderstandings. But the question is: did she betray him or not? The answer is that it can not be sure, and that was what the author wanted. To this day people argue about it, and no one has achieved a definitive answer, despite the statister's statements. The narrator is unreliable, not because he wants to fool the reader, but because he makes statements that they simply are not necessarily true even though he believing them.

Now let's think about Lemony Snicket.  The main argument that serves as evidence that Lemony is an unreliable narrator is that he sometimes contradicts himself.  After all, either Beatrice died one morning, or she died one afternoon, or she didn't even die.  Either Kit Snicket died on the island during the time when the Buadelaires children were there, or she was alive at the time of the publication of the books.  But if we take into account the evidence that Lemony spent years writing his books, there is a possibility that these contradictions are caused by Lemony's access to new information, which led him to complete other things as he published his books.  The fact that he contradicts himself only underscores the value he gave to the truth: when he himself realized that he had been wrong in some detail, he was not ashamed to clarify some details.  We can say that, based on this logic, when Lemony wrote THH, he believed that Beatrice had died on a different occasion from the fire in her house.  Although this statement itself cannot be substantiated, due to the unreliable nature of the narrator (who may be mistaken again regarding Beatrice's death) it does mean that Lemony had access to information that made him believe that Beatrice survived the fire  from her house.

(Of course the credibility of these possible information can also be contested). Still, it's good to ask ourselves, "Why did Lemony change his mind?"

We can say that there are two canonical moments that can indicate the reasons why Lemony changed her opinion.  One of these reasons I have always defended, and I will not dwell here: The masquerade ball at which Lemony was captured took place after the publication of TRR.  And TRR was published years after the main events described in asoue.  Whether Beatrice was actually there or not is a good question, after all it may have been a scheme to attract and capture Lemony.(better than a costume party to disguise yourself as someone else).

But still we have proof that Lemony believed that Beatrice could have survived for many years after the fire at her house.

But, while he was writing THH, he believed that Beatrice had died at some point after that, at some time when a suspicious typewriter was involved (as indicated in the three-part art that describes what happened to Beatrice).

The other and canonical evidence is the list of patients in the form of anagrams contained in THH. I always believed that the names on this list were fourth wall breaks. As Dante said, it would be unlikely that a great disaster in Vfd make several people involved with VFD go to the same hospital at the same time. This convinced me at the time. But then, Roxy222 , in a game, created a more interesting theory. The list of patients containing Lemony Snicket Anagrams, Beatrice Baudelaire, Daniel Handler, Lisa Brown and others should not in fact be a list of true patients. According to Roxy, VFD must have marked some secret meeting at the hospital that day, and the list of patients would actually be a list of people present for that meeting.

It makes a lot of sense.   Hospital H had a library linked to VFD.  Information related to VFD arrived in physical media, which indicates that someone personally took it there.  Due to the confidential nature of these messages (not even Hal could read them in detail) it is to be expected that the messengers were people connected to VFD or animals connected to VFD.  It is not difficult to imagine the hospital as a meeting place.

Second, there would be no reason for Count Olaf to simply write all those anagrams there.  It is quite possible that when he went to write Violet Baudelaire's anagram he simply came across a list of anagrams with names of his enemies.  He easily deduced that his enemies were around.   Although he did not deduce the names of each one, it was easy to see that those were anagrams of someone from VFD, and so he deduced that it could be some of his enemies.  This certainly served as an additional motivation for Olaf to start a fire in that hospital.

Third, there is my theory about how Lemony knew about events in detail, including secret Baudelaire meetings.  Klaus and Sunny decoded their sister's anagram in a room where only the two of them were.  Klaus disregarded anagrams that could not have been Violet's.  However, Lemony knows the names of these anagrams.  Although Klaus has an incredible memory, I think it is unlikely that he would write these names in the island book, on which Lemony based a good part of his writings according to my theory.  That list must have been destroyed in the fire.  So the information about the contents of the other names on the list must be something that Lemony Snicket himself already knew.  This is evidence that he was indeed there, that day, and that is why his name was there, in the form of an anagram, on that list.

This is evidence that Lemony did believe that Beatrice had survived her house fire when he published TRR.  (Although he started writing TBB before the fire at Hospital H, although he probably published it years later, as indicated in TBBRE).

[crimsoncityhq]

The night has been advertised by multiple commercials in the civilian’s homes, and even dead bodies littered on some residence lawns. It’s dusk on a Thursday in February. The gates to the Fire and Ice Festival are lowered after hours of waiting in the biting Chicago tundra, and the crowd, over 4,000 strong, rushes in. Most are expecting a night of drunken freedom, cozied up by the outdoor heaters that promise a warm welcome, but some foresee the chaos bound to erupt across the lawn.

The first act takes the stage, and anyone who isn’t inebriated, courtesy of the open bar, is perceptive enough to realize that, no, that’s not Kanye West. Instead they are mesmerized by the lyrical lip syncher Dante Yeast—he looks enough like him, it’s better not to question it. One would think that the O’Sheas, Vasiles, and the Fausts all gathered in one spot would spell disaster, yet the evening rolls on without a hitch, despite the tensions slowly building in its periphery. Fausts members, too, are scattered across the ocean of bodies, but some faces are missing, figureheads who pull the strings.

 Maybe they’re absorbed by the crowd; maybe they thought better of attending, but there’s a sense of unease that settles in the air. It’s not quite right, but no one can put a finger on why. Another beer, and the thought is lost is the swell of the music—if they didn’t know any better, they’d think the bass replicates the sound of distant explosions.

You’re free to start plotting. You can start posting starters/threads tomorrow, February 20th, 2020 at 7:30PM CST !  Part II coming February 24th ( Plot Slots can be found below the cut ! )

We’re going to allow each person to choose two plot slots for two characters max .If there are any leftovers, we’ll let members know when they can sign up for thirds.

You’ll notice that some of these plots are public, so feel free to have your character react to them/ notice them even if they aren’t happening directly to your character. However, if something feels like it happened privately to another character, please check in with their Mun to see if it’s okay for your character to know.

To be clear: these are not the only things that happen to your character during this plot drop and you are more than welcome to cook up your own trouble.

To sign up for a plot slot message the main! You can start doing that as soon as right now!

CHARACTER A, CHARACTER B, CHARACTER C, are approached by the venue to play as impersonators for the opening act of the show. However, it turns out…they are the show along with other noteworthy impersonators. 

CHARACTER D & CHARACTER E end up camped out at the ticket box office on the other side of the lawn seats. They want a refund for the musical event after their cards were erroneously charged the next day on ADAM & EVE. Much to their surprise they come face to face with CHARACTER F( Faust ).

AUTUMN DAWSON is shitfaced prior to arriving at the music festival. They try to crowd surf before the opening act, and would get immediately dropped if NATHAN BURR didn’t catch their fall. 

CHARACTER I & CHARACTER J purchased tickets to meet the bands backstage. They are led by the security detail of the event to two tents filled with a scent of gunpowder. Upon further inspection, they find a crate of fireworks. Do what you will.

CHARACTER K jumps on stage to hijack the mic and accidentally falls and breaks their ankle.

CHARACTER L & CHARACTER M are dosed with PCP by a stranger serving up “free” cocktails. Everything is a blur and they both snap back to reality an hour later, but they’re in the middle of an intense fist fight.

EFFIE FAUST & CHARACTER O engage in a mud wrestling contest that is being judged by no one whatsoever. 

CHARACTER P & CHARACTER Q make out in a port-o-potty, but realize shortly after they’re locked inside. It’s up to CHARACTER R to either let them out...or tip them over.

CHARACTER S is mistaken as Pat Benatar. ASLI DEMIR drunkenly convinces them to go on stage to sing LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD.

 CHARACTER U & CHARACTER V go hard on the alcoholic beverages & psychedelic treats  at the start of the festival, by the end of it neither of them know where their shoes or wallets are. 

CHARACTER W finds their soulmate in a drunken stupor and grinds on them for the better half of two hours, only to realize the grindee is ZHI ROU, who has been uncomfortably shifting away from them this entire time. 

CHARACTER Y breaks all of their glow sticks and covers themselves in the liquid. It’s all fun and games until that shit starts to burn. CHARACTER Z does their best to quench CHARACTER Y with every bottled water they can find.

 CHARACTER A1, CHARACTER B1, & CHARACTER C1 are hired security guards for the event. They have no clue who hired them to do it. 

INGRID VASILE  starts to overdose on COCAINE. LEV VASILE notices their struggle and assists them to the med tent. DOMINIC MURPHY is around the med tent and notices the commotion. 

 CHARACTER  F1 tries to charge their phone using the musical equipment & gets electrocuted. Also it starts to play the most recent song listened to on their phone which is SONG OF THEIR CHOICE. 

GRIFFIN DYER is held up at security when they try to enter the venue, because they tried to smuggle in a small animal. CHARACTER H1 isn’t really security and jacks the animal instead.

SERENITY MICHAELS starts to question their sanity when they see a small animal run in circles in front of them and jet off towards the direction of the port-o-potty. 

RACHEL BYRNE feels something small and furry scaling the back of their dress, and, assuming it’s someone’s hand, slaps DAHLIA CAVALLI in the mouth before the small animal scurries away and they have to apologize.

CHARACTER L1 chases the small animal and just when they are sure they’ve caught it, the animal bites them on the neck. CHARACTER M1, who is higher than a motherfucker and hallucinating, sees CHARACTER L1 cradling their neck and automatically assumes a vampiric transformation is happening. CHARACTER L1 has to survive the following attack from a stranger with a pocket knife.

CHARACTER N1 is on their fifth drink at the venue. They hear a loud slurping noise, only to find the small animal lapping their beer in hand. Out of surprise they scream which causes the animal to shit on their hand and run away. CHARACTER O1 looks on in amazement, wonder, and terror as CHARACTER N1 wipes their hand on an unknowing CHARACTER P1. CHARACTER O1 is conflicted if they should say anything but takes a Snapchat video of the whole scenario anyway. It goes viral on Tik Tok the following evening.

The small animal finally gets caught by SANTIAGO PEREZ in a battle that lasts 10 minutes. The small animal is then given to CHARACTER R1 whom they assume is the owner. 

CHARACTER S1 is lost to the world, and passes out directly in front of CHARACTER T1 that had just spent twenty minutes in line for a cup of water. The cup of water is spilled on top of CHARACTER S1.

NAOMI WASHINGTON & CHARACTER V1 become instant buddies when they chant to the sound of “SHOTS” around the crowd. IRINA KOSHKIN takes this literally and pulls out their gun ready to fire. 

CHARACTER X1, CHARACTER Y1, CHARACTER Z1 all show up to the venue wearing the same exact outfit. You have declared them your number 1 enemy for the entirety of the music festival. 

CHARACTER A2 is high as fuck and thinks they’re making a flower crown for CHARACTER B2…..except it’s a crown of shrooms instead. CHARACTER B2 wears the crown, but has to swat CHARACTER C2 away who keeps trying to eat them. 

CHARACTER D2, CHARACTER E2, CHARACTER F2 suffer from dehydration. They try to find help at the med tent, but they can’t find where it is. 

ROSA LEON gets handsy with the bartender at the open bar and leads them away for a quick fuck, allowing RYAN HAYES and CHARACTER I2 to raid the bar freely.

 CHARACTER J2 is the aforementioned bartender and realizes a moment too late their station is being cleared out. Instead of returning to their position, they throw on some neon bracelets and join the party.

 CHARACTER K2 is doing some sick backflips in the middle of the crowd and are called out by the currently performing act mid-set for drawing attention away from the stage. CHARACTER K2 does another backflip to retaliate, but accidentally kicks CHARACTER L2 in the face.

JESSE VALENCIA hijacks a ELECTRIC BLUE STRATOCASTER from the backstage, and they are not caught. 

DAVUT DEMIR feels like they’re being watched and finds a silhouette with a rifle narrowed in on them perched upon a nearby building. They quickly retreat to find OPHELIA O’SHEA and P2 and warn them about the occurrence, who realize there are multiple snipers surrounding the pavilion. 

CHARACTER Q2 swears they heard a sound of explosions over the music, being in front nearest to the stage. They grab the microphone and scream, “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE.” CHARACTER R2 & CHARACTER S2 start to openly panic. 

CHARACTER T2 (O’Shea) gets into a physical altercation with CHARACTER U2 (Vasile). They don’t stop until one or the other is knocked unconscious. 

ANDREA REED & BIRDIE MENDOZA try to leave the event, but notice that they’re trapped in the auditorium. CHARACTER X2 makes it to their vehicle, but is stuck in place by the surrounding vehicles around them. Unable to escape fully, they return back to the venue. 

CHARACTER Y2 hates their life at this music venue, because they’re stuck behind a rather sweaty individual. Their sweat keeps hitting them in the face, and at one point, they catch it in their mouth. It incites a ferocious bout of vomiting, and CHARACTER Z2 is trying to help, thinking they’ve been drugged, but CHARACTER Y2 can’t even explain what it is that made them sick.

 TATIANA BLANTER is hit with a spare bullet, but no one is able to find where the source is. As no one around seems to have their gun out. CHARACTER B3 conceals their weapon perfectly. 

 NOVA DEVERAUX suffers a panic attack due to the crowd gathered, and clings onto CLARA DAVILLA who is unable to get them to the med tent.

 CHARACTER E3 feels something warm splash on their face. They are unsure if it’s warm beer or urine. They’re pretty sure it’s warm beer, but remain conflicted the rest of the festival. CHARACTER F3 offers the shirt off their back for CHARACTER E3 to wipe the liquid off their face. 

 CHARACTER G3 is doing photography for the event, but realizes midway through the show that the performers aren’t who they say they are. They spot a face they know to be Faust affiliated in the crowd and scurry off toward the exit, only to be stopped by CHARACTER H3 (Faust) at the door.

MILES ST CLARE is the first to notice the lack of Fausts at the start of the music venue. They make their way to the police station in hopes of figuring it out, but instead they encounter burning police cars and chaos.

[novemberpest]

many ways to give in - prologue

summary:  All she wanted to do was take a road trip, drop her car off at her brother's place and then get back home. She really, really didn't need Sebastian to come along for the ride. For some reason he was there anyway.

pairing: Sebastian Stan/Original Female Character

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none

a/n: look, I don’t know what I’m doing. does anyone? Sebastian is just too pretty. that’s the only reason I can give for this.

this will have about 8 or 9 chapters, i haven’t fully decided yet. this will be 18+, expect smut soon-ish. warnings will be updated for each chapter. this isn’t beta read.

please let me know what you think, I need validation.

(you can also read this on AO3)

The apartment was so packed, you could barely make out the walls. People of all ages were mingling and drinking, some of them deep in conversation, others shrieking over the droning music. It was much too warm, despite the unusually cold September weather. New York City was celebrating one of their greatest and it seemed like everyone came to get a piece of her.

 Dante fell deep into the cushions of the couch, barely keeping her glass of champagne from spilling. She enjoyed these kinds of get-togethers — they were far from her busy day-to-day life and there was just something about being a nameless face in a big crowd that appealed to her. Or maybe it was the opportunity to meet interesting people; because, really, if you’d meet them anywhere it was at one of Holly’s parties. As the owner of various high-end bars throughout the city she had connections to all kinds of people, and she’d never been stingy when it came to handing out invites. A true social butterfly — although Dante wouldn’t ever compare herself to her best friend, she still liked taking up that mantle every now and then.

 Holly’s flavor of the day was cute, there was no denying it. Jessica sat on Holly’s lap, a hand knotted into the thick hair at the nape of her neck and giggled like a five-year-old at a children’s birthday party. Which admittedly wasn’t too far from reality, seeing as this was a birthday party — Holly’s 36th to be precise — and despite not looking like she was five, there was also no way Jessica was actually 26. 

 Dante loved her best friend dearly, but her taste in women had always been questionable.

 “So Dante is a boy’s name right? Why do you have a boy’s name?” An obnoxious giggle spilled over Jessica's lips. “You don’t look like a boy.” 

 Dante took a long drink from her champagne flute, wondering how soon the alcohol would set in. She tried to focus on the projector someone had set up on the far wall. It was currently showing some artsy black-and-white film she didn’t recognize — not that she’d recognize many films. “My father was really into racehorses, but too fucking poor to afford one. Naming his children after them was as close as he could get, I suppose”, she explained in a deadpan voice. “My brother’s name is Secretariat.” 

 Holly’s girlfriend stared at her with glassy eyes, and Dante was sure, if her head had been see-through, she would’ve been able to see the new information slowly trickle through the lump of tissue she called her brain. Then, finally, she laughed. “You’re funny!”

 Dante threw Holly a long look. She, however, only gave an apologetic shrug and pressed a kiss to the temple of the woman in her lap. “Bunny, why don’t you go and get us another bottle of wine? You know, the white with the pretty label?”

 Jessica jumped up with all the motivation of a kindergarten child told to go get their drawing pencils. Dante genuinely hoped she would take a while.

 “Look, before you say anything-”

 “You cannot be serious.”

 “You say that, but honestly, she’s not as bad as it seems, you just need to get to know her.”

 “Please, don’t make me get to know her.”

 At this, Holly threw a crumpled up tissue at Dante’s face. “Shut up, we can’t all be celibate loners like you.”

 Dante only snorted into her drink, but didn’t reply. Her eyes wandered through the room, mentally listing all the birthday guests she recognized. When her eyes found a familiar head of tousled brown hair near the front door she paused for a second. 

 “Or whatever it is the kids call it nowadays when they’re in love with someone for years but are too afraid to, you know, just go for it”, Holly added with a knowing glint in her eyes.

 “Shut up.” Dante was really, really not in the mood to talk about him today. Which was funny, because Holly’s birthday party was the only time she ever saw him. A week ago she’d been so sure she’d be able to deal with him but now she just wanted to hide behind the sofa.

 “I’m just saying, as far as I know he doesn’t have a girlfriend right now. And he’ll actually be in the city for a while.”

 “Holly, please, we’ve been over this. Last year was a fucking disaster, and I don’t want to get back to this, like, at all.” Dante swallowed hard. “Besides, I doubt he’d be interested. Sebastian was the one who-”

 She stopped.

 Who did what? What even did he do? One year later, Dante still wasn’t sure why she was actually mad at him.

 “I know”, Holly supplied quietly. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

 Dante nodded, her expression carefully blank. She watched him get pulled into a hug and out of her immediate line of sight. A new group of people had arrived and were slowly pushing their way into the apartment, carrying various bottles of liquor. The music was just bassy and loud enough to effectively drown out most conversations from where they were sitting on the couch, and the champagne bubbling in her stomach actually made her calm down a little. Maybe she’d get through this evening — maybe even more successfully than the other five birthdays she’d celebrated with Holly in this place.

 Her eyes didn’t stray from the front door for long, even when Jessica arrived back with a bottle of red wine clutched in her hands.

 /////

 “So when are you going to Seattle?”

 Dante had emptied the bottle of champagne and was now on her second glass of white wine. Her head was pleasantly fuzzy — that was the only way she could explain to herself why she didn’t run away as soon as Sebastian and Rebecca sat down opposite of her. 

 She shrugged her shoulders, trying to formulate an answer to Rebecca’s question, while blatantly ignoring how his eyes suddenly snapped up from his beer to focus on her. “I’m not sure yet, I’ve got to drop the car off by the end of the month. I was thinking of making it an actual road trip to get away from the city for a little while.” Her eyes flashed to his for only a second but that was enough to shoot fire through her veins. She really hoped her face was already flushed from the alcohol she’d had.

 “You’re going to Seattle?”, shrieked Holly as she reappeared with a noticeably flustered Jessica by her side. She dropped down on the armrest next to Sebastian and slung an arm over his shoulders. “So is my man Sebastian.”

 There was a definite challenge in her eyes. Dante tried her hardest to ignore it. 

 “You are?”, asked Rebecca, the brunette blissfully unaware of the mounting tension between them.

 Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yeah, actually. One of my friends is getting married in two weeks.”

 “In two weeks?” Holly’s grin widened as Dante whispered an inaudible but heartfelt No. “That’s perfect timing! The two of you should just travel together. That’s better for the environment, right?”

 Holly — flying all across the country five times a week, can’t spell recycling to save her life, owning a wardrobe big enough for five families — was on top of her bullshit game tonight. 

 Sebastian’s eyes met her own and Dante could have sworn her heart stopped for a second. She saw him consider the possibility — but fuck her, if she knew what to expect from him. She didn’t understand him on the best of her days.

 “I was planning to go with Ben and Muriel”, he replied in an even tone. Relief and, Dante was afraid to admit, a bit of disappointment flooded her veins as she took a long sip from her wine. “But they had to cancel because Muriel apparently can’t get off work.” 

 She was already choking on her wine before his words fully registered. When her coughing abated, she almost hissed at him. “Why don’t you book a flight?”

 “They’re all fully booked.” His reply came fast, sharp and unexpectedly smug.

 Dante didn’t have an answer to that. She could only stare at him as she tried to understand what is happening. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief and the side of his mouth lifted just so nearly drove her insane. He knew exactly what he was doing.

 “You can’t refuse him, Dee!”, Holly cried from the side in a way that made Dante want to punch her in the face. As if she actually believed his bullshit.

 But Holly was right. 

 She couldn’t refuse him.

 So without another word Dante got up and left the room.

 /////

 It was well past four when Dante decided to call it a night. She hadn’t seen much more of Holly after she’d tried to force Sebastian on her, but Dante wasn’t disappointed. Holly was a social animal through and through, always moving from one person to another to talk as much as she could. Holly was also really fucking drunk and Dante much preferred her best friend sober.

 Dante had spent the night carefully avoiding Sebastian, which wasn’t too hard considering the huge apartment and the sheer mass of friends that Holly had invited. It seemed like he wasn’t looking for her either, which suited her just fine. It was fine.

 Carding through the pile of coats and jackets in Holly’s guest room was a fucking pain. Dante almost moaned with delight, when she finally felt the soft material of her coat under her fingers. She swayed a little in her heels when she pulled it free and turned to leave, trying her hardest not to think of him and how she’d touched him in this room before, or how he looked at her earlier and- 

 The music was still too loud and despite the hour it didn’t seem any less crowded. Dante pushed her way through the front door, almost stumbled when she reached the stairs, but some other guest, a man with a bright grin and even brighter blue hair, quickly grabbed her wrist to steady her. She thanked him with a tight smile, so relieved to finally be on her way home that she didn’t much care about her clumsiness. Carefully she maneuvered past more people hanging out on the stairs, apparently just as content a little further away from the party’s epicenter. Dante could hardly blame them.

 When she finally stepped outside the crisp night air let Dante breathe a little easier. 

 It also made her realize that she was really fucking drunk.

 She took an embarrassingly long time to push her arms through her sleeves — her coat was somehow upside down twice — and searched through her pockets for some cigarettes. It wasn’t a habit she indulged in often, but she felt like she deserved one after getting out of this party alright.

 It had to be her tired mind or her one-sided focus that kept her from noticing the door falling shut behind her a second time. But when she couldn’t find her lighter in either of her pockets, a cigarette already stuck between her lips, a hand appeared in front of her face, a lighter clutched between its fingers. 

 Cold dread washed over her like a tidal wave.

 She raised her eyes from his hand up his shoulders to finally settle on his face. Dante cursed her luck. She’d almost made it.

 “What, are you gonna take it?” The low timbre of his voice cut through the night like a hot knife through butter. When she looked up at him Sebastian was smiling, teasing in that soft way that only he could.

 He clicked his thumb and a little flame popped out of the lighter. 

 Dante looked at it for a second, then plucked the cigarette from between her lips. “I’m not your bitch.”

 She took the lighter from his fingers, trying to ignore their warmth, the feel of them, and lit her cigarette up herself.

 “Never said you were.” The smile was still there, but his gaze seemed a little less playful.

 “That’s what this is though”, she mumbled, blowing out a cloud of smoke, “when men light up their girl’s cigarettes. It makes them their bitch.”

 She met his eyes in a sort of challenge, not even knowing what reaction she was trying to provoke. 

 He huffed out a laugh, looking over her shoulder for a second, before focusing back on her. “You’re not my bitch. Never intended for you to be that.”

 His answer made her deflate. She handed him back his lighter and stuffed one of her hands into her pockets, dropping her gaze to her shoes. “What do you want, Sebastian?”

 “How are you doing? I haven’t really seen you all night”, he asked instead, ignoring her question. 

 Dante let out a long breath, looking down the street — barely seeing anything with how fast her mind was spinning. She’d actually thought she could break their streak, huh?

 “This is the sixth year”, she simply said. When she faced him again, she hoped her expression was as detached as she felt at that moment — numb, even.

 But the way he looked at her wasn’t at all what she expected. His gaze dropped down to her heels — she was almost at eye-level with him now — and carefully travelled up her whole body, mustering her, filing away how the past twelve months had changed her. “You look great.”

 The cold night had nothing on the heat that exploded in her belly. Dante had seen that gaze before, knew its implications with every fiber of her being. But she couldn’t do it, not again, not this time. She’d burnt her fingers on this candle often enough and she’d finally learned to move on.

 She told him as much. “I can’t do this. Not again.”

 They were silent for a while. Dante had finished her cigarette by the time he spoke again.

 “I wasn’t playing around earlier, you know. I’d like it, if you let me tag along to Seattle. Would be great to get a bit of fresh air.” 

 Dante didn’t ask the questions that were rolling around in her mouth. 

 Am I your bit of fresh air? 

 What happens after you’ve gotten your fill? 

 Will I see you next year for Holly’s birthday again?

 She didn’t understand what she saw when she looked at him, like the information reaching her brain was jumbled, not translating correctly. His face seemed rougher and softer at the same time; older, somehow, although it had only been a year. His eyes were always the same though, cutting through her much easier than she felt comfortable with. Sebastian made her feel all hot and all cold, and it was just too much for her right then.

 Dante rubbed a hand over her eyes, squeezed them shut in hopes of drowning out the pounding of her heart and the fuzziness inside her brain. She’d always been so bad at saying no. 

 “Look, you still have my number, right?”, she didn’t give him time to reply, because maybe he didn’t and then she wouldn’t hear from him again and then everything would be fine and good, and perfect, really, “Call me in the next couple days. I’m not deciding on this right now.”

 His expression was boyishly hopeful when she looked at him again. “I’ll do that.” Sebastian reached for her but stopped himself quickly enough. “Thank you.”

 Dante nodded, allowed herself to look at him a little longer — but turned to leave before her thoughts could turn silly again. She was ten steps away when he called her name again.

 “Dante!”, and his smile was so lovely and warm, she almost went back and — “Have a good night.”

 And she gave a little wave, smiled too, hoped it didn’t look as lost as she felt, but —

 There was something hot and tight coiled in her stomach and she really, really wished she had come up with some excuse for tonight. 

 She had learned her lesson with him, right?

 When she arrived home, she decided. For once in her life she would tell someone no, she would take this trip on her own because she’d been looking forward to it for a while now. 

 And Sebastian — she’d moved on. He was a grown man, he would find a way to get to Seattle without her.

 This would work out absolutely fine, she knew.

 Except when she closed her eyes, she saw his face, his smile; felt the ghost of his fingers on hers and — suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD 10x05: What It Always Is - Details

Okay, how did everyone like the episode? Let’s dive in.

***As always, spoilers abound below for episode 10x05. Don’t read until you’ve watched!!!***

Opening sequence:

This was the part with Kelly. There were quite a few Beth symbols here. It starts out with her hearing lots of birds chirping. 

There’s the dragonfly (think The Deer and the Bug Theory), the banner which had red, blue, green, and yellow on it, 

and of course the yellow and black pig, which she kills. 

The pigs pretty much always die. It’s also kind of a callback to 4x01 when Clara (Creepy Walker Chick) wanted to eat the dead pig Rick found in the woods.

I started thinking about the pigs and trying to define them, much as I did the bus. Here’s what I came up with. In 4a, Rick literally kills the piglets to lead the walkers away from the walls, so they can fix the fences and keep the people at the prison safe. So I think the pigs represent a “sacrifice” to keep the living safe. And it often involves a walker horde. You could say the same of the pigs in S7. Ezekiel was giving them to Negan so Negan wouldn’t attack the Kingdom. So by fulfilling the deal, he was sacrificing the pigs to keep the Kingdom safe. Here, Kelly allowed the walkers to have the pig to save herself. Just some thoughts I had on the pig theme.

When Kelly falls down, sitting by the rock, it reminded me of the dead guy Daryl saw by the deer in Them. She’s just sitting exactly the same way.

Here’s the thing about Kelly in this sequence. I felt like she was a representation of Beth, but it was hard for me, at first, to put my finger on why. As always, hashing things out with my fellow theorists helped. The best we can say right now is that she was, for a short time, a missing girl. And eventually, she was found. It even focused on her forehead injury. (Opposite side as Beth’s, but still.)

Even more interesting, she was found by her sister and, um…Daryl. Well, if Kelly = Beth, Beth’s sister and Beth’s Daryl are alive and well in this world, aren’t they? Just saying. There are more symbols that play into this (such as the colored flags we saw) but I’ll talk about them in more detail later in the week.

Negan and Brandon:

I definitely saw some Bethyl callbacks around Negan this episode. When they’re near the barbed wire—which apparently marks some of the Whisperers’ boundaries—a walker attacks him. He manages to kill it, but only after quite a fight. Brandon doesn’t lift a finger to help him. Once Negan puts the walker down, he says, “Thanks for the help.” That’s exactly what Beth said to Daryl in the golf club in Still. He also fights like both Beth and Daryl did, by using his heel to smash the walker’s face.

When Brandon gives him his coat and “new Lucille,” he asks if Negan likes them. Negan answers, “does pig shit stink?” So, another pig reference.

At one point, Brandon and Negan are rating walkers for “hotness,” which was kind of funny. But the numbers they mentioned were important. Brandon said one was a 7. Negan then says she’s clearly a 3. I was happy to hear both those numbers. Just recently, Emily posted the tarot card with the 7 stars on it, and of course there’s the rule of threes.

Amelia said she and Milo used to have a camp, but it got scattered and now it was just her and her son. That’s actually a lot like what happened in S4 with the prison. And when Brandon wants to follow Amelia and take her stuff, Negan says, “It’s best I go on alone and you go home.” That stood out to me because it has “Alone” and also the “home” theme in it.

Brandon also says, “I get it.”

Later when Negan talks to Milo, the kid is playing with an airplane. That’s super-significant. It’s been a much bigger symbol on FTWD than TWD, but I immediately thought of the plane crash on this past season of FTWD. 

I said that I thought the plane crash represented some major disaster, and maybe was even symbolic of Beth getting shot. Here, Milo is playing with the plane and Negan even says, “oh no, we’re gonna crash.” So, I think this could have foreshadowed Milo’s death later in the episode. Which would just back up my theory about what it meant in FTWD.

Negan planned to take Milo and Amelia to Hilltop, but of course Brandon killed them. So, Negan killed him with a rock. (Ew. Seriously gnarly. *shudders*) Which, again, I think represents Negan killing his former self or his former way of life. This is him rejecting that and choosing a different path.

And then Negan goes to seek out the Whisperers. Which is pretty much what happens in the CBs. But I am glad to see this happening because I still think we’re right on track for what they’ve foreshadowed and this chain of events, no matter how long it goes, will lead to running into Beth.

When he crosses the barbed wire border, he’s wearing his Negan coat and carrying Lucille. He also calls himself the Big Bad Wolf again and says his “little pig, little pig” line. So he seems to be his old, Negan self, but I think it’s all an act to get the Whisperers to trust him. I also can’t help but wonder about that “little pig” reference. Yes, I know it’s something Negan says in the CBs, so it’s not specific to the show. But we’ve looked at it as part of the pig symbolism since Negan first appeared, which was one reason—of many—we thought Beth might show up with him. She obviously didn’t, but now this symbolism is back and I think this sequence will lead to her. Kind of interesting.

Alpha and Gamma:

I don’t have a lot to add here to what I already said yesterday. One thing I did notice was Alpha’s line to the male whisperer who was skinning the face off the walker. She said ears were the trickiest part. I’m not going to explain why that’s significant right now, as I’ll do a post about it later in the week. But just remember it for now. Also, there was a big emphasis on Kelly’s hearing loss in this episode, so it was kind of a theme.

Also, they said on TTD that the walker they were skinning in this scene was one Kelly killed in the opening sequence. That’s interesting to me. Not only did they make sure we caught it via TTD (I for one wouldn’t have otherwise) but think about that. If Kelly was a proxy for Beth, a walker she fought with ended up with the Whisperers. I just feel like it’s another hint at the tie between Beth’s arc and the Whisperers.

In terms of Aaron, I wanted to add that I’m seeing a callback to Them. When Gamma hurts her hand, he shows up with supplies to help her and introduces himself. That’s what he did in Them when TF was in need of water and a home. And of course, that’s when the music box woke up.

Ezekiel:

One thing I forgot to discuss yesterday is, assuming Zeke survives his cancer—which I think he will—how much of a parallel this is to Beth. Obviously, it’s cancer rather than being shot in the head, but the situation is similar. How often do non-believers tell us that because it’s the apocalypse, Grady wouldn’t be able to save her from her wound? Even being near a hospital, they still don’t have the resources they used to have and so won’t be able to save her. This is kind of similar. It’s something that would have been fine in the old world, but given how little they have in the way of medical treatment, they SHOULDN’T be able to save him. Especially if he goes to Grady or somewhere a lot like it for treatment, that will be a huge parallel.

At one point, Siddiq said that Zeke’s lump looked bad. Zeke answered, “No. It’s just the slings and arrows.” That’s a line from Hamlet’s famous “to be or not to be” speech. He talks about the “slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune.” I’m reading this about three different ways.

1.       Hamlet’s speech, at its core, is about suicide, and why the majority of people are too cowardly to commit suicide. And while A) that may be in line with Zeke contemplating suicide last episode, it also B) ties him more heavily to Beth and realizing that, overall, he wants to live.

2.       Everyone who dies at the end of Hamlet dies because of poison. So, I think this links Zeke to the poison (and possibly by extension, the radiation) arc.

3.       There’s the “outrageous misfortune” line. In terms of the tarot cards, that wheel we keep seeing is the Wheel of Fortune. It represents life cycles, good and bad fortune, and fate. I might do more detail on this at a later point, but I think for Zeke, this foreshadows his death fake out. His happiness with Carol is over for the time being. And unfortunately, things are about to get worse for him. He’s about to have “outrageous misfortune.”

Near the end, he almost tells Carol over the radio, but doesn’t. Probably a mistake. Maybe to foreshadow that they don’t speak again (or say goodbye) before everything goes really bad?

During this part, Siddiq talks to Dante on the radio. We learn that Rosita is sick. Not sure what’s up with that, but they went out of their way to tell us that. 

Also, apparently Gabriel isn’t at Alexandria. He left for some unknown reason and hasn’t returned. Thanks to @wdway​ for catching that. Why is it important?

Because Gabriel is the embodiment of the Sirius symbolism. And right now, they’re literally waiting for him to return.

Then Siddiq says, “I’m still here.” (Beth line.) And Dante has an interesting line where he says, “The universe is on pause until God returns.” He’s saying that not much is going on there medically and he’s referring to Siddiq as “god.” But it’s still an interesting line about God returning, no?

Connie, Magna, and Daryl:

Of course there’s the fact that they’re looking for the missing girl with all the Beth symbolism around her. Lt’s talk about Daryl’s story about Merle. Obviously it’s a callback to Still, where he talked to Beth about Merle and told a story about him. Beer is mentioned. And it all takes place on a lake. So, a body of water. Also, when he did the motion to tell how he’d hauled Merle alone, he put her arm around his neck. It looked exactly like the way he helped Beth in Alone, after she hurt her ankle.

I don’t have a whole lot more detail than that, other than what I’ve already said. Daryl does say, “I get it,” in that final scene when he’s talking to Connie.

I did notice one other random theme, here. It was a magic theme, of all things. First, Ezekiel, talking about the old world, said it had been a time of sorcery and witchcraft. (In other words, they could do awesome things to fight cancer.) Later, when Negan was talking to Milo, he used the term “voodoo magic” to describe flying. I just thought it was a weird theme. No idea what it means.

Emily’s song:

So I wrote yesterday’s post long before TTD aired, and I totally didn’t catch that they used Emily’s song in the show. By then, I didn’t want to add it to my post. But it’s AWESOME!

So there’s what @angelthefirst1​ said: in 5x10 the music box awoke, an din 10x5, Emily’s song was used. Coincidence? No. Really not, my friends. Plus, just a few days before this episode aired, Emily shared some Bethyl artwork in her story. And a few days before that, she posted the tarot card picture. Yeah, I feel like she’s super close.

I have more to say about the song and how I’m interpreting the symbols in it, but that will be a post all its own later in the week. Overall, I think this is an awesome win for us. It’s music, it’s happening in this episode. It’s played over the scene when Yumiko mentions to Magna that the supplies are missing. That became part of Daryl and Connie’s arc when they were searching for a lost girl. I don’t think any of that is a coincidence, y’all. And I’m super excited to see it.

Also, Magna is reading a book called The Promised Land in this scene. I need to look into it more, as there are many books with that title. Most of them are about Israel or things related to the Old Testament. Given all the Moses symbolism around Beth, that’s not a coincidence either. One in particular was about the Exodus. So I’m wondering if that is a foreshadow about something to do with Magna or, better yet, something to do with Beth. 😉

Thoughts?

[spectrehqs]

congratulations ! welcome to spectrehqs ashcroft university. under the cut is a list of acceptances for all skeletons. thank you so much for applying & i’m so excited to start writing with you. please take a look at our checklist and send your account within the next twenty-four hours.

ANTONY: liam d’antona written by jason. 

in a sea of applications, there’s something special about one that really sucks you in the way yours did, i really got whisked away. starting with the end and beginning a mystery that would have me hooked for the entirety of your app. lush with detail, i would sometimes forget about the sheer mystery of liam’s acceptance at ashcroft until you drew me back to it. in the midst of laying the seeds of his secret, you painted a picture of a character colorful, interesting and romantic, rife with nods to classic literature and film. even the side characters of the story, his grandparents and father, felt real and alive. i literally wrote myself this note halfway through – “i’m completely on the edge of my seat about why he doesn’t want to get in? it’s killing me.” and then by the end, “I’M SCREAMING.” a natural progression, of course. i loved the juxtaposition of both sides of the page in his letters – his drunk letter vs. his sober letter, and his voice was so endearing and real that by the end of your application, i felt like i knew liam but i also knew TOO much because it was so vulnerable. this application was like diving into a great book and i can’t wait to read more of your writing. 

BRUTUS: christopher ‘kit’ stanley written by hayley. 

i was immediately struck by the juxtaposition you presented – the romanticism of kit’s name, home, and family, contrasted with their line of work and attitude. honestly, your sentence structure in that first paragraph really hit me hard and it set a great precedent for the rest of kit’s story. my jaw literally dropped when i read PENSHURST PLACE but i’m so glad you really went there with this character, going all the way to the top with the opulence and hitting home when it comes to what both ashcroft and the imperium society is all about. if you were worried about writing a controversial character, then stop, because kit exemplifies that in a way that is both relatable and painful. the way you wrote his introduction to lysander PAINED me because when i reached that point in the story, it was so satisfying to see such a lonely boy find such a heartwarming friendship, and it quickly becomes obvious how loyal lysander is to kit, how much he cares for him. the cherry on top is kit’s resentment toward octavia and how his relationship splintered with lysander as a result – leading to our ultimate climax. then when you casually dropped that big fucking secret in so casually at the end...the comment i wrote for myself? “GASP.” because damn, what else can i say? you’re on fire. i can’t wait to see how that unfolds. it’s a bad time to make enemies.

CLEOPATRA: iskra gill written by lara. 

this was not the cleopatra i expected at all – in a good way. iskra would like to be unexpected anyway, i think, she’s that kind of girl. her relationship with her family intrigues me most because it is not one of loyalty, and the way she watches her brother crash and burn ( no pun intended ) after being overlooked for her whole life is a moment that i found myself cheering for as the reader ? iskra is a character that worked herself up from the top to the bottom and then back up to the top again, and has lived several lifetimes for someone so young. her secret at first did not strike me as unique – several apps across the board expressed a secret, harbored love for the elusive octavia, but yours was the one i chose because of that realness, that raw understanding that comes with an unrequited love, and how that transitioned into her affair with titus. i also adored your ‘list’ of secrets, which really served to humanize her in so many ways, and the bachelor in paradise detail ? i was laughing through tears. her last fucking text, and all of the final text messages you wrote. words cannot express. if i wasn’t sold already, your fucking LETTER DRAFTS, all of them, heartbreaking and lovely, i felt like i gained a real and full understanding for iskra’s relationship with octavia and how utterly isolated she must feel now. i can’t wait to see every single one of these elements in play on the dash !

CORDELIA: norah bardot written by nica. 

interestingly enough, norah is a character that not only exemplifies the skeleton, but also shakespeare’s interpretation of cordelia: this soft innocence, good-hearted nature that comes with cordelia, but also a realness. compared to every other character, norah is different because her story is not rife with hatred, anger, or the tragedy of a broken home. norah’s is full of love and compassion – and all the ways that isn’t enough. the tiny details, like the soup kitchen and the way you described her mother’s comments, really made me feel the difference in relationship cordelia has with each parent. this line really sticks with me – “you wouldn’t know rebellion, you couldn’t afford to. naive innocence brushed across your forehead, branding you different.” i can’t think of better words and i won’t try. i am scared to accept a character like norah, of course, her gentle kindness and trusting nature are things that are about to get her eaten alive, but isn’t that the fun of it? you also captured her sheer genius as well, which the juxtaposition of that genius and also that naivety is *chefs kiss* – you get her and your interpretation was so well articulated. i am so fucking excited to write with you and read more of what you come up with.  

HAMLET: thalia lukas written by brooke. 

i can feel thalia’s rage and perhaps that runs in the family; rage for her father for how he treated them; rage for her mother for how she left; rage for society for what they did to her brother. thalia doesn’t come across any of her good qualities on her own, they come from lysander, which i found interesting, and i loved how you characterized her as this hopelessly ambitious person to the point of greed and dishonesty. i think you’ve created this sort of desperation in her that’s as strong and dangerous as any sort of violence and that’s what intrigued me at the start: where is this going? what disaster is thalia going to incur next? i also am so deeply drawn to and excited by thalia’s DISLIKE of octavia because ‘if octavia was a beautiful, blossomed rose, thalia was a thorny shrub.’ – all of her actions leading up to the disaster seem to justify all of thalia’s reactions afterward as well, and what we’re left with is a strong, passionate, disorderly mess that so exemplifies thalia, and every way you describe seems to just scream the outsider-ness that i was looking for and i love that she just doesn’t give a FUCK about octavia’s piece of mind – she’s looking for her own. i literally can’t wait to watch her clash with the rest of the muses we have on board here.

LADY MACBETH: valentine vega written by kiwi. 

i won’t get into how hard of a decision this was, you already know. what i will get into is how hard it was to read this application, it was dark and gritty and just the right amount of unsettling. and upsetting. certain aspects of it were so hard to read that i did have to take a break ( i think you can guess exactly where ), but when it comes down to it, valentine fits into this plot seamlessly, and while you can’t blame her for her past, you can blame her for the present; and it really made me think about the fact that her crime was not just what she did to octavia, but what she did to lysander ( which is actually worse than what she did to octavia in val’s story, in my opinion. ) i love an app that can give me a new perspective on my own fucking plot. i remember getting to the second half of your application and a LIGHTBULB dawning over my head when i realized the connection between the first half of her story and the second half, and i would have to agree with you that octavia certainly did not know the entirety of the situation at hand. but using one murder to cover up another...the skeletons are stacking up, and i love how you took the initiative to explain the blackmail in a way that also involves val – it’s nearly impossible not to sympathize with her when you look at it solely from her side. i love how perfectly composed she seems now and the juxtaposition between both contrasting letters you wrote, the one that seems proper and poised and the other that seems completely unhinged, which i sense is the direction you’re going. i am excited to watch such a poised character fall from grace, but i will feel for her at the same time – which is precisely why this works. 

MACBETH: dante campana written by pepper. 

i was hooked from this line: at first, he did. your characterization for macbeth was just so unexpected because to begin with, dante is such a bright person with such a big heart! he is the warm one in a family of cold hearts! i wrote this comment halfway through reading, at the part where he unintentionally starts a nonprofit: “i'm halfway through wondering how tf dante killed anybody? doesn’t make sense.” and yet, you made it make sense. through his relationship with his sister – and the jaw-dropping, horrific event that culminated in her loss, we learn so much about dante and see a changed person. i’ve been thinking a lot about the line where he learns from his family, “if you wanted love, you had to earn it,” and i think that already sets up a lot for his motivations later in his life story, when he commits such an atrocious act. and i think that’s the pull of dante; he doesn’t seem like a killer. not to me, not to anyone. all the police would have to do is GOOGLE him in order to write him off as being completely incapable. he’s a hero, and yet...the progression into villain is tragic, shocking, and morally ambiguous, just the way we like it. there are so many things about him that make him ‘good,’ but yet can we really call him that? i don’t think so, no, and i love this play on the grey areas, and the ways we don’t see the killer under our own noses because of the way they are perceived. thank you so much for crafting such an intriguing, interesting backstory, and i can’t wait to see how dante reacts under all of this new pressure. i trust you will write it beautifully.

OPHELIA: theresa rigby written by nora. 

my first comment: “u knew exactly what you were doing with this beautifully crafted symbolism, huh?” BUT I LOVED IT, the water baby symbolism was just the homage to ophelia i didn’t know i needed. i got strong sharp objects vibes throughout your application, and it’s hard not to associate theresa with death, but she owns it so completely and i can’t stop thinking about the image of her scribbling frantically in the pages of a diary. there’s something slightly unhinged about everything she does, but it’s hard to blame her – you can see every reason behind her actions in the layers of her upbringing. not to mention that you have such a gift for writing metaphors and comparisons that really bring the concepts you have in mind to life ! the cheesegrater one literally made me gasp, i could relate so deeply, and your entire app is filled with small nuggets of purely good writing just like that. such a treat to read. i also had to laugh at lady macbeth being her favorite shakespeare heroine, the way that’s what resonates with theresa and why, and the way that theresa lives her life is so HUMAN to me, and she completely endeared herself when she clumsily tried to quote Ginsberg bidding her friends goodbye. she’s ethereal, dreamlike, but theresa is also real, and that’s what i loved about your application so much. i was so excited by this application and i am even more excited to see more of theresa, because i know she’ll make me laugh, cry, and everything in between. 

OTHELLO: christian bösch written by em. 

it was the long haul to get an application for this skeleton but so, so worth it. i’m obsessed with your take, from how his history with his sister seamlessly transitions into his relationship with lady macbeth, how you’ve entwined christian so deeply in the octavia/lysander drama on his own, adding layers to his motivation for caving to lady macbeth’s whims. christian himself has many layers, and i wrote on your app, “i have no decision to make here. why do i keep reading this app again and again?” because it was just so fucking good, one of those things you read where you forget about everything else cause you’re lost in it for a moment. also, insanely impressed at the ways you dove into connection ideas with every skeleton, drawing similarities and differences between them and it meant a lot to me how much you clearly went through all the details. also, i loved the little bits of dialogue sprinkled throughout the background, i felt like i got a great sense of christian’s voice long before i reached the letter, and by the end you really empathize with his struggle. you can understand WHY it was so easy for lady macbeth to manipulate him in so many ways, and i didn’t even start talking about max ––– there’s just so much good shit to unpack here, i love it, and i can’t wait to continue peeling back the layers. as you can expect, christian will be faced with some major choices soon. only development will see where that takes him. i’m excited.

ROMEO: william “wolfie” preston written by samantha. 

oh, wowie wow. a very hard choice, but you hit it so far out of the park it’s in another galaxy. reading wolfie’s story was like reading a beautiful tragedy, starting with his parents first words when he was born and on to every expectation they placed on him afterward. i feel like romeo was one of those skeletons that had the most laid out for it due to octavia, but you took every little detail, embellished, AND ran with it, which i loved. my favorite part of your app was actually where you wrote about wolfie seeing octavia’s ghost and the first things he said to her – you described their relationship already, but that dialogue back and forth really hit home for me and made me completely understand the weight of their relationship. and why wolfie is just so devastated by what happened that it’s completely changed him as a person. loss can really do that to you, huh? i also really appreciated the way you also incorporated oberon into the story, something i didn’t really see! the way he craves validation from the head of school/the society the same way he craves it from his parents was really hard-hitting and i loved being able to get some insight into that dynamic as well. your app was infused with so many little details and i felt like you also really brought octavia to life, with her names for statues and all. i also died a little at the scene you described at his football game, my heart SUNK for wolfie, because it’s hard to watch him try so hard again. and again. and again. the letter itself was beautiful as well and i appreciated your scene setting, which not only put his words into perspective, but did more to make wolfie seem more real. sure, he’s a golden boy, but he’s also a person, and i’m excited to watch how the events of this plot show all the cracks in his foundation. he’s changed and he’s changing and i’m excited for more.

TITUS: august reyn written by moosh. 

i could not accept a titus that didn’t break my heart. and august broke my heart more times than i can count now, pretty much with every single fucking bullet point. i love the little contradictions; how he hates rich kids but he is one, doesn’t yell during fights but does during debates...i think the thing about august is he is cocky, charming, and at times aggressive, but he also has this sort of interesting moral code that motivates how he treats people and acts on the field; how he SCREAMS at the ref but is patient with his teammates? iconic. i feel like i got more upset over his grandmother’s passing than i did about octavia’s, which says a lot, but don’t think it passed me by how the two people who have really cared for august are no longer around. the moment in his life where he really fights back at his bully and learns the power of WEALTH was so impactful to me, and i think it characterizes many of his actions, prior and post. also the batman comparison was on point, of course. the way his relationship with his dad develops is heartbreaking, but even more heartbreaking is the fact that he loses a support system when things are at their worst. essentially, my heart snaps for august again and again, and reading about his development post-death was raw and hard, like i was reading something i shouldn’t be. i just want august to get a fucking win but i already know i’m going to put him through the ringer, sos sorry in advance. also huge props for roping him into the scandal surrounding octavia’s death in that way, i can’t wait to incorporate that into the plot overall. 

[every-angel-is-terrifyingg-blog]

Beelzebub

Has the devil put aside for me?

When I was a teenager, I came across some kind of fringe radical Christian website that was all about how rock-n-roll is satanic (apparently I was a teenager in the ‘50s and we somehow had the internet). Curious, I clicked on their video for Queen because (I can admit this now) I didn’t know much about music and Queen was one of the few bands I recognized. I expected the video to be grossly homophobic, but no. Freddie Mercury’s sexuality never came up. They were instead fixated on that one lyric from Bohemian Rhapsody. Like, it was their whole argument on how Queen was a bunch of devil worshipers.

Anyway, I think about that website every time I see/hear Beelzebub, so this post is dedicated to you, half-remembered weird Christian website.

Again, I love the way demons are presented in Good Omens! Beelzebub has these nasty looking abrasions and you can just sense the corruption. Also, I absolutely adore their costume.  The sash and medal? Glorious.

So, enough preamble. Who is Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies?

So, similar to my Dagon post, we have another case of religious syncretism, meaning the blending of concepts and ideas from different cultures. The Abrahamic religions are littered with examples of syncretism. As the faiths spread across the West, gods and goddesses from other pantheons were incorporated as demons (and in a few cases, such as the Irish goddess Bridged, saints).

The story of Beelzebub begins with Ba’al, a popular god found in several ancient Middle Eastern belief systems. Ba’al, meaning lord, was the king of gods and had several different functions across different regions. Because of this, many of the traditional enemies of the Israelites worshiped Ba’al. The Hebrew Bible/Old Testament blames Ba’al worship for God’s anger, disasters, and general perversion. 

How did Ba’al’s name change to Beelzebub? If you want to really tear someone down, you give them a bad nickname. There’s some dispute, but it looks like Ba’al was sometimes called Baal-alzabul, or lord of a high place. His name was changed to Baal-alzabub, lord of the flies.

Seems like we have an ancient pun on our hands.

Beelzebub isn’t mentioned by that exact name until the Christian Bible/New Testament. However, it doesn’t make it clear who exactly Beelzebub is supposed to be in this context. Sometimes Beelzebub is an evil spirit, sometimes it’s just another name for Satan. Regardless, Beelzebub gains an association with demonic possession and exorcism, which makes him more of a threat than your average evil spirit.

Regardless of who Beelzebub is meant to be, he gains the title “the prince of devils” and this cements his place in the infernal hierarchy. It also explains why Good Omens has Beelzebub pretty much running the show down in Hell.

However, that doesn’t mean we are all in argument on Beelzebub.

For instance, in Dante’s Divine Comedy, Beelzebub is merely another name for Satan.

Paradise Lost places Beelzebub as Lucifer’s right-hand fallen angel (specifically a former cherub) who, shockingly, doubts that they can ever really triumph over God.

The apocryphal Gospel of Nicodemus makes things even murkier. After Jesus dies on the cross and before his resurrection, he travels into Hell to free Adam and Eve along with other Biblical figures who are trapped there. Satan doesn’t give him permission, but Beelzebub goes over Satan’s head and lets Jesus do it. As a thank you present, Jesus makes Beelzebub the leader of Hell. 

Yeah, I don’t get it either.

So there we have it. Beelzebub goes from king of the gods to the CEO of Hell. Quite a resume. Would love to check out that LinkedIn profile sometime.

Sources for this post can be found under the “My Resources” tab. Check out the “Who Am I” tab for more info on this blog and the author.

[sevi007]

So since Capcom have announced that they have interest to continue DMC saga what do you think it will be in future games / plots? or what would you like to see?

Oh, can I wish for something?! Then – Prequel  with Sparda and Eva, please!

Just kidding, I know they are probably never gonna dothat (and I might be one of few who even wants that).

But I don’t know for sure which content we are talkingabout here. I think Isaw discussions on twitter making it clear that there’s not gonna be any sortof DLCs for DMC5, so I’m going to rule that out. Assuming we are talking abouta sequel / new game taking place in the future, then I would say-

Plot: I’m pretty fine with everything there. MoreDMC-content (without my faves dying or some sort of horrible ending) is good content,I’m flexible story-wise. Maybe get the twins out of Hell, yeah. But keep Nero asthe main protagonist, probably, since he’s the hero now.

What wouldbe nice, well, maybe some sort of own nemesisor disaster to take care of for Nero. Because up until now, to be quite honest,our protagonists, aka Dante and Nero, always had to take care of “old familybusiness” or people trying to take Sparda’s power. A bit of a twist on thatwould be nice, with Nero being a new generation and everything. A villain canstill try take over the world or something, but this time, without being anemesis of Sparda / trying to steal his power. (Although Mundus getting kickedaround by Nero would also be very nice).

Aside from plot…. Well, a few things on that point:

* Let theladies have more screentime, cutscenes or gameplay, both would be okay if theyget to showoff that they are awesome. I’m talking Trish, Lady, Lucia, Patty,Nico, Kyrie… the whole group.

* If Nerois not gonna be the only one playable, let Dante and Vergil both be playable. Iadore Dante, but Vergil is fun in his own right.

* Maybe a “new”character, with new playstyle. V was a lot of fun to balance out the stylesDante and Nero have – something like that, a sorcerer or summoner again, thatwould be awesome.

* Let thecharacters interact with each other a bit more. I know DMC is mostly anaction-oriented game, but they have such interesting, unique characters. Manyof them would be very interesting to see how they interact with each other, orvery heartwarming (aka here is someone who hoped to see Nero and Kyrie or Dante and Patty together in DMC5, among otherexamples). Make a bit room – in cutscenes, or some dialogue while buying stufffrom Nico or something, maybe – to show howmuch these characters care for each other, what they think of each other,instead of having the fans mostly interpret and headcanon it.

* On that part - also, let the characters address some stuff. Now that Nero is in the know, let him know the drive behind the others’ actions. To address the twins’ past especially, that would help both them and Nero, it would explain a lot and clear the air for sure.  Lady’s past would explain why she know so well what killing a father feels like. Trish’s whole existence hinges very likely on Vergil’s memories of Eva, so let that be addressed. Let Dante explain to Nero what happened with Credo - let someone assure Nero that there was nothing he could have done to save Credo.

On one hand, yes, that is all in the past. But all of that is still weighing on the characters, influences their actions, influences how they treat others (a lot of things would have gone differently, for example, if they hadn’t kept Nero’s heritage from him, just for one), so let. Them. Talk. About. Things.

DMC5 did a bit more on that front, because they had to, because of Nero’s and Vergil’s connection, but I still think more is possible there.

* Don’trush the end quite like DMC5 did. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the game, lovedthe ending, but it felt as if… well. Mission 20 was reached – we always haveonly 20 Missions – so now we need to finish quickly. Really, felt a bit likethat. There’s no need for that, in my opinion. Same ending, but with more time,maybe a few heartwarming reunions (even in the credits is possible)… bam.Rounds off the whole thing quite nicely.

 Hm, that’sall I can think of on top of my head. Very likely forgot some things! XD

[ashenious]

Some Grand Affairs Amongst the Normality - Chapter 5 of ??? (Dante/Reader)

Overall Story Rating: Mature Overall Story Tags: Alcohol, Big Snake, (Like literally a big snake), Blood, Body Horror, Dead Body Mention, Fluff, Gore Mention, Depressive Thoughts, Drugging, IV Mention, Nausea, Nightmares, Reader is regular boring Human, Reader likes to clean, Reader is also a troublemaker, Slow Burn, Suicide Mention, There was only one bed,

For This Chapter: Rating: Mature (Rating Changed from Teen to Mature on whole story) Warnings: Body Horror Additional: None Word Count: 6431

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/ Part 10/Part 11/Part 12/Part 13/Part 14

AO3 Link: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/Part 10/Part 11/Part 12/Part 13/Part 14

“Dante, what the actual hell?”

“Look, I can explain!”

It had been about 5 months since you had started spending your days off at Devil May Cry, and almost every week there was something new happening in the store.

The first week you decided to spend your day off at the store, you walked in to Dante getting his ass kicked by some lady, who turned out to be a good friend of his. This was confusing to you, then what made it even more confusing was when she introduced herself as just ‘Lady’, but as she explained that Dante owed her money for something, at least the ass kicking part made sense.

She had felt bad for making you walk in to the sight of Dante getting thrown across the room and into his couch, something that caused you to panic and run to the man’s aid when he really didn’t need it, having accepted his fate since he was the one who made poor monetary decisions, and so she took you out for a nice dinner as an apology. It was a weird day, but it had ended up quite pleasant.

There was another day, just a few weeks after you had met Lady, where you met Trish when you walked in, the sight of her carrying the oversized Sparda sword that Dante sometimes used throwing you off as Trish was a woman of average size, with the Sparda sword being just about the same height as her, and yet she was just carrying it effortlessly.

You were amazed when you first saw her carrying the sword, and even more amazed to learn how strong she was when she fought, courtesy of Dante happily recalling stories of her kicking several demons’ asses with ease. Every time she was in the store when you came to visit you would always ask about demons if time allowed, knowing she herself was one. You had originally worried that you would offend her by asking such ignorant questions, but to your surprise she seemed to enjoy answering any and all questions, once inviting you to sit with her at a nearby coffee shop while the two of you talked over lunch.

It was after meeting the both of them that you slowly pieced together that maybe friends of Dante’s didn’t like to hang out inside Devil May Cry for too long, which kind of made sense seeing as the store always seemed to go from looking spotless and perfect to looking like an actual dumpster during the days of the week you couldn’t visit, and you couldn’t imagine anyone actually wanting to look at the store in its disaster state.

Every week you’d come into the store, and you’d pull on your cleaning gloves before you’d spend about 2 hours cleaning the store up, pulling at least 4 bags of trash out of the store every time, and every week, without fail, Dante would suggest he order pizza as a ‘thank you’ for cleaning the store, something that you had told him he didn’t need to thank you for. Off he would go and order a pizza though, one with everything on it, minus olives of course, and when he came back, he’d return to his chair before eating. You’d pull up a chair for yourself and you’d sit with him, the two of you often talking about nothing while you ate.

Most weeks, your visit was a pleasant and quiet one, where you’d just end up just sitting in the store with Dante, a book in hand as the man also read one of his magazines. The silence between you both was a comfortable one, and it was nice to be sitting down and relaxing without having to worry about being interrupted by someone who needed you to find a book for them.

Some days you found yourself dragging Dante out of the store, insisting that the man needed to get out of the store sometimes for nonbusiness related reasons as you were convinced that Dante never left the store unless it was for pizza or a job.

Dante, when you were able to get the man to leave his office, often insisted the two of you go to a nearby diner, one where it seemed like he often frequented as every time he went in, they’d hand him a strawberry sundae without him having to ask. Seeing the man only eat pizza and sundaes, you wondered how the man wasn’t in terrible shape and how he survived on such a diet.

Most days, when the sun started to go down, you’d find yourself gathering your things to head home. For the first few weeks, you’d run home as fast as possible when the sun started to set, a bit of worry overtaking you at possibly being caught outside in the dark for too long. After you had casually mentioned how you dreaded running home after every visit, Dante had insisted on walking with you home, and you didn’t argue much to his insistence, quite happy you were able to talk to the man for another half an hour.

Sometimes, however, a call would come into the store, the man always repeating the same greeting when he answered. The days that this happened, you would watch Dante’s face change into a more serious one, and as he listened to the person on the phone, you’d quietly gather your things, knowing well that there was a chance Dante had to leave to go do a job somewhere.

He always apologized for having to go work, something you didn’t understand why he’d being apologizing for as he was going to help someone. It was as you were leaving that you would always tell him that you’d see him next week, usually throwing out a suggestion of possibly going to a new place on your next day off. You’d always watch him lock the door to the store before saying goodbye and leaving, and as you walked home, if you were interrupted during your cleaning, you’d think about how much more cleaning you’d have to do the next week before you and Dante could go anywhere.

One week a few months into you spending your days off at Devil May Cry, as you sat at work, you sat and wondered what exactly Dante did in his free time when you were not there. When you were visiting, it only seemed like Dante would read magazines, or eat pizzas or sundaes while waiting for a job. You had wondered what the man could possibly be up to during the week when you weren’t there, often thinking about the mess you’d find every time you’d walk in. It didn’t add up to how the mess would be made by the man who seemed glued to his chair 90% of the time.

But this week, the mystery was slowly beginning to unravel as you were going in to surprise Dante a day early, a mix up in the schedule allowing you to have 2 days off in a row, and when you walked in today, the sight of 20 pizza boxes on top of Dante’s desk stopped you dead in your tracks, your bag of cleaning supplies falling to the ground from your hand as you stood in the door.

The man didn’t notice your presence initially, as he was preoccupied with shoveling pizza into his face as he sat in his usual position, legs high up on his desk. It was only when you cleared your throat that he noticed you, the slice of pizza that he was eating getting flung into the air as he jumped in surprise.

You looked around the store, surprised at how thoroughly clean it was; The store looked like it had been cleaned yesterday with the shelves still being in line, there were only a couple of papers scattered on the floor, and the trash cans weren’t even close to overflowing like usual.

“You’d better start explaining then,” you said, slowly leaning down and picking your bag and its contents up from the ground. Once everything was back in the bag, you stood up and made your way over to Dante’s desk, snorting a bit at the sight of the flying piece of pizza having landed on the man’s chest.

“Well, you see….” The man began, slowly peeling the greasy pizza off his chest and placing back inside the open box that sat in front of him. “Y-You’re here a day early! Get the day off?”

“I did! My boss mixed up the schedule, so I have an extra day off. And I wanted to spend it cleaning so that tomorrow I could have a full day off and spend it just relaxing,” you explained, setting your bag of stuff down before opening a box of pizza. “But you’re changing the subject, so please explain to me why your store looks so clean today?” you continued, grabbing a slice of pizza for yourself as you leaned against the desk’s edge.

“….Err….” hearing the hesitation from the man, you turned your eyes to look at him, gaze focused solely on him as you ate. “You see, there’s a good reason why the store looks good….and it’s caaaaaaaaause…”

Before Dante could continue his staling, the phone rang, the man leaping to answer it, quickly spewing out his typical ‘Devil May Cry’ greeting and then listening to the person on the other side. It was convenient timing for him, and as you sat and eat your pizza, your eyes didn’t leave his face, watching his expression change from sheepish to more serious over the time he was on the phone.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he said finally, slowly hanging up the phone after another few seconds. “Sorry, something serious has come up. This shouldn’t take too long but…”

“Oh, okay…” you said, a bit of disappointment in your voice. You slowly set the piece of pizza you were eating inside its box, gently closing the box afterwards. You couldn’t help but be disappointed, you had looked forward to coming in since the moment you woke up, excited to change up the week a little to surprise Dante,. As you panned over the whole desk looking at all the pizzas that you wondered what Dante would do with now, you heard a sigh and brought your eyes up to Dante who was looking at you, a soft expression on his face.

“Listen, I’ll explain when I get back,” he said, slowly walking himself around the desk to stand before you. “You could…wait here til I get back? Lady is supposed to come by later and I don’t think I’ll be able to get a hold of her to tell her I’ll be out.”

“I’ll wait here!” you blurted out quickly, feeling your face flush brightly. “I-I mean, it’s not like I have anything else to do.” Pulling yourself off the desk’s edge, you picked up the box of pizza that had your slice in it, quickly walking around the desk and sitting on Dante’s seat before re-opening the box and beginning to eat your piece again. “I’ll try to clean up a bit too.”

“Sounds good to me,” Dante said, a small chuckle leaving his throat. “If you can’t eat all this, just pass it out to people on the street; there are plenty of beggars that come in here all the time. It’ll probably be cold by the time I come back.”

“Ohhh, I can do that!” you grinned, finishing off your first slice. Dante hesitated for a second, his eyes meeting yours just as he turned around and left the store, the sound of the clock in the back and a car outside now the only sounds you could hear.

This wasn’t the first time you had been left alone in the store, Dante had left you alone to go and grab pizza from down the street a couple of times, but each time he had said he’d only be gone ‘For a few minutes at the most!’ which you actually learned meant at least 30 minutes.

But this time was different, as Dante didn’t give you a span of time he’d be gone, it was all up in the air for how long he’d be gone. All you knew is that at some point Lady would be stopping by and at some time after that, Dante would be returning.

It was mid-day now, the sun high in the sky and the noises outside loud as people went about their business, and you were just sat at the Devil May Cry desk, a slice of pizza dangling from your mouth as you peered around the store slowly, tallying up how many trash bags you would need to clean the store today.

You estimated only one trash bag would be needed today, assuming you’d be able to hand out whole boxes of pizza to people. Finishing up your second slice, you closed the box on your lap, slowly sliding it onto the desk as you stood up. You grabbed 2 boxes of pizzas, opening them a bit to see what was on them. Seeing every topping known to man, you finally understood how Dante was in such debt.

You went outside, slowly pacing around the immediate area of the store trying to make eye contact with people as you held out the boxes. It didn’t take a long time to pass them all out, many people almost shouting out in joy at the idea of a free pizza, especially some people who looked much less fortunate than yourself, and in only an hour, all but 3 boxes of pizza were gone.

Once Dante’s desk was cleared of the towers of the boxes, you put the three remaining boxes on the bar nearby, turning and admiring how still spotless looking the top of the wooden desk was. Normally it’d be covered in papers or liquid rings from whatever drinks Dante drank that week, but there was nothing there now except his phone.

It was a beautiful sight, and as your eyes wandered around the room, you slowly made your way to your bag, first pulling out and then pulling on your gloves, deciding today would be the day you would deep scrub the lower floor. It looked like it needed some love, the tile dingy, dark, and always covered in a bit of dirt and foot prints from Dante and whoever else had been in the store since the last time the floor was cleaned. And based on how thick some of the dirt spots were, you could only guess that it had been years since someone had tried to clean the tiles.

You scrubbed for a good 2 hours before you needed a break, your knees covered in dirt and a bit scrapped up from you cleaning a patch of the floor, backing up toward the front door a bit and then repeating the process. You listened to the jukebox for background noise to help get through the task at hand, you having looped through at least 2 records in the time, but you had finally finished about half the floor, quite impressed with yourself at how much better the cleaned floor looked in comparison to the floor that you currently stood on.

Pausing for a second, you wondered how long it would take for the floor to dry, remembering that you had left your stuff sitting in front of Dante’s desk.

You looked at the floor, hesitantly stepping one foot onto the clean floor before you made another step, taking a long stride to cover as much of the floor as you could. You repeated your long strides, only needing 3 to get close to the wooden floor.

Hearing the door open behind you, you froze, legs still spread out over the floor, you only just one step away from the step up. You turned your head a bit, slowly rotating your torso around as you tried to keep your feet from moving.

“Welcome in!” you said, reflex kicking in for greeting a visitor.

Seeing 2 eyes of different colours looking at you, you smiled a bit, and turned yourself around completely as you greeted Lady. Lady greeted you back as she closed the door behind her, and you slowly stepped your way onto the dry floor as she asked what you were doing,

“Deep cleaning,” you said as you motioned over the wet floor. “But I left my stuff next to Dante’s desk, so I was trying to not step on too much of the floor.”

“Oh, I see. This store really needs the attention, I doubt Dante even owns a broom.” Lady said as she looked over the area. “Speaking of, where is he?”

“He doesn’t, I looked. And he’s out right now, he asked me to stay here until you got here since he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with you,” you explained as you watched Lady walk over to the couch and set down her bag on it before sitting down beside it. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, how have you been?” you asked, slowly pulling out a chair from the nearby table and sitting down on it.

“Been good, been very busy. There’s this one job that I’ve been on for a while now.” Lady explained. “I’ve been looking for a demon bar that’s supposedly in town.”

“A demon bar?” you asked.

“Yeah. Well, it’s not an official job, but it’s a rumor I’ve been following for at least 2 months now.” Lady said as she crossed her leg over her other. “I can’t seem to get a lead on it, and I’m wondering if a place even exists.”

“Huh…A demon bar sounds expensive,” you muttered quietly.

“What was that?”

“I mean, Dante said he needed to drink a lot more than a full human to get drunk, I can only imagine how much liquor a full demon would need to get drunk,” you explained as you rubbed your chin slowly. “It’s probably way more cost effective for a demon to drink at home…”

“I don’t think every demon gets a chance to drink at home,” Lady said, a small laugh coming from her.

“Oh, that’s true… That probably makes the bar a favourite place for some demons.” Pulling your hand down from your face, you looked around the area.

You thought about Alecz and your Boss and how you had recently learned that both of them were demons, a fact that didn’t change your opinion about them at all. The fact, however, did make you wonder if either of them were friends with more demons.

You knew the answer was yes, of course they had friends that were probably demons as well, but you also wondered what kind of friends they had, and if they were good or bad. You felt a little bad thinking like that, as that was never a thought you had about your human friends and their friends, so why would you think about that for your demon friends?

Your eyes glanced to Lady for a moment, her attention now turned to her weapon that she was polishing. Watching as she cleaned off her Kalina Ann, you wondered how she came across the rumor of a demon bar.

You looked around the room again, hoping to find a pen you could use to write on yourself so you could remind yourself to ask Alecz or your Boss later about if either of them know anything about this demon bar. But you stopped, your face crinkling a bit as you wondered on if you should ask them about it, wondering if it would a wise idea to ask your friends about a place demons would enjoy hanging out and then telling that information to a demon hunter.

Your thoughts were halted, however, at the sound of the door opening which caused you to jump a bit. You spun around on your chair, your hand coming up to rest on the back of it as you saw Dante and a new person walk into the store. You greeted them both, a smile on your face as Dante looked over to you.

“Hey, glad you’re here Lady!” the other gentleman said as he closed the door and looked over Lady. She greeted the man, and slowly stood up as you turned to look at her.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m J.D. Morrison, pleasure to meet you,” The man said as he removed his hat, you turning around to face him when you realized he was talking to you. Taking the man’s extended hand, you stood up and shook it, introducing yourself to Morrison. “I’m a broker, I’ve worked with Dante for quite a while now.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said as you released the man’s hand.

“Wow, the floor looks so much better!” Dante exclaimed, his eyes going over the area as he whistled. “I didn’t even realize what nice tile I had here.” Watching the man walk over the floor, you sighed a little, but realized quickly that the tile had finally dried. Morrison and Lady followed Dante, making their way over to his desk.

“Oh, wait a moment.” Sitting down at his desk, Dante put down a file he was holding, his eyes turning to you as you started putting on your cleaning gloves, determination filling you again to finish your cleaning. “Hey, we’re going to be talking about a case here.” Dante pulled out some papers from the file before him, spreading them out over the entirety of his desk so that all of the papers could be seen.

“Oh?” Grabbing some your cleaning supplies, you turned to Dante, looking over his desk at the surface covered in papers. “I was just going to keep cleaning the floor over on this side, I can keep quiet.”

“Well, it’s not that…” Dante said as he chuckled a bit. “I’ve told you about the case I’ve been working on for a few months, the one with the people ending up burnt alive?”

“Oh yeah, you’ve mentioned it,” you said, gently bringing your hand up to rub your jawline. “You’ve been working on that for a few months? Has it been that long of a case?”

“We’ve been following it for about 5 months now,” Morrison said, him turning to look at you as he leant on Dante’s desk.

“Remember that phone call I took the first time you were in?” Dante asked, his elbows coming down to the desk to rest on as his hands supported his face. “That was Morrison calling to tell me about the first victim.”

“Shit, I can’t believe it’s been that long…” you muttered, you hand coming down to your side as you looked over the three people standing before you. Lady was already beginning to read the papers on Dante’s desk, her one hand holding the paper she was reading as another slowly pulled another toward her.

“Yeah, and some of the details of the case are...pretty gross,” Dante explained as his eyes watched yours. “You going to be good with listening to us talk about it?”

“Oh, yeah! I don’t mind, I just really want to finish this floor today,” you said, a small grin on your face as you picked up your scrubbing brush.

Nodding at you, Dante turned his eyes down to the table, and as Morrison followed suit, you knelt down, your mind playing out the path of scrubbing you were going to follow as you looked over the floor.

As your body naturally followed your plan, you let your mind wander a bit, hoping to ignore most of what Dante and them were saying. You didn’t consider yourself squeamish, not anymore at least, and there were very few things that bothered you before a few months ago. It was only after the nightmares started about 4 months ago that you got completely used to gruesome things, your mind creating awfully startling things as you slept every night.

The nightmares often featured the large snake demon from before, the memory of the evening often replaying multiple times a week as you slept, sometimes allowing a twist to happen during the memory that changed how the snake came after you.

Sometimes your dreams changed the path you took, once allowing you to jump into the river from off the bridge, resulting in you drowning, or once allowing you to run to work instead of toward the park, resulting in the snake demon eating your coworkers before your eyes. Sometimes your dreams changed the ending of your memory, resulting in you being eaten alive by the beast. That was your least favourite of the outcomes your mind made.

Occasionally the snake demon wouldn’t be present at all, instead it would be replaced with another grotesque looking beast that was made of the combined parts of people, with its body being made of sewn together flesh and its arms and legs each being composed of a whole person’s body with multiple arms and legs coming off of them in sporadic directions. You never saw the face of this beast, despite you trying to view it each time it appeared, and the only thing you knew that was on the beast’s face was that it had bright red eyes with pupils that changed to slits as they grew smaller.

There had only been a handful of times where the nightmares had jolted you awake, your body drenched in sweat as you tried to ground yourself in reality, disorientation not allowing you to leave your state of sleep easily. Usually it was when something new would happen in your dream that you would find yourself abruptly waking up, sometimes with your covers being thrown off as you found yourself stumbling to the bathroom to hover over the toilet.

Mornings were even less pleasant to you now too, as nausea often overtook your being for a few hours before it began to fade, and breakfast was no longer an option for you before noon most days. On the unfortunate days where Alecz would brew a particularly strong smelling coffee, you’d find yourself hiding in your room until the odor dissipated, lest you wished to find yourself spending the early portion of the day locked in the bathroom.

Thinking of the horrid new coffee that Alecz had made this morning, one that caused you to leave the house much earlier than you planned, your stomach gurgled, gently reminding you that you hadn’t eaten anything at all for the day. Pulling yourself up and sitting back on your heels, you wiped a bit of sweat away from your brow, your eyes going over the area that you had just finished scrubbing.

You glanced over the whole floor, and seeing the contrast of the freshly cleaned floor to the parts that hadn’t been touched yet, you smiled a little, happy with the progress you were making. It was as you were about to turn back to continue your cleaning binge that you heard the group nearby talking about details of the case they were working on that caught your stomach and mind’s unfortunate attention.

“So, what makes you think that these random mix drinks and cooked livers are connected to the burn victims?” you heard Dante ask. You turned yourself a bit on your knees, glancing over to the group as each passed around a piece of paper to each other.

“Hear me out, ‘cause I know they’re connected,” Morrison replied as he pulled out a new paper from his coat pocket. “The culprit got careless on their last burning, and I was able to get the workers at the morgue to pull viable tissue samples from the victim. The mix drink that was found 10 days prior to their death was made from their blood. And the found liver matched the tissue sample too. Definitive proof that these ‘random’ findings are connected.”

“So, the culprit is taking blood and the victim’s liver out and leaving them around town before they burn them?” Lady asked as Morrison handed her the paper he had pulled out.

“Seems to be so. And the days between the findings are all consistently 5 days apart too,” Morrison explained as he pointed to part of the paper lady was holding. “Victim goes missing, 5 days later we get a call about the mix drink, 5 days later we get a call about a cooked liver at a hospital somewhere, and 5 days later we get a call about a scorched human.”

“What a terrible way to go…” Dante muttered, his eyes looking a page before him up and down.

“Probably the worst way to go. The bodies are so charred that the morgue can’t even tell when the victims are dying either, whether it’s from the fire or from not having a liver anymore,” Morrison said, his hand lightly running over a few papers in front of him anymore. “And one weird part about the liver is how it’s cut. It’s cut and prepared so well that the lab says it looks like something you’d find at an overpriced, high end restaurant.”

“…How is the liver prepared, exactly?” you said suddenly. Seeing everyone’s eyes turn over to you, you felt yourself flush a bit, quickly standing to your feet and removing your gloves.

“Do you think how it’s prepared is relevant to the case?” Lady asked, her eyebrow a bit raised as she and the others watched you.

“I-It could be…” you said quietly. Tossing your gloves and supplies to the side, you took a few steps up to Dante’s desk, slowly looking over the details of the papers that were previously too far away to see before. “I-I mean, the way I see it, most people probably don’t know how to cut a liver right, let alone how to cook one properly.

“Plus, if it’s a human liver, for someone to cook it properly, and for other people to describe it as ‘something you’d find at an overpriced, high end restaurant’, I’d say the culprit probably has a extraordinary amount of food knowledge and experience,” you continued, your eyes going up and looking at each of the people before you as you spoke. Watching Morrison grab a paper that was hidden under a few others, his eyes went over it slowly.

“Lab says…the liver was cooked through thoroughly and garnished with onions,” he said as he looked at the paper before him.

“Ew,” sticking your tongue out a bit, you tried not to imagine exactly how a human liver felt when it was completely cooked through and garnished with onions, failing to stop your brain as the thought came into your head.

“That’s a solid point though,” Lady said, her hand coming up to her face as she thought for a second.

“So, we’re looking for an expert chef then?” Dante asked, his arms crossing in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. “That only narrows this down to a good chunk of the population.”

“It’s a good start, I think,” Morrison said as he set down the paper he was holding. “It makes sense too, with the mix drink that the culprit has been leaving around.”

“Oh yeah, you said they’re leaving a mix drink made with the victim’s blood?” you asked, your eyes going over the desk searching for a paper about the mix drink.

“Honey, milk, blood, vegetable oil, and some type of liquor, most commonly vodka, are the ingredients of this terrible mix drink” Morrison explained, his eyes also going over the desk in search of a paper. Watching him shuffle through a few stacks, you watched as he pulled one page out slowly, his eyes going over it for a second before he handed the paper to you. “The weirdest part is that the drink isn’t ever actually mixed, at least, not when it’s initially found.”

Seeing that the page you were handed was a picture, you took note of the oddity that was printed on it. There was a corked bottle shown, and within the bottle were 5 different separate layers of liquid, each sitting undisturbed on top of the other in the order that Morrison had listed them off before. What made you furrow your brow was not the sight of the layers, but the label that was on the bottle, a ribbon attached to it as the paper lay hanging off of it that said, “Shake Well.”

“What…a drink,” was all you could say for a moment as you looked at each layer in the drink. “But they’re separated by, uh…” Snapping your fingers a few times, you struggled to find the right word, your brain having to go back to your primary school days to think of the concept that you were looking at.

“Oh, by density?” Lady proposed for you.

“That’s it!”

“Makes sense with the food knowledge theory, cause I sure as hell had no idea you could put milk over honey and liquor over vegetable oil.” Morrison said, his hand reaching out to take the photo from you. Handing it over to him, you again looked over the desk, wondering if there was any order to the papers that were strewn about.

“That kind of careful separation takes a lot of skill to do,” Dante said, his one hand coming up to rub his chin gently. “At least, for alcoholic drinks anyway. You have to pour anything you’re adding to a drink super precisely over a spoon usually.”

“Maybe…this demon is connected to the demon bar I’ve been looking for,” Lady said, her hand also coming up to rub her chin.

“You think they could be a worker there?” you asked as you turned to Lady.

“That’d explain how they’d be able to do this whole extra density thing they did,” Dante said, a light chuckle leaving him as he spoke as his hand waved through the air slowly.

“I’m going to go out and try to crack down on this demon bar then,” Lady said, her hands coming down to rest on her sides. “If it is tied into this case, then I’ll need to take the existence of it more seriously than just thinking it’s a rumored place to find between jobs.”

“Agreed. I’ll see what I can find out about it too,” Dante said, his hands coming down to his knees before he slowly lifted himself up to stand.

“I’ll update the force about this, see what they can find,” Morrison said as he pulled himself from the desk, his hat being placed back on his head before he nodded at the group. Watching the man take his leave, Lady followed behind just after, her walking over to her weapon on the couch and gathering it up before she said goodbye and left.

“Oh, I guess if I’m heading out…” you heard Dante mutter. Turning from the front door to him, you watched as he began to gather all the papers up into one pile. “The sun is going to be setting soon, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah, but that’s fine!” you said quickly. “I-I mean, I can just finish the floor tomorrow, not like it’s going to go away any time soon.” Hearing a small chuckle, you watched as Dante put all the papers into his drawer before he walked around the desk to the side you stood at. “Assuming that it’s alright I can come by tomorrow too?”

“Yeah, I might not be here though,” Dante admitted, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck gently. “There’s only a few more days until the next victim is taken, so I might head out early in the morning.”

“That’s fine, I mean…” you started, quickly gathering your things as Dante made his way to the door. Deciding against hauling all your cleaning supplies home, you placed them near the table by the front door and grabbed the remainder of your stuff. “I’ll just stop by and see if you’re here, at least it’ll get me out of the house for a little bit!”

“Sounds good to me,” Dante said, his hand gently resting itself on your shoulder as you exited the store.

After the man locked the door, you watched as he began to walk in the opposite direction of you, you sighing a bit at the thought of not being able to finish the floor that you were so hoping to get sparkling clean today.

Closing the front door to your apartment, you paused a second, your ears trying to pick up any sound inside the home. Hearing a page turn and a small sigh, you followed the noise, your eyes falling on Alecz in their usual position in the living room. You greeted them, slowly walking your way over to the nearby chair as you waited for their response.

“…Hey,” they finally said, their eyes coming up for only a second to acknowledge you.

“Mind if I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” they asked, their bookmark gently being set into their book before it was closed.

“You ever heard of a demon bar?” you asked, your hands gently pulling your legs up from the floor to cross them in front of you.

“A demon bar?” Alecz’s hand came up, resting up under their chain as their face contorted in thought. “I…don’t think so.”

“Oh, okay,” you said quietly. “I was only asking cause there’s this case Dante’s working on, and they’re thinking a killer demon might be a worker at a demon bar somewhere around here,” you explained, your fingers tapping on the sides of your feet as you spoke.

“Oh, that’s not good.” Alecz replied.

“Not at all.” Slowly bringing yourself to your feet, Alecz slowly opened their book up, their eyes falling to it only a moment later. “I’d thought I’d at least ask, in case you had heard anything.”

“If… I hear anything,” they started. “I’ll let you know.” Thanking them, you smiled a bit before you made your way to your room. Bagels started screaming as soon as she saw you, hoping to procure some food out of you 2 hours before the set dinner time. Laying yourself down next to her, you crossed your arms under your head, your mind wandering to tomorrow, hoping that Dante would be in the store even for just a little bit when you decided to go visit.

[megstielforever]

My headcanon about Meg...

According to legend, Azazel was one of the fallen angels who had children with human women. The earth was chaotic and God made the decision to clean up all the disaster. Before sending the Flood, he sent a garrison of angels, led by Michael. The rebellious angels were caught and punished. They were sent to hell for all eternity and their childrens ( the nephilims) were killed. (This story can be found in old "Book of Enoch”)

Well, my guess is one Nephilim ( daughter of Azazel ) found a way to run away from that killing. She ran off to Hell. She was tortured;  with sufficient time, she was turned in demon and their "angel" part was annulled. She forgot her true nature and she became a powerful and completely loyal demon.She became Alastair's favorite because she learned perfectly the art of torture. Also, She was one of Azazel's, her father's, privileged , who when realized that she had forgotten her past, he preferred keep it a secret. She was so loyal that It was for this reason that she was chosen for the mission of the Winchesters. And... In a  way, she was an angel so that's why Castiel called her "beautiful". He saw something in her, something he couldn't explain <3

(I want to clarify that I haven't forgotten about Tom, the brother of Meg, He could have slipped out with her too, but I wanted to focus only on Meg).

The next is something I wrote about the moment when Meg flees from the garrison of angels.

 (My thanks to @inkbleeder​ who has corrected translation errors in the next...)

 ---

[Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye.

Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.

Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. All hope abandon ye who enter here” "Prose of" Hell "- Dante Alighieri ]

“The branches hit with her face at the speed of her footsteps. She almost drowned in the smell of her sweat and blood. Saving her power to use it at the right time, she just kept running down the road hoping to get to that place she saw as her only salvation. Far away behind, she knew they were there chasing after her. smelling the wake of light and dust that she was leaving behind. She didn't have much time. Midnight was approaching and that was the right time to do what had to be done. The piercing sound of the archangels grew louder and there was still a long stretch before they reached the cave hidden among the sharpened rocks of the mountain.When she began to hear the murmurs in Enochian, she tried to go faster but stumbled on the road, adding another wound to the set of scrapes and bruises she already had on her body. A piece of her torn robe was left behind in the path. If she had stopped to retrieved it, she would have been delayed and every second was more than valuable. So she risked leaving it as an obvious clue to the way she was going. She didn't want to stop to think, she just ran and she ran as fast as she could. Shortly after, the entrance to the cave was closer and she took another breath and sprinted again. The spell that kept her hidden from the sight of the angels was losing its effect when the Enochian whispers became thunderous voices that specifically spoke of her and how she had to be trapped and killed to save the honor of the heavens. The black mouth of the cave opened. Her fear grew even bigger and she made an effort to focus only on the part of herself that was going to help her at that moment. She turned her head back and could feel them right behind her. She took a breath of air and stepped quickly into the opening. Blinded, she continued running. Only the voices that followed her pushed her to continue as lightly as she could. The air became thicker. She could see a red spot in the distance and ran in that direction. Little by little, the stain became a wall of burning rock, as if it were boiling red hot. When she stood in front of it, so close the heat it emanated could burn her skin.

When she stood in front of it, so close that the heat it emanated could burn her skin, she took out a razor and cut the palm of one hand, letting the blood fall on the other. She sighed again and tried to silence in her mind the voices that had been pursuing her to concentrate on the pronunciation of the spell. She had to do it perfectly, because she didn't have time to try again; otherwise the angels would come to her. After shedding the last drop of blood, she fixed her eyes on this and began the recitation. The palm of her hand burnt but she had to finish. "You will be punished and eliminated from the face of the earth for being the result of the sin of our race against God" Michael's voice boomed behind but she only reached to rest the palm of her hand on the burning wall. Her blood boiled and the fire the fire rise up her arm. In a matter of seconds, the flames consumed her completely. The garrison of angels was met with nothing but a huge wall of rock and a pile of ashes.”

[kristie-rp]

TS: Never Any Good News

FIRST | I-1 | SECOND

Original by @cassandra-rp / @coloredinsanity

Axel appears out of thin air in the library lobby on an otherwise perfectly normal Saturday afternoon.

As is standard in Port Lyndon, rain is falling in a drizzle, turning the view outside the window into a hazy experience at best. Jonathan and Intella are settled behind the main desk on their own chairs, Jonathan idly fiddling with the feet Intella has propped in his lap. She clutches a book, turning pages periodically, and he is researching antiques to verify sources on an aging tablet, copying out notes for his boss for work on Monday. It’s quiet, the library virtually abandoned. Valentina has visited earlier in the morning, claiming her usual backpack of books riddled with suggestions from Intella, and Angeline has come to browse poetry and taken off with two books. Aside from that, it’s been quiet, and Axel’s company is the first they’ve had since Angeline left muttering about coffee in the morning.

Intella sits up in surprise at Axel’s entrance, lowering her book to frown at him in confusion as she slips her feet from her husbands’ lap. It is an unspoken rule that all obviously non-human activity occurs as out of sight as possible, preferably in what was once an office before Intella made it into something of a relic storage room: that the time demon has manifested in the main room, right in front of the desk, is a violation and an oddity.

What is still more unusual is the immediacy with which he raises his hand, purple and black energy swirling around first them, then herself and Jonathan, and then, as she looks on, the building itself. It coats it like molasses, thick and dark and obvious, but does nothing to hamper her movements. Intella frowns as she attempts to describe the sensation to herself. Everything – stops, for a moment. She can feel her own heartbeat and her own breath on her lips, but she hears nothing, for a long, long period. it comes back to her as quickly as it left, the energy fading to something that she can see in a faint purple tint overlaying everything it touches, not unlike the one on the notebooks Axel has maintained a habit of gifting her with for countless lifetimes now. She can hear the world again, and she assumes this means it never stopped – not for most others, at least. Traffic hurries past outside the window, and Intella shakes her head, piecing together the evidence she has.

Axel, she deduces, has wedged them in the middle of a dimensional gap. She’s heard him talk about it before – has pried him with countless questions and taken still more notes over the years – and knows that it is the easiest way to prevent any changes to the current timeline from taking hold over them. He’s not immune, which doesn’t surprise her in the least despite never being told: she watches the colour leech from his face, the white stark against his dark red hair, and frowns still more as he collapses to the floor. Jonathan, much to her surprise – she hadn’t seen him move – is beside his brother in an instant, carefully taking him in his arms. He deposits Axel on the couch in the nearest meticulously maintained reading nook, and lingers to check on him.

“What on earth is going on?” Intella manages when she finally finds her voice again. She’s staring helplessly at Jonathan, as though he has answers that she doesn’t know about, as if he wouldn’t warn her if something major was on the horizon. She has theories – of course she does, at any given time in Port Lyndon there are at least four valid theories for everything that could possibly happen (demonic nonsense, Herontesuto nonsense, Constantine nonsense, Inferno nonsense), but even the usual selection don’t really cover this, especially with Axel’s bizarre urgency, knocking himself out with no hesitation whatsoever, and especially not precisely enough to offer any real answers.

“It’s a time barrier,” Jonathan says. Intella does not predict answers she couldn’t have guessed herself in her future. “So far as I know, Axel’s the only person who can create them. He’s protecting this spot and us from whatever is happening – whatever happened.”

Intella huffs, because she really doesn’t think that explains much of anything. Protected from time – so it’s probably time related, she figures; after all, that’s Axel’s whole deal. Her mind runs a mile a minute as she tries to come up with something useful to do, examining the library around her. She wants to question Axel, but there’s no way she can guess how long he’s going to be out. She resigns herself to being the least useful person in the room, what with Jonathan fussing over Axel, as her gaze passes over the desk.

She looks back quickly, staring intently at one of the many books open on her desk. It had been open to the record of the ritual that had sealed Dante away back when Port Lyndon began forming on this particular site. Had is the operative word. She reaches for it, flipping forward through several blank pages and then back a couple – nothing, no word on the team-up to take down Dante. Nothing about how she, Paimon, December, Rikku and Raven were forced to work together to trap a demon, nothing about how Raven sacrificed herself. More flicking reveals even more pages blank or half-missing: anything that had mentioned an Inferno is gone, blank as if it were never printed.

All of it.

She hurries to the history section, plucking familiar books off the shelf to quickly scan the pages. Contents and indexes with glaring white spaces where a reference should be, pages ominously blank – no mention of any Inferno at all, just some vague comments about Demon Kings, vague enough that she wonders if they’re deliberately incomplete, because no way are they this uninvolved in human existence. In her memory, they are there all the time, prodding and interfering and causing trouble. “Jonathan, why would previously complete books have blank pages now?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

Jonathan looks away from Axel to meet Intella’s gaze, and she assumes he’s confirmed that there’s nothing medically wrong with his brother, that he is merely exhausted from exerting so much power at once. “Changes to history, usually. If the history isn’t there to be written about, the book either vanishes or if it talks about multiple topics, well. Things vanish, sentences go missing until the timeline repairs itself – if there’s some person in the wrong place in this timeline, then it’ll fill in the gaps with something that works instead, something written by the same person. Axel’s barrier’s around us and the building, not the books. Probably did it on purpose. What’s missing?”

“Infernos,” she says, voice grim. “All of them. I can find some mentions of Paimon – but only in relation to his role as a Demon King.” Intella jabs at the page of the book she is currently holding, indicating a blank space. “An entire subsection that was in here about him falling for a human bride? It’s not here.”

Jonathan rubs at his forehead, and Intella braces herself for potentially bubbling frustration. He does this when he is trying to remain calm, usually for her sake. She knows it’s because he is under the (correct) impression that it helps her focus, and she finds it sweet that he cares enough to try – but it’s infuriating, the sense that she’s being catered to. What he never seems to figure out is that she knows him, knows his body language, how the straight lines of stiff shoulders and curves of folded arms over his chest speak volumes of his discomfort. “We’re safe in the library,” he says, “but I don’t know how far Axel’s powers will stretch, so we shouldn’t leave if we can avoid it – at least not until he’s awake. The books can probably tell us more anyway, or the internet – that should still be working.” He murmurs the last of it, frowning as he digs out his laptop, not willing to complete this brand of research on the struggling tablet he dropped earlier.

The most obvious thing to do is to look for Christabella online. Paimon, he knows, is indifferent to technology, and especially social media, using it only if Bella or one of his well-meaning children push him to. Even Intella, with her aversion to the digital age (convenience at a cost, she calls it), knows Bella has been on social media for as long as it has existed.

Jonathan finds her Intagram and Twitter quickly, and he doesn’t have to scroll through many posts to figure out she doesn’t have a clue who Paimon is. There are no pictures of him, not even of anyone who could pass for an altered human guise, no red hair in any of the pictures. Plenty of her posts feature her whining about being single or involved in bad relationships (she only seems to use nicknames, and he wonders absently if that’s a thing she has always done or if it is a learned habit). There’s even a comment about how at this point she should settle for Satan, with all the disasters she manages to hook up with (Jonathan knows that if Satan sees this, he’ll be offended; he also knows there is absolutely no reason for Satan to even know Bella exists, without the Paimon connection.)

It’s clear that Christabella and Paimon have never been together, and Jonathan and Intella’s minds are both churning. There are so many changes that result from this – so many things that will immediately explain why Axel, the immortal demon used to dealing with timeline shifts, looks like death warmed over.

Every Inferno child lived a life that effects others: if Gina never meets Salem, they have no way of knowing what happened to Salem and the lives his piracy touched. If Keith never kills, then there will be countless survivors and countless people suffering at the hands of those he targeted, or their descendants. If Shaun has never been trapped by Heron, then where does their information on demons come from, if they have it? And that’s without considering how much softer Paimon became under Bella’s influence, leading to him helping her and so many other humans – he trained Rikku because Christabella made him aware of how humans can suffer, gave her her byzantine-adamantium katana, and without that, what can the Japanese sociopath do? So many lives will have been lost at Paimon’s hands, and so many lives not saved because of a lack of his children and his protégé.

And so the research begins, with them having nothing else to do until Axel wakes anyway. Hours pass, but between the two of them they finally manage to find a hint of what has changed. She finds a legend online using the ancient library computer, the closest thing they’ve found to an explanation. Until history realigns, they can’t trust books, and Intella’s notebooks are useless for picking out new information, preserved by ingrained barriers to maintain details of the original timeline and lifetimes they were written in.

“‘The fairest human in the realm in beauty, spirit, and grace’,” Jonathan reads aloud when Intella brings it to his attention, “‘was sent to Hell as a consequence of a careless mistake of the ones responsible for such events. She caught the eye of the Demon King, Paimon, second only to Lucifer in the ranks of Hell. Absolutely charmed, the demon would have offered her everything, ensnared by her kindness and beauty as he was. Before anything could come of it, the human girl was found to be armed with a dull grey blade. Spoken of only in whispers, the Knife was said to have the power to rend a soul from a body and prevent it from ever being returned to the world. It became clear that her intentions were sinister, and her betrayal enraged the King, who barred her from his circle from then and evermore, casting her into the Pit until such time as her soul was due to be reborn, cursed forever to attract only the people who deserved a traitorous wench in their lives’.”

There’s a long pause as Intella unpacks it all, digging out her notebooks – she really must thank Axel more, when this is done, or when he wakes – to cross-check the facts she has half-memorised. “She never had a weapon, and that wasn’t how she ended up in Hell,” she confirms. “The demons – our version of the demons attacked the human realm, with Paimon on side. He took her out of boredom, essentially, held her captive out of spite, I suppose? He didn’t expect her to be so stubborn about the entire situation. Apparently, I was under the impression that that’s what made him so curious, since – well. You know.”

Jonathan nods his assent. “Yeah, I don’t really remember that time well myself – the whole dying thing, you know how it is. I think Axel was closer to the Kings back then, thanks to what he can do. I remember him laughing his ass off for an hour about how Paimon had pulled the big scary Demon King act on her and yelled at her with that booming voice he does, and she basically rolled her eyes and told him that she was still hungry.”

A faint snort and louder groan announced Axel’s return to the waking world, and Intella glanced at him to watch him pull himself up, using the arm of the couch as a pillow. “You had to be there.” Despite how serious the situation they’re in now is, Axel finds himself laughing. “Just – imagine this freakin’ five-two underweight little mortal girl in a cage, giving this gigantic, overmuscled Demon King nothing but sass in front of absolutely everyone. She didn’t give a fuck anymore, not since he’d killed her family – who she already thought were assholes, by the way, so she really couldn’t have cared less about the whole thing.” By now, he has managed to sit upright, twisting his body to get his feet on the floor. He lifts his hands to rest his head in them, taking a deep, steadying breath. Intella watches his smile fade, and frowns, aware he must be becoming more aware of the pain. “Why are you talking about the big two Infernos, anyway?”

“They’re gone,” Jonathan says without preamble, something like an apology in his voice. “Well, Paimon and Bella seem to exist, but there’s nothing else to it. No relationship – nothing.”

“That would explain the hangover,” Axel grumbles, forcing himself to his feet, however shaky he is. “Someone changed some timelines – which, obviously that resulted in so many more changes than just some. I couldn’t make sense of all the changes, not with them happening so fast. I just didn’t want to lose you two –” he pauses, clears his throat, the sound cutting through the dull thrum of the city outside in the harshest way possible. “Well, I mean. I didn’t want to lose the people who could help me.”

Intella rolls her eyes, because she is immune to Leperance bullshit at this point, and she is fully aware that the slip reveals the amount of sentiment that explains Axel’s urgency. She exhales slowly, reaching up to push her glasses back up her nose. “So more than the Infernos?”

“Yeah. More. I don’t know who else. So much has changed that it’s just noise right now, for me anyway. Looks like you already figured out the books, though,” he observes, nodding in approval at the blank pages on the desk. He glances at the bookshelves, and Intella wonders if he’s guessing how much fact is in those pages, how much can be trusted, how much will never be revealed – if he’s considering how much this cuts Intella, to see her precious collection rendered incomplete. He turns back to Intella and his brother, strides purposefully over to lean on the back of the chair and indicates the laptop, like they can’t see him shaking – can’t see how much this is eating at him. “The news might give us some leads,” he says, and Intella bites her tongue on the urge to insist he sit, because then it will become a point of pride not to, and that would be counterintuitive.

It’s easier to find things in the news than it should be, Intella thinks. There are allusions to disappearances of people, to beings stripped from their homes. She frowns at the news, because this isn’t the world becoming aware of the changes – no, it’s breaking and entering carried out in an almost rhythmic manner, one a month for the past three years, according to what she finds. “Abductions in the city,” she explains when Jonathan reaches for her hand, apparently picking up on the tense curve of her shoulders. “The police are clueless – and – I wish we had a hacker.”

She pauses, considers. She might have a hacker, actually. There are no Inferno’s – Brielle is out – but she has taken advantage of Virus’s services before, and she had to memorise the email, because he refused to let it be saved to contacts. It’s scrawled in the back of one of the notebooks Axel has charmed – “Thanks for these, Axel,” she tells him, pushing him into her now vacant seat as she digs out the right one. She drags over a third chair and pushes the rolling one out of the way, pressing the tablet into his hands as she turns to her computer.

To: lvccolevirus@teleworm.com From: admin@lyndonlibrary.com Subject: Work request

Hello V, I have a service request. Need to know current employment for police in Port Lyndon. No questions, the usual. Will forward usual fee upon information receipt. - I.M.

To: admin@lyndonlibrary.com From: lvccolevirus@teleworm.com Subject: Re. Work request

This is an automatically generated message to inform you that your email has been forward to sylvirus@telecommune.com.

         Message:          Hello V,...                                            [click to view]

To: admin@lyndonlibrary.com From: sylvirus@telecommune.com Subject: TEMP_FILE HOST: RE.-Work-Request-%120 Attachments: urgent.pdf

I don’t know where you got that address, but do not contact it again. It has been out of use for ages. V can’t take this right now, so I have. I’ve attached the relevant information. Usual code applies. Forward payment as indicated; fees as listed Have a nice day, SO

Intella pauses but takes the information, surprised at the lower rate than she is used to. She doesn’t know an S.O., at least not one who remains connected to Virus in any way. A thought itches at her mind and her brow furrows. “Police are understaffed – can – we need mentions of Heron,” she says aloud, thanking the fact that she is already in an incognito browser before searching with more urgency before.

Bing News lauds Herontesuto Laboratories for scientific discoveries she doesn’t have any memory of hearing about. She can’t find a single mention of any of the pryo-related technology they churned out in the past few years of the original – if that’s what it is – timeline, which makes sense without any Inferno’s to report on.

But there are also no mentions of the protests that took place five years ago, the ones that resulted in a death when Herontesuto ‘security’ got too reckless. Intella has never been able to prove that it was intentional, though she suspects, and Axel’s unwillingness to confirm or deny only makes her more certain.

“The witch is still alive,” she says aloud, catching Axel’s attention. She is frowning at her screen. “A – a few years back, normally – give me a minute.” She flicks back in her nearest notebook. “Heron protests got out of hand and three protestors were hospitalised. One died – a witch, tech witch; I knew her when she was younger, taking out spellbooks – anyway. I always thought it was suspicious that the witch died when the other two ended up recovering, Axel, but she lived this time. There weren’t any protests.” She pauses. “There are no Heron protests that I can find at all.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound right,” Jonathan mumbles. He pulls up his own search, more specific than Intella’s, because he’s just better at using the internet for research. Intella is better at finding the right book and pulling contacts out of thin air. He makes a noise of frustration. “People always protest Heron, though.”

Axel hums agreement. “Doesn’t matter the timeline, people take issue to violations of life and liberty. Or progress, in that one timeline. Animal rights extremists,” he explains without explaining anything, and chuckles to himself.

Intella shakes her head. “No protests of Heron?  There can’t be no supernaturals around. There’d be no Heron at all, if that were the case.” There is a terrible sinking feeling in the air, and Intella clicks onto the tab with her email open as a new message comes through. It’s that S.O. person again, the message short and to the point.

To: admin@lyndonlibrary.com From: sylvirus@telecommune.com Subject: birdsofprey Attachments: urgent.xlsx

Think you could use this, if you’re looking for the authoritative list on who’s who in the city. glhf

The file is an excel spreadsheet, unedited and weirdly complete. It’s a list Intella doesn’t make sense off for a while, scrolling through names both familiar and alien. Her brow furrows, and she lines up her evidence in her head, staring at names. She’s only on A, by surname, staring at three familiar ones: Vladimier Andurgor, Ameila Andurgor, Angeline Andurgor.

Angeline.

Ameila’s name carries terminated in the notes, made bold and obvious. The listed reason is unsatisfactory work performance, and Intella cannot fathom a world where Ameila Andurgor does anything less than brilliantly at her work, taking far too much pride in her work for Heron.

For Heron.

Intella freezes as the pieces slide into place.

Terminated – as in fired. For unsatisfactory performance. Ameila always works for Herontesuto, nothing changes that, nothing; she hates the supernatural and pushes for humans above all else, manufactures monsters out of DNA stolen from beings she has no business messing with.

But she was fired, so someone is worse than her.

And Angeline is on the list.

“Angeline works for Heron,” Intella says.

It doesn’t make her feel better.

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How to find and capture ideas for your novel

Joanna Penn

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“What if” questions are often the basis for books.

“Where do you get your ideas from?”

Authors get asked this all the time and some get tired of it, because once you get into the hang of capturing ideas and writing them down, it seems like they just happen by magic.

But I remember back when I was a cubicle slave and used to write technical specifications all day. I didn’t feel creative at all and I certainly didn’t have any ideas.

I had to retrain my brain in order to start writing fiction.

In this article, I’ll explain how to find ideas and how to capture them, plus how to deal with some common worries around ideas.

1. Trust your curiosity

This really is the key. You have to notice what you’re curious about and then lean into those aspects of life.

Curiosity is about what catches your attention.

If you’re in a bookstore, which areas do you go to first? If you’re in a new city, what do you want to do with your time? If you’re sitting in a cafe, why do you notice some people more than others?

We’re surrounded by millions of stimuli, sounds and smells and sights and things happening all the time. But you will notice different things than I would about the world around you, and an idea starts by noticing those things.

If you’re not curious about anything right now, you need to start trying. Think back to a point before ‘real life’ stopped you doing things for the fun of it. What were you curious about when you were younger? What do you like helping your kids with? What do you remember as stand-out memories?

Idea generation is like a muscle, a bit like going to the gym. 

If you walk into a gym now and try to lift some heavy weights, you won’t be able to do it. But if you start with the tiny weights and you start lifting those, then over time, you’ll be able to lift heavier weights. It’s true of ideas and perhaps true of creativity in any form. Start small by noticing what you’re interested in and suddenly you will start getting ideas.

2. Consume in order to produce

If you try to create from an empty mind, you will find yourself ‘blocked’ pretty fast because there’s nothing for your imagination to work with.

You need to fill your creative well in order to write.

I like the idea of the Artist’s Date from Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. Book some time for yourself and go somewhere that will fill your world with something new. An art gallery, a museum, a seminar, or even just time to read a book on a new topic. Take a notebook and write down anything you notice.

Let’s get into a bit more detail about the types of things that can arouse your curiosity and potentially give you ideas.

3. Use real places and research trips

These have been the genesis for most of my own novels.

For example, I will never forget the first time I walked into the Hunterian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons in London. The visceral feeling in my stomach as I looked at the specimen jars filled with body parts sparked the idea behind Desecration.

Put yourself in situations where you’re out of your comfort zone. And when you visit a new place, notice what you’re feeling and consider the questions that arise.

Be sure to take your notebook and write down what you see. It doesn’t have to be reams and reams of information. Little notes and impressions are fine at this stage, and you can combine them later.

4. Use a MacGuffin

In thrillers and mysteries, the MacGuffin is the object that the characters are searching for, and it’s intriguing enough to become the center of the book. The Ark of the Covenant and the Holy Grail are two MacGuffins that have endured in stories for several thousand years through countless re-tellings.

I use MacGuffins in most of my books. For example, on a trip to Budapest, we visited the Basilica and saw the thousand-year-old mummified hand of Saint Istvan. Not many countries place a mummified hand at the center of their most famous monument, so I was fascinated. What if someone stole this important religious and national symbol?

That question became the basis of my novella One Day in Budapest. It’s about the rise of far right nationalists (which is really happening in Hungary) but it’s also about the MacGuffin, the mummified hand of St Istvan.

5. What fascinates you about people?

You will always need characters for your books.

Many characters have an aspect of the writer in them, and if you meet people who would make great characters, then it’s worth writing down the interesting things about them. Although, of course, never portray a character as exactly like the real person.

I’m reading a lot about war photographers at the moment, following my curiosity, even though I don’t have a particular story in mind.

I’ve read Emergency Sex, about people who work in war zones and how they deal with what they see; Hotel Arcadia, about a war photographer who’s in a hotel when it gets torn apart by terrorists, and I listened to Sebastian Junger talk about his own experiences with war photography and filming. Aspects of this research may bubble up in a character at some point. Right now, I’m just filling the creative well and I trust that the story will emerge

6. Use real events

Ben and Lucy are out sailing on the ocean beyond Christchurch, New Zealand. They look to the horizon and see a huge tidal wave bearing down on them …

So begins Risen Gods, my dark fantasy novel co-written with J.Thorn, inspired by the real events of the 2011 Christchurch earthquakes.

New Zealand is on the Pacific Rim of Fire and has a lot of volcanic activity. I also lived there for seven years, so I know the country well.

I wondered what would happen if you lived through one of these natural disasters, then I started to consider a dark fantasy spin on the idea. What if the gods of New Zealand decided to take their land back?

7. Consider ‘What if?’ ideas

“What if” questions are often the basis for books.

The Martian by Andy Weir. What if you got stuck alone on Mars? 50 Shades of Grey by E.L.James. What if you met a sexy billionaire who offered you everything in exchange for something unexpected in the bedroom? The Stand by Stephen King. What if 99% of the population was wiped out in a plague and you were one of the few left?

The Stand is 38 years old, but the post-apocalyptic genre keeps coming back because people really do wonder what would happen if this big disaster happened and you were left with a few survivors. Some ‘what if’ questions will continue to be answered by many books to come … maybe yours will be one of them?

8. Use ideas from quotes

Authors will often cite quotes they have used as ideas in the front of their novels.

The title of my book Destroyer of Worlds comes from the quote, “I am become death, destroyer of worlds,” which is from the Bhagavad Gita, but was also quoted by Oppenheimer at the test of the first atomic bomb.

So that one quote encapsulates ideas about Hindu gods and the power of an atomic bomb, and became the basis for the novel’s plot.

9. Use themes and issues you care about (but don’t preach)

It’s a story, not a lecture or a nonfiction book, but many authors use big societal issues as the basis for their ideas.

For example, there are a lot of novels based on Nazi Germany. All have the same underlying aspect of the horrors of the Holocaust, but the books can end up totally different. Compare Schindler’s Ark, Sophie’s Choice, The Afrika Reich and The Man in the High Castle.

10. Use ideas from other books

“Books are made of books.” Cormac McCarthy

My short story collection, A Thousand Fiendish Angels, is based on Dante’s Inferno. The stories were commissioned by Kobo for the launch of Dan Brown’s book, also called Inferno, a few years ago. Dante’s Inferno is out of copyright, so you can do whatever you like with it, but I turned the ideas into something new.

I made notes on the book, writing down lines I liked or words that resonated. For example, the Minotaur and the Furies, characters from Inferno, ended up in the third story as real characters, and Dis ended up as a setting.

One word of caution. If you take notes from other books, don’t ever copy out entire passages word-for-word, because you may end up accidentally plagiarizing. But certainly you can get ideas from other books, then spin off and write your own version.

11. Make sure you capture your ideas

You won’t remember these sparks of ideas later, I guarantee it, so make sure you capture them somehow.

Use an old-fashioned notebook, or your trusty smartphone, or anything in between. It doesn’t matter, as long as you get them down. I have physical notebooks, usually Moleskine or Leuchtturm brand, always with plain paper. I also use Things app on my iPhone. It’s quite expensive, but I love it. Other people use Evernote or Scrivener.

Then, when you’re considering your next project, you can look through your lists and you’ll find seeds of ideas that will feed into your book.

12. Don’t fall into these common worries about ideas

Finally, there are several recurring issues that come up around ideas, so we’ll tackle them quickly here.

A. What if someone steals my idea?

Ideas are nothing. Execution is everything.

You may have an amazing idea, but it’s nothing unless you turn that into a book that readers might love. Ideas are also abundant. There are always more of them, so don’t obsess about one particular idea, just keep on creating and more will come.

B. What if my idea has been written before?

The truth is that every single idea has been done before and nothing is truly original.

Originality and creativity come from combining several things into something new, and adding your experience into the expression of an idea so it becomes something fresh.

There will always be universal story elements and emotions that resonate with readers. Consider Romeo and Juliet, Twilight, Fifty Shades of Grey, and Titanic. No one would say these are the same stories, and yet, at heart, they are about the relationship between a man and a woman and how they either came together and lived happily ever after, or how they came together and died.

These are iconic love stories. They essentially are the same thing, but yet, they are each so original.

C. How do I choose which idea to work on?

Once you start tuning into your curiosity, you will come up against the ‘problem’ of too many ideas. The most important thing is to keep writing them all down. Then, you can use them in different books, or combine them into multiple story-lines. After all, one idea is never enough for a whole book.

I have hundreds of notes in my ideas folder, but I find that some just keep coming back. Those are the ones to investigate further.

I hope that this has helped you consider new ways to find and track your ideas. I’d love to know your thoughts on the topic.

This article originally appeared at The Creative Penn.

Joanna Penn

Joanna Penn is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling thriller author, creative entrepreneur, podcaster, professional speaker, and travel junkie. For more, visit www.jfpenn.com