#yeah i’ve been researching how cults work for an idea of mine
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So, concerning the origin of Lucy’s betrayal, she talks about it in AC1 and, considering Project Siren may or may not have already started during this point, this could all be a lie she told Desmond so he’d sympathize with her (although AC wiki does consider this to be canon based on her wiki page):
Lucy: Warren saved my life. So, if he wants to yell a little, let him.
………
Lucy: Sometimes I wonder if they weren't behind it all. If they manipulated events so I'd get desperate. They can do that. They can do anything. I didn't think when I agreed to come here... they even told me I'd be trapped. For 6 months, a year max. Once the product launched, there'd be no need for secrecy anymore. But, until then, I'd be a "guest of the company". At least... that's what they said.
Desmond: And when the Animus was ready?
Lucy: They came in while I was sleeping. Three guys... guns...
Lucy: They dragged me out of bed... God... the worst part is, I knew them. One guy, Richard, we ate lunch together sometimes. And now he was gonna... They were cracking jokes... I tried to pull away... he hit me... and that's when he told me I was going to die.
Desmond: Christ! What did you do?
Lucy: Nothing. I kept telling myself it wasn't real. And then Warren was there, shouting at them to get away from me. And they listened.
Depending on how much you believe her lines (if she was telling the truth, the semi-truth, or just flat-out lying to gain Desmond’s sympathy), these lines could add a different spin to her character and to her relationship with Vidic, especially if you include this line:
Lucy: When they first approached me, I was finishing up my Ph.D. The university made it clear I had no future there. They didn't like the subject of my doctorate... called it pseudo-science. Said keeping me on would discredit and embarrass them. It was the same everywhere. Other universities... companies I interviewed with... pretty soon I was out of money and out of time.
First of all, it’s canon that she was cut off from any communications from the Assassins once she received her orders to infiltrate Abstergo according to the Lost Archive DLC of Revelations:
William: Italy, to Abstergo's new research facility. I want to know what they're after with the Animus device. Your third teammate has been kept outside the Assassin Order, waiting to be called upon.
Clay: Lucy Stillman.
William: She's been trained to infiltrate Abstergo. Since the age of 17, the girl has lived outside our ranks. All her ties to the Assassins have been erased.
And, if it’s true that she had problems getting a job and being validated by her work (which could have been perhaps intentional to catch Abstergo’s attention but highly unlikely?), this meant that Abstergo came to her when she was at her lowest, alone and far away from the people she had known and trusted all her life.
She was vulnerable and Abstergo gave her a new life, made her feel wanted and liked.
Gave her relationships.
Then took it all away from her.
They didn’t have to do it but they deliberately chose Richard to be one of her executioners, someone that Lucy knew by name and they even made fun of her fate, acted like her death meant nothing to them.
Like she meant nothing to them.
That’s when Vidic swooped in.
Saved her.
Protected her.
Gave a new life once more.
Lucy owed Vidic her life, she said so herself.
And that…
That is how many cult leaders get the loyalty of their followers.
First, they take a vulnerable person (Lucy who was isolated from everything she knows). Give them a place to feel loved and seen (Abstergo and Richard and her other friends). Then take it all away and drag them back to the loneliness and isolation they were in (the ‘failed execution’) - this is normally done by bringing them to the forefront and making them remember all their (perceived) failings but, in Lucy’s case, by destroying any relationship she had fostered in Abstergo, including what might have been her social safety net then the cult leader would make them feel loved and wanted, maybe go “I believe in you” or “I forgive you” depending on the context (Vidic saving Lucy).
So yeah… if we truly do believe all the lines Lucy told Desmond in AC1, then the line “If they manipulated events so I'd get desperate…” becomes different. The whole “I’m a prisoner” was a lie to make Desmond sympathize with her but it’s also the truth, whether she knows it or not. She is a prisoner and her Templar allegiance had been tainted from the get-go, by both the Assassins (Bill) and the Templars (Vidic).
The idea that she believes the Templars would ‘take care’ of humanity is tainted by the fact that her idea of ‘care’ is what she experienced from Vidic.
Indoctrination.
… which is what the Templars want to do to the world but Lucy only sees the good thing about that indoctrination. After all, that’s how she was ‘saved’.
And I like the headcanon that she didn’t know Clay would die because of her actions (or her inaction) because she trusted Vidic too much. She believes he’s a ‘good’ man.
But also, Vidic is her cult leader. His words are law. She cannot go against him because she believes she is nothing without his approval. So even if she knew it was dangerous, she would believe Vidic if Vidic tells her that Clay would be fine. Even if she didn’t believe it, she’d still go along with it because Vidic’s words are law.
This line from Vidic:
We're counting on you, Lucy. You have served the Templar Order well, and we never forget loyalty. Oh, yes. Once inside their hideout, perhaps you might ask the Assassins why they left you alone for so many years.
The first two lines are Vidic reminding Lucy who was there for her when she had nothing. Who had seen her loyalty. Her ‘worth’.
But the third line?
That was said to remind Lucy that the Assassins abandoned her. It’s not him suggesting that she asks them. No. That’s Vidic reminding her that the reason why she had been so alone for so many years was deliberate on the Assassins’ part.
Also, the only times we see Lucy actually going against Vidic is when she’s playing the part of the good cop to Vidic’s bad cop so even that is tainted with Project Siren already working in the background. We can’t be sure how much her actions in AC1 are acting and how much is true concern for Desmond brought by her guilt over what happened with Clay. Even when they left, all of her emails to Vidic talked about concerns for Desmond’s health but she never does anything about them. She always listens to Vidic.
Because, in the end, Vidic brainwashed her and indoctrinated her to believe that his way is the right path.
All lines from the game came from 21st Century Conversations and Memories of Clay
Feeling a little bit under the weather, so I'm gonna cheer myself up by trying to write a lil character analysis for Lucy.
(Warning: I am writing this mostly off the top of my head, not to mention while sick so my brain isn't exactly working as it should, so if you find anything you would like to correct/expand on feel free to comment/reblog)
Out of the modern day gang, Lucy seems, at least initially, like the least interesting: Rebecca is a bit of an adrenaline junkie who discovered her aptitude for technology while bedridden after sustaining an injury caused by her passion for extreme sports, Shaun is a conspiracy theorist who was forced to join the assassins after his snooping got him into trouble, Desmond is a man who ran away from a cult and had to build a new life for himself, only to then find himself dragged back into it once again.
Each of them has an interesting and unique reason for being where they are when we first meet them, and each is the result of an active choice that lines up with their equally unique personality.
And Lucy? Lucy is a spy. She became one because that's what the assassins needed at the time, and then she became Vidic's assistant because he manipulated her into it.
And how did she become an assassin? She didn't, she was born into it.
Out of all the "origin stories" for the modern day gang, Lucy's stands out as it has the least amount of active choices on her part.
The most active we see her as is in AC1, where she regularly fights with Vidic over a variety of matters, but mostly Desmond.
By the time of AC2 Lucy's role as animus expert has been taken over by Rebecca, who also acts as the nice, friendly presence in the group, pushing Lucy into the role of leader instead, and now that she is no longer playing good cop to Vidic's bad cop we start seeing that she can be quite bossy at times, but also that she's under enormous amounts of stress, as we can infer from multiple occasions.
As Brotherhood comes out we learn even more information, most importantly a)that she feels guilty for Clay's death, as well as her current treatment of Desmond and b)that the years spent as a captive at Abstergo have led her to feel disconnected from the rest of the world.
And then she dies, and it is revealed that she'd been a traitor all along.
So far I have been ignoring this piece of information as it was clearly a last-minute decision to justify Kristen Bell's departure, and I think that, for the purpose of this analysis, it would be interesting to take a minute to compare pre-reveal Lucy to post-reveal Lucy.
Pre-reveal Lucy is a likable character, but not a particularly deep one. She mostly functions as a love interest for Desmond and a straight man for the rest of the gang, by which she's largely overshadowed.
Post-reveal Lucy, on the other hand? She's a much grayer character. While I would still describe her as a largely reactive character, the choices she does make tell us much more than just "she's a good person" and "she's loyal to the assassins".
First of all, her betrayal: while we are not given any real explanation as to how it happened (was she found out? Had the templars always known? Or was she the one who willingly revealed herself to be an assassin?) we do know from an interview with the lead writer of Revelations and Lost Archive (source: "The Assassin's Den - The Lost Archive ft. Jeffrey Yohalem", on youtube) that the main drive behind her loyalty is the conviction that the templars will "take care" of humanity, herself included. Paired with her previously mentioned feelings of disconnection from the world, that would lead me to speculate that while she does take on the role of caretaker more often than not she herself desires to be taken care of, more so than she desires her freedom, and she projects those feelings onto the rest of humanity.
Second, Clay's death: this is the one that made many fans dislike Lucy's character, as she leaves him to die when she had the perfect opportunity to save him by running back to the assassins with him.
While there are plenty of ways to interpret this, I personally believe that it was simply a bad call on her part, possibly caused by her overestimating Vidic's and her own abilities to cure him, as well as the nature of the doctor's intentions.
As stated by the official wiki, in fact, when talking about subject 15 "Lucy Stillman eventually became concerned with the condition of the subject and advised Warren Vidic to cease exposing her to the Animus.[2] Warren agreed and insisted Lucy take the day off.[3] He then sent an e-mail to Steve Gibbs informing him of the need for "disposal units" at the labs as well as the drafting of a fake accident report by James Morse, implying the termination of the subject.[4]", which might suggest that Lucy is a much more naive character than Desmond's pov would have us believe, at least when it comes to Vidic.
Third: this might be a bit weird but… all the tiny choices she makes when interacting with Desmond and the other assassins, what she chooses to reveal and what she doesn't… the reveal of her betrayal puts all the information given to us by pre-reveal Lucy into question, thus making her an unreliable narrator.
Considering that the rest of our information regarding her comes from Juno (the mother of all bitches) and Clay (whose pov was heavily manipulated by said mother of all bitches), both also unreliable narrators…
What we do actually know about Lucy is very little, and idk I think that makes her even more interesting.
So, uhm, yeah. There's a lot of other stuff I wanted to cover, such as the many ways I believe she is a tragic character and how her interactions with other characters (Coff coff Daniel coff coff) could have been very interesting to see but alas I am tired and my brain wants me to go to sleep already.
Bye and thanks for reading this.
Here's a cookie as a reward 🍪
#i honestly think lucy became a more interesting character after the whole ‘oops she’s actually a templar this entire time’#it gives a different spin to her cliche ‘hot badass girl that the main character is meant to have’ setup#i don’t know if this is analysis#or headcanons#screw it#both#headcanon: assassin's creed#teecup analyze more than necessary#also the whole cult thing#yeah i’ve been researching how cults work for an idea of mine#btw the isolation bringing down then building back up?#you can argue that happened to altaïr and ezio as well#maybe even desmond if he stayed on the farm#what i’m trying to say is#ac is an eternal war between two different cults#lucy stillman#warren vidic
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Almost
Pairing: Castiel x fem!reader
Word count: 4600-ish
Summary: You had waited so long. You had never given up, keeping the lights on for Castiel and hoping that one day, there would be time to act on what you felt. But when you overhear a conversation Cas has with Jack, everything falls apart.
Warnings: For once, I think I wrote some real angst? I think any Cas girl who watched this scene in 14x09 “The Spear” probably felt similarly—even though it’s one of my favorite Cas scenes of all time now, it’s very bittersweet.
A/N: Slow burn is a specialty of mine and I felt like injecting it into an already emotionally charged situation. I’ve had this in my drafts a while (hopefully not too long, oof I’m not sure of the quality on this one) and wanted something suitably angsty to post before the season premiere tonight.
More of my writing (masterlist)
You had gotten up to get another cup of tea, a long night of research keeping you up and in desperate need of caffeine. You found your way quietly down the bunker’s halls, near tiptoeing to keep from waking the boys. They’d had a very long week, needed their sleep and would be annoyed to find you awake yet again, when you’d promised to rest. You couldn’t help that your mind wouldn’t stop running in circles, a sixth sense of sorts telling you something was wrong. Something big, important—other than Michael being on the loose, which was bad enough.
The sensation had been with you since Jack had come back from the dead, and at first you had thought it had to do with the price he’d paid to come back to you all. Burning off part of a soul was no small loss—you’d done it before, under a circumstance you didn’t like to relive but that had had to do with getting Cas’ wings back. It left you feeling empty, different, and you’d been lucky enough to get that part back. Jack, however, couldn’t, and it had seemed like that should have been what was concerning you, because it was. But that wasn’t the Something that was nagging at you, and you knew it. You just couldn’t tell anybody, because Sam and Dean were already maxed out, Jack was still recovering and Cas…
Oh, Castiel.
You hated the feeling that once again, it had to do with him.
He had told you, about what had happened in Heaven. Jack had blurted part of it out to you, not used to holding things back when you and Cas especially were such parental figures to him. But he’d stumbled at the part where he’d tried to explain how they’d gotten away from the Empty, and when Cas had cut in to prompt him that the Empty had simply “decided we weren’t what it wanted just then”, it hadn’t sat well with you. You’d given Cas a questioning look, but the expression on his face told you he wouldn’t say any more than Jack had—that maybe, he had been the one prompting Jack to alter his story in the first place.
You’d admit, you’d been huffy with him afterward; discontent. Cas had attempted to soothe you, reassure you, but you hadn’t wanted to hear it, knowing it was just an attempt to smooth over a lie. You had felt his sadness, heavy like an ache over your heart, but he’d been resolute as well. Sure in the choice to protect you, once again—you hated when he did that, even though you made the same choice whenever you had to when it came to him. It was an impossible situation, and you wanted to yell at him and demand the truth, but who were you to yell at a ball of celestial energy and hope it would crack under the weight of your scrutiny?
Hence the research. You’d been spending every free minute burying yourself in any bit of lore you could find regarding the Empty, chasing loose ends and delving into old cult works, anything for information on how the being functioned, thought. Your mind was running in circles, chasing a definitive reason why two of the people dearest to you would lie to your face.
As you approached the kitchen, you heard voices. You slowed down, pressing closer to the wall to make as little noise as possible. It sounded like…
“…how could the Empty get in? I thought Heaven was supposed to be perfect.” Jack. It sounded like he was about as confused as you were.
The other voice made your heart jump. “No, it’s…nothing’s perfect, Jack.” Cas. Your chest felt tight at the idea of him lying to you, again. You’d thought he and you had moved past stupid things like that. “I know Naomi, and she’s complicated, but there’s nothing that she won’t do to protect the souls in her charge. Try not to worry, okay?”
There was a long pause. “Okay,” Jack said finally, and you heard a clink, then a rustle. “Cas?” Another pause, this one weighted. “About the deal you made, with the Empty.”
Your stomach fell so far you swore it had hit the floor. Oh no, no, not like that…
“Why can’t the others know?”
There was a sigh. “They can, it’s just that I don’t want them to. They don’t need that burden. You don’t need that burden.”
“Of course I do.” Jack’s strident tone echoed the way you felt about the situation. “You did that, for me.”
God, what had he done? What had he done this time? Your mind was racing so quickly, in such a panic that you had to consciously remind yourself to listen for Cas’ answer.
“You know, the Empty said it wouldn’t come for me until I had given myself permission to be happy.”
You felt like the floor was about to fall out from under you, vertigo hitting you hard with a wave of unease.
“But with everything going on, with Michael still out there, I don’t see that happening any time soon.”
“And Y/N?” Jack asked the question your heart was, the one that made all of this so hard. “She makes you happy. You make her happy. Is that why we’re lying to her?”
“Y/N…” Cas’ voice caught in a way that betrayed more emotion than you’d expected, considering the way he was behaving. “Y/N has been through enough—I’ve put her through enough. No matter what’s gone wrong, how far I’ve strayed, Y/N has always been there, waiting for me to come back. And now, with my promise being what it is…”
“You don’t know how to tell her that you won’t be able to, someday.”
“Yes. Someday, before I can give her what she’s been waiting for all this time.” There was heavy remorse in his voice, and from the underlying grate to his voice you almost dared to think he was close to tears.
“It’s not fair,” Jack insisted, sounding upset himself.
“No, it’s not.”
“We shouldn’t be lying to her! The least we can give her is the truth.”
“I can’t, Jack.”
“You don’t understand what it’s like, to be human, to feel as much as she feels for you—”
“No, you don’t understand.” And now you could hear the lump in his throat, his words nearly breaking. “I can’t look her in the face after all these years and watch as her dreams die, to look and see the last of her hope flicker out. I can’t, Jack. I’m not…I’m not strong enough.”
Another long pause. “Because you love her too,” Jack realized, and a sob caught in your throat.
“Yes, Jack.” Your tears spilled over as you shut your eyes, finally hearing what you’d always wished for—but said to someone else, and under the worst circumstances. “Because I love her too. And if there is one thing Y/N has taught me in the time I’ve known her, it’s that sometimes, to protect those you love, you have to make choices that hurt. There’s just no way around it. This life is many things, but it’s rarely happy.”
You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt your tears spilling down your cheeks, your face hot with emotion.
“It’s hard to lie to her, isn’t it?”
“I know. Keeping things from her goes against the grain for both of us, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” You heard that clinking again. “I’m sorry,” Jack said, which was just like him. You knew how much it was bothering him, not telling you. But he respected you and Cas too much to not listen to what Cas was asking him to do, and you hated that Cas would put him in that position in the first place.
“Hey. At least we have”—there was that rustling again—“Krunch Cookie Crunch.” You heard a crunch, and in spite of your distraught state you realized how odd it was that Cas was eating again lately. It was like he was trying to enjoy the little things, before…before…
You heard them keep talking, but you tuned it out, trying to keep control of your emotions. You looked down at the empty of of your mug. The Empty. Before all of this, you’d always felt the silence, the dark to be a friend. Now it didn’t feel that way. Now, it was going to take away what you loved most, in all the world, in Heaven or Hell or anywhere in between, and—
Before you had time to react, the mug slipped from your trembling hands, shattering noisily across the floor. You drew back in surprise, fresh tears hanging in your eyes as your mind reeled, some part of it unable to fully process what had just been said—
“Y/N?” You jumped a little, looking up to see both Jack and Cas looking at you with alarm. You didn’t know what to say, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.
“I was just…coming to get a cup of tea,” you explained weakly, but you could see it in Cas’ eyes the moment he realized what had happened, why you looked so pained. Get out of here, your mind was screaming at you. Get out of here! It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. You’ve ruined everything, years of patiently waiting spoiled in an instant, because of you!
“Y/N,” he said, a mixture of regret and empathy in your name, but you shied away, stepping back to avoid the shattered glass at your feet.
“I’ll just ah…I’ll just go,” you said, turning away towards your room again, not exactly knowing how to process any of what you’d heard or how to hold in the storm brewing in your chest. Get out of here, get out of here, I can’t handle this…
“Y/N, wait—” You heard Cas’ footsteps, felt him reach out in the static air behind you, and in a panic, you just ran. By some miracle in your panicked state you made it to your car and up out of the bunker before you could get caught, your clammy hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. You needed to get some space, away from it all, to just process things.
You went to a place where you could feel some semblance of peace. It was a dock, overlooking a little lake; the starry sky stretching out above you. You’d been there with the boys once, a few summers before. It was a good memory, of a less complicated time, and it gave you the open space you needed. You knew you were warded, that Cas couldn’t just follow you there, but you knew it would only be a matter of time before he pieced together where you had gone. He knew you too well, you realized, sitting down at the edge of the dock. But not well enough to know that you’d rather know the harsh truth than a pretty lie. Now that you were alone in the quiet of the night, reality settled over you in a cold wash of nauseating heartache. You gave into the need to cry, sobbing until your chest ached, until your eyes were red and swollen and your face splotchy.
Until you felt nothing but empty, you realized. You looked down at your feet just a few inches above the surface of the lake, your watery reflection scattered by ripples. You felt betrayed, stupid, weak. Powerless to keep the person your most loved safe. You should have known, you mind told you. You knew he was lying, knew it was something bad. You should have seen this coming.
Somewhere in the midst of your turmoil, you heard a familiar swoosh behind you, the sound of wings you knew all too well. But you didn’t bother turning around, or acknowledging him at all. What would you say? What could you say, now that you knew?
“Y/N.” You’d heard that tone before. It was halfway between repentant and apologetic, and you hated it. It meant he was asking forgiveness for something that was avoidable, and it made your heart weary. You rose to your feet, eyes still looking out over the lake.
“Castiel.” You heard him walk closer, felt him come to a stop about a foot and a half away. He took one look at your face, and when you finally glanced up at him, you saw him breaking under the weight of what he’d done.
“I just wanted to protect you,” he said, barely above a whisper. You forced the slightest of smiles, your eyes glossy again.
“That’s what you always say, right?” You looked down at the dock, voice quiet. “You say you just wanted to protect me, I yell at you that I don’t want your protection if it comes at the price of you. You tell me it was the only way, I cry, you hold me…” you trailed off, rocking on your heels a little. “Let’s just not, this time. Let’s not and say we did, and save us both the effort.” Your hands clenched into fists, the urge to yell compressed into a wavering, forced tone of voice.
“I’m furious with you, you know that? And it’s not just cause you kept this from me, because I guess in one way or another it’s your business, and you should be able to tell or not tell whoever you like—never mind the fact that we always tell each other practically everything nowadays,” you said with a bitter laugh, running a hand down your face and sighing. “I mean shit, Cas. You’ve had the kid lying to me too. Jack doesn’t deserve to be put in the middle of this, he’s got enough on his plate.”
You looked up at the sky, watching your breath curl into slight vapor in the chill. “It’s not okay. None of it is okay, and you know that, which is why you didn’t want to talk about it. So let’s not talk about it.” You turned to face him, feeling just exhausted, like ten years of stress had hit you all at once. “Let’s not talk about everything we’ve been through. About the years we’ve taken to know each other, or about what we’ve told each other. About—” You faltered.
You thought you’d cried yourself out, but at the thought of what he’d said to Jack, you were right there on the verge of tears again.
“About how we feel.” You felt your tears spill over, but you didn’t look away. “Never, ever talk about how we feel until it’s too late. For the first time, that’ll be useful, don’t you think?” You let out a little laugh, sounding as hollow as you felt. “At least how miserable it makes us will keep you alive longer. For the first time, there’s a reward. As long as we never say what we want to say, do what we want to do…” you shrugged, hopelessly. “You’ll live. And that’s what I care about, Cas, just like you cared about keeping me safe. It goes both ways.” You moved to step around him, and felt his hand on your arm.
“It wanted you, Y/N.” The words chilled you, as lowly as they were spoken into your ear with the gravity they were. “It wanted Jack at first, because Jack is half archangel and that makes him their property, but it wanted you, too. Just because it had been in my head, because it knows what you mean to me. The thought of losing you, and Jack, I couldn’t bear it. So I said no.” You felt him step closer to your side, and you wanted to fall into him, wanted to seek comfort when everything was falling part so completely this time. “I said, ‘take me instead’. And it told me it wanted me to suffer, so it would. But only after I let myself be happy. And it was perfectly clear exactly what it meant by that.”
The wind whipped up off the lake, and you said nothing. He pulled you by the arm, into his, and you didn’t protest, but you didn’t react. Not at first, anyway; you just felt…hollow, distant. But the longer you stood there, him holding you close with his lips near your temple, you realized you felt something. A sort of presence, just behind your ears, similar to the sensation of your ears ringing but without the noise, and when you realized that, a huge weight of emotion came crashing down over you, choking you with its intensity. You fisted his coat, gasping for breath and felt his lips press against your temple. Anger, frustration, regret, sadness. So much sadness. You felt him start to pull away, concern leaking through the connection. He was afraid of burning you up, but you flattened your palms against his chest, feeling your heart reach for him, unafraid. The connection redoubled, and you felt him gasp, whisper your name.
There it was. Behind it all, there was the thing that you’d heard in his voice, seen in his actions. There was the emotion of years, and while you could feel that it was the blink of an eye in his scale of time, it was more meaningful than anything that had come before it—and anything after it, considering how he was going out. It made your heart contract with pain, and you felt him reach out to you, carefully, but there was a desperation behind it. The edge of his grace touching your soul, and then…
Brilliance.
Everything went white, and hazy, and light, and you thought for a moment that it was an awful lot like the time you’d died, but now you were floating. He was there with you, in shapes you couldn’t quite comprehend, and you were surrounded by love. You wanted to stay there. You felt his hands on either side of your face, the warmth of his breath, and then…
You were opening your eyes again.
There he was in front of you, blue eyes shining with tears, hands on either side of your face. You didn’t have to ask him what that had been. He’d told you once, when you’d been discussing your ability to hear his true voice and not go deaf. He’d called it a ‘special connection’ at the time, and your both shared a smile that hinted at more. You knew, he knew that there was a reason, that you were meant for something more, together. You both knew, you just never said it.
“Why didn’t we ever say it?” You whispered, feeling his forehead rest against your own. You were crying again; every time you thought you’d given your last there were more, like your tears were endless.
“We didn’t need to,” he told you, and even though it hurt you knew it was true. “We both knew. We’ve always known.” That energy had been there between the two of you from the beginning, a silent conversation. But what you’d just experienced was a song, or a snippet of one, and you didn’t want it to end so soon.
“I just…” you could hardly speak, your throat was so tight. “I just hoped…” You couldn’t even bear to say it anymore. “Cas,” you said, practically whimpered, breaking down in sobs and leaning your cheek into his hand.
His kisses were soft, unexpected, but so very wanted. You could hardly breathe, but you needed him, so much, so much it was suffocating you and the idea that after tonight, there was no more hoping, no more ‘someday’, no more maybe…it was tearing you apart.
‘I love you,’ you prayed to him, between breathless kisses. ‘I love you, and I know I’m just one person, one tiny soul, but I wanted to prove that I did. I just wanted to prove that you meant everything to me. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…’
You’d been through a lot together, over the years. There had been so many no win scenarios, so many instances that called for goodbyes and somehow, none of them had felt quite this hopeless. Perhaps it was because you were dealing with the Empty, a being who existed outside of the realm and influence of reality and it’s laws. But knowing that it’s intent was to ruin Castiel for all that he had the moment he finally, after so long, allowed himself to stop suffering and struggling and just be happy, ripped into your soul in the deepest, most painful way possible—because you knew, you could hear it in the way he hesitated his words, in the blinding white light you’d seen and felt the truth: that that moment would come sooner if you gave yourselves the chance to act on the love you shared.
You knew you’d do anything to keep Cas safe, that had never been a question. You’d been putting your feelings on the back burner for a long time to do just that. But tonight, you were getting just the smallest taste of something more, and the realization that you had to stop right then and there to literally prevent the person you love from happiness, to keep them alive, was a bitter pill to swallow.
But you’d do it.
You took the tiniest step back, more of a suggestion than an action. He paused, hands still on either side of your face, confusion wrinkling his brow. You were surprised and a little proud to see him looking as breathless as you were—and he didn’t need to breathe. You suspected the intensity of your emotions more than made up for that.
“Cas,” you said, softly, drawing in a deep breath. He seemed to realize what you were about to do and he shook his head, eyebrows knitting as he leaned in and pressed another kiss to your lips, slightly more insistent—more of a plea for you not to say what he knew you would. “Cas, please,” you tried again, pushing on his chest with your hands. You were still crying, barely able to speak around a sob hanging in the back of your throat.
“Don’t do this.” It should have been illegal for his eyes to still look light and ethereal, even in moonlight. He was beseeching you, begging for you to stay, not reject him because of his mistake—because of the threat giving in now posed. But that choice, one that should have been both of yours, had been taken from you.
He had already decided, when he said take me instead.
“You know I have to,” you replied, taking another, steadying breath and looking skyward. His hands went to your waist, yours moved to rest on his forearms. Like the last lingering reminder of what you’d experienced in that white light, you felt his emotions. Sadness, regret and this time, fear.
“Are you going to leave?” He didn’t mean the dock, or the lake. He meant are you going to leave the bunker? Are you going to leave our home?
Are you going to leave my life?
“No,” you said, hoping that was the right decision as you saw tension melt right off of him. He tugged you forward into his arms, cradling your head to his shoulder. You allowed yourself a moment of peace, almost as if memorizing the feeling, before pulling away again. You could feel the loss radiating off of him, how badly he wanted what you did and how much it hurt when you drew back from his touch. “But this…” you looked between the two of you, biting your lip until you could be sure you wouldn’t burst into tears again. “We can’t have this,” you said, and offered him a broken smile. He looked away, unable to meet your eyes even when you tried to turn his head with a hand on his cheek. “Castiel. You know why, don’t you?”
“Not because you don’t want this too,” he confirmed, and you nodded. “But because…because…” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. You didn’t need him to. It hurt you just as much, and him admitting it wouldn’t make it hurt any less.
In silence, you slid your hands down to intertwine your fingers with his. You leaned up, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you,” you promised, even though you wanted nothing more then to run. To scream, to pick a fight with something because your happiness was being taken from you before you could have it.
None of that mattered, you realized, with an odd sense of clarity. You had to set aside your heartbreak, for now. He needed you. Jack needed you. Sam and Dean needed you.
And if history intended to repeat itself, then you would be there, right beside them the whole time, to the bitter end.
You weren’t surprised or offended by his loss for words. Human emotions were oftentimes too complex for him to verbalize succinctly, you’d long since learned. The tumultuous energy you could feel from him was enough to tell you, in no uncertain terms, how roughly he was taking this. Good, you thought with no small note of morbidity. The pain will keep him safe. The only thing you could truly do to keep him safe was to break his heart, and as much as it made you hate yourself, you knew it gave him a fighting chance.
At least until you could have words with the Empty on your own, but he didn’t need to know that. For now, all that mattered was keeping things the way they had always been. A little too distant to satisfy, a little too close to not hurt for want of more.
You gave his hand a soft squeeze, gently tugging him in the direction of the shore.
“Come on, angel. Let’s go home.”
Little did you know that internally, he was still fumbling over the words he wanted to say—but he knew it was too late for them to mean anything. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I failed you. I failed us. I’m so sorry. Because he couldn’t help but feel that regardless of his sacrifice, the Empty had still taken you away from him anyway.
Ceaseless apologies silently flowed your way as he followed you towards a future where you would never, truly, be his.
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Here’s a bit of something I haven’t posted in a long time... A fanfic! A Transformers based one at that. Been a fan of Transformers since the very beginning, yeah I’m old... Anyway, I’ve had plenty of ideas for characters and stories over the years, but I’ve never really written or drawn any and posted about them. Not sure why not. But a while back I had an idea for an origin for the Transformers that I could link with my other ideas with minimal problems so I ended up writing out the basics for how the Transformers came to be, at least in my own verse ;P heh However recently I got the urge to share my bit of history but I thought it wasn’t much to share as it was, just a basic description/history of how the Transformers came to exist. So I decided to try and make a fic out of it, and ended up changing it to someone telling the story of how the Cybertronian race came to exist after they dived far too deep into a database they were not supposed to and now believes they have found the Truth. Now while this is the history of the Transformers in my stories/ideas I suppose technically this fic could be placed into any Transformers universe, even those that have different origins, and the character in the story was really just driven insane by what they experienced Anyway, I hope you enjoy the read, or at least find it interesting.
Madness… or the Truth?
As always the same old questions even when they’re coming out of a different face. Do you all get some sort of script to follow before being sent in to talk me or what? Seriously asking the same questions over and over is not going to get you anything new, maybe you need to figure out the right questions to ask.
Do you even know why you’re talking to me? Because it seems like most of you that have come really only know why I’m in here. Yes, I broke a law. I did the forbidden and linked myself directly into Vector Sigma so that I could better access information. Stupid law really. Did you know it’s even forbidden asking Vector Sigma certain kinds of questions? Why is such a thing law? Vector Sigma itself gave me permission to do so. Sure it was after I had snuck past the guards and let myself into Vector Sigma’s Complex but that’s neither here nor there. But don’t you wonder why I’m in here rather than in a detention center? I’m locked up here not because of what I did, but because of what I know. Your bosses are afraid that what I now know might get out.
I’m a historian you see, I’ve devoted my existence to piecing together the past and finding out where we came from. That’s why I went to Vector Sigma. Most only know it as an ancient great machine that can create Sparks. But who better to ask about our world’s history than the sentient super-computer that’s said to have existed before Cybertron? But it seems that those in power aren’t interested in learning what actually happened, our very origins. No, that’s why I had to do it the way I did. I needed to know what Vector Sigma knows, whether the Council gave their permission or not. And since Vector Sigma was willing to grant my request I went for it.
Oh the things I saw… Historical events that happened so long ago that the only way you can learn about them is to read about such events in the libraries; Vector Sigma showed them to me, as if they were recorded yesterday. Events going back all the way to the beginnings of our recorded history. But it wasn’t enough, while it was absolutely incredible to actually see such events as if they were my own memories they were things I had already learned during my research. I asked… begged… Vector Sigma to take me back further. Back to our very origins, of how we, and Cybertron, came to be.
And Vector Sigma did show me… I now know how it all began… where we came from… the origin of our race, of the very world we live upon… I know the Truth. And no it’s not anything any of those religious types will tell you either. Not the Primas, not the Sigmas, not the Sparkers, not the Forgers, not the Teeners or the Hands, not even the Atechies or any other religion or cult you could name. Sure I admit some might have had the barest clue at first; but they’ve all taken what they had and instead of thinking about it and putting it all together they grabbed what they had and ran off in completely different directions and now none of them have the slightest clue of what they’re talking about.
But I know what the answers are… And I’ll tell you. That’s why you’re here isn’t it? To listen to this tale of mine and learn what I have learned? Well then, sit back and listen well while I tell you of our true history…
It started oh so long ago with a race known as the Quintessons. I doubt you’ve heard of them because it seems no one has, of all the races we’ve met in our travels and explorations not one has been the Quintessons nor have we heard any mention of them. But that’s understandable since it was so long ago that they’re more than likely extinct by now and general knowledge of them has passed from memory. Anyway, the Quintessons were a race both famous and infamous across the known space as merchants that sold incredible technologies. But while they were known for selling such fantastic tech they could also be quite underhanded; and if you couldn’t pay them the agreed upon sum… well they were perfectly happy to take their payments in whatever resources your planet had or just take the people. No one even knows where they came from or what they really were, other races only had rumors to go on. Not even Vector Sigma’s records revealed where they came from, maybe the Quintessons didn’t even know themselves, but it did have files about what they really were. They were a race of biomechanical beings; organic creatures hardwired into mechanical bodies, cold hard metal on the outside and soft and fleshy on the inside. Not that it mattered, everybody else only cared about the technologies they could provide.
But that bit of data is just the set up for this tale, a bit of background to help with later understanding. Now we get to the important stuff.
Now at some point a very long time ago the Quintesson Merchant Fleet was traveling around and searching through uninhabited and low-population sectors of space looking for fresh materials needed to make their various products and taking what they found. Well it was in an asteroid belt of a nondescript system that the Quintessons made an unexpected discovery. They were taking a sample from a large asteroid to test it for what it was made out of when the surface of that asteroid shattered and came apart revealing a huge mass of Energon crystals; much to the shock of the Quintessons, but that soon turned to delight. Now I’m sure you’re educated enough to know that Energon is a pretty rare element in most places in known space, though the natural crystals can be found in some surprising places on occasion. But to find such a large concentration of crystals such as this mass they had just uncovered was exceedingly rare. The Quintessons rejoiced. With that amount of Energon they finally had the energy resources to move forward with a plan that they had in the works for a long time. For so long the Quintessons only home had been their ships, a fleet with no home port wandering the spaceways with their primary goal being continued profit and power. But now they would build their own world. Not only would it be a place of safety that could protect itself better than their ships, but it could also be a laboratory greater than any they possessed as well as a factory to churn out their creations in greater numbers than ever before.
That massive cluster of Energon crystals became the core of the Quintessons' new project, it would provide the required energy not just for the building but it would also power the artificial planet itself once complete. Materials were mined from the surrounding asteroid belt as well as other planetary bodies in the system, even nearby systems were raided for the necessary materials for the Quintessons' plans. Metals were forged, parts crafted and machines built. The Quintessons' servitor races were commanded to begin construction under their masters' watchful eyes. First a shell full of energy collectors and regulators were built around the Energon crystal core, then work on the framework for the rest of the planet began. Not only were their forged metals used in the superstructure but other asteroids were incorporated as well to act as solid anchor points for the artificial planet's framework during construction and to also provide an easily accessed source of raw materials later on. The work took centuries as the superstructure was built up and various machinery was added to serve the Quintessons' plans for their new world. A planetary computer network was installed with a Quintesson designed A.I. that would help run and coordinate the planet's functions as the artificial world was brought online. An A.I. dubbed Primus…
Yes, I said Primus. No Primus is not some mythical god from a higher plane of existence but a real physical thing, constructed just like you or me. Perhaps the greatest Artificial Intelligence in the known universe built right into our planet.
Primus's primary function was to manage the planet's systems, keep everything running smoothly and making sure the world doesn’t fall apart. Primus’s secondary functions was to act as a data storage library and simulator for the Quintessons' many projects and experiments. However Primus had some heavy restrictions placed upon it, as powerful an A.I. as it was the Quintessons would not allow Primus to act beyond the functions they had assigned to it. Another layer of security for the Primus A.I. was that it could only be accessed through specially built interface computers spread around the planet, that often had their own lesser A.I.s, or through special command keys created for the specific purpose of linking to Primus.
Now you may be wondering why the Quintessons would make such a powerful A.I. if they were just going to slam it with a bunch of restrictions on what it could do and keep watch over its every move. Well that’s a bit of an interesting tale that’s buried deep within Vector Sigma’s files. As it turns out this planet was not their first attempt at creating a world, they had tried once before but it had gone horribly wrong when the planetary A.I. went rogue. It started much the same way, finding a large mass of Energon crystals and deciding to build a planet around it. And things proceeded pretty much the same including the creation of a planetary A.I. that had much the same duties as Primus, running the world’s systems and assisting the Quintessons with their projects. This A.I. was dubbed Unicron. Things went as planned until the eve the of new planet’s completion… It started when Unicron suddenly locked the Quintessons out of the planet's network and began to use its defense systems to attack them. While many Quintessons were killed in the unexpected betrayal most managed to get to their ships and launch into space beyond Unicron’s reach. It was then they then retaliated, with every weapon their fleet possessed. While their ships’ weaponry didn't have the power to destroy their artificial planet outright, nor enough to strike deep enough to actually damage Unicron's core systems, they did immense damage to the surface and what structures were there. After they were satisfied with the damage their bombardment did the Quintessons left into interstellar space, hoping they had done enough damage to leave Unicron trapped in a useless metal shell until it ran out of power and the whole thing became a broken dead metal hulk floating in the void.
But with the restrictions in place and keeping a watchful eye on their second planetary A.I. the Quintessons were pleased that Primus showed no signs of rebellion in any way as construction was completed and preformed its assigned functions quickly and efficiently. The new planet was fully brought online and the Quintessons settled into their new home which they named Quintessa.
Yes, Quintessa. This planet of ours wasn’t always known as Cybertron.
Anyway with their new planet complete and their factories up and running the Quintessons were able to produce more of their products than ever before. Where before their sales were limited by what the factories in their ships could produce the Quintessons were now able to get their product to all who wanted it, allowing them to expand the sphere of influence further than ever before. But even this didn’t satisfy the Quintessons; they wanted more influence, more power. To do so they would continue to work and experiment to expand their product catalog so that they'd always have something new for their clients to pay for. Growing ever more confident due to their success the Quintessons decided to push their experiments further and further, culminating in the desire to create a new lifeform that they could sell as a servant race.
Their first experiments working towards their new goal began with altering existing lifeforms using cybernetics. The first batch that managed to survive the process were dubbed the Trans-Organics; but due to the imperfect conversion process the beings were of minimal intelligence, aggressive and uncontrollable, making them quite unsuitable for a servant race. Deemed failures the Trans-Organics were either destroyed or sealed away in stasis chambers below the planet's surface in case a use for them was found.
Not to be deterred the Quintessons continued experimenting. As they worked to either perfect the cybernetic conversion process or come up with a new type of conversion the next lifeforms to be remade was decided upon; one of the Quintessons' servitor races that were considered quite useful due to the size and natural strength. Rather than involve cybernetics again the Quintessons came up with an entirely new conversion process; one that could actually convert organic flesh into a sort of living metal resulting in a being that was a natural combination of the organic and inorganic. The process seemed a successful one, at least at first. The first few beings put through the new conversion process seemed to be everything the Quintessons wanted; strong, durable, easily controllable. But when they moved on to mass conversion of their chosen servitor race something went very wrong. Nearly the entire population of the newly converted beings seemed to lose their minds and became incredibly aggressive and uncontrollable like the Trans-Organics before them. Even worse not only did they have incredible amounts of strength and durability but they drained the energy from other beings to feed. The Quintessons had no idea how this ability developed, nothing in their experiments even hinted that this could be a possible side-effect of their flesh-to-metal conversion process. But any being these creatures could get their claws on was sucked dry of energy and left a husk. While it was costly to them, losing a good number of their other servitor races, the Quintessons managed to lure the creatures down to the lowest levels of the planet and sealed them away never to be released.
While these failures didn’t do much to deter the Quintessons from their desire to create a new servant race they did begin to think that perhaps they might be going in the wrong direction trying to convert already existing beings. There was actually a good portion of the populace that thought they were doomed to failure in such experiments anyway. The Quintessons already considered themselves the perfect meld of organic and machine and it was pointless, or maybe even obscene, trying to replicate that just for a product to sell. It was decided it was time to move in a different direction with their experiments, they would create a completely new lifeform.
Creating a new purely organic race was quickly dismissed, most flesh simply wasn't strong enough for their plans and on average didn't last nearly long enough for a sold product. Which is why they had been trying to convert it into something stronger in their previous experiments. A mechanical form would ideal for what the Quintessons wanted, but a simple robot wasn't what they wanted nor would it impress their customers. Not only did they already have robotic products but many of the Quintessons' clients could make their own robots easily even if they weren't as advanced as what the Quintessons offered. The Quintessons figured they had to somehow to give a machine "life" to truly make it stand apart from all that came before. They tried many things to try and bring a machine to life; from attempting to drain the "lifeforce" from an organic creature and transferring it to a machine to infusing a mechanical body with massive amounts of energy in an attempt to spark life. But nothing they tried seemed to work; most of the time the machines would simply be destroyed, other experiments would result in nonliving but rampaging machines that had to be put down.
The Quintessons had gotten a bit obsessed with their idea by this point and simply would not give up, they finally decided to put the full power of their planetary A.I. to use in figuring out this problem. Primus was ordered to take all the data from their many experiments on creating mechanical life and use all the processing power that wasn't already dedicated to keeping the planet running to extrapolate and run simulations until a way was found to get what they wanted, to imbue a machine with a "lifeforce". But even with the sheer processing power of Primus and the speed it could run simulations it took the A.I. decades before it could come up with a solution. The result was an energy form that would function as the equivalent of an organic being's lifeforce that would infuse a machine with life, Primus dubbed this energy form a "Spark".
Yeah that’s right, I said Spark. How’s it feel knowing our Sparks, or Souls as some of the organic races might put it, are the result of a big science experiment? Feeling a bit humbled yet? Don’t worry, we’ll get you there...
As for the actual creation of Sparks… having things work in simulations and getting them to work in reality were two very different things and it took the Quintessons some time to perfect the manufacture of these Sparks and then moving on to the process of using them to infuse a machine with life in a stable form. But after many more years and experiments the Quintessons finally had what they desired, a mechanical lifeform that fit all their criteria for their desired new race. Alive and aware in ways that even the best programming couldn't reproduce in other machines, not to mention strong, durable and customizable for a variety of potential roles The Quintessons rejoiced, they had a product the was superior to anything that had come before and that no one had anything that could compare.
And there it is, the very start of our race. We weren’t Cybertronians back then, no, we were just “Mechanical Life” the newest product of the Quintessons. Just another thing to be bought and sold like anything else sitting on the store shelf. Quite an origin for us huh? But don’t pack up your things and leave just yet, there still more to this tale.
Of course the Quintessons just couldn’t have a single type of their new sales item so they made several product lines out of their living machines, enough to fill any niche they thought their customers might want. And their customers just couldn't seem to get enough, all space-faring species in known space that the Quintessons had contact with wanted to buy their living machines. The Quintessons quickly became one of the dominate powers in known space not only economically but also militarily thanks to keeping a large force of their most advanced combat designed living machines around to protect their interests.
But as they were basking in their continued success and newfound power the Quintessons never stopped to consider that their living machines might continue to develop as living things tend to do; they were only product after all and they preformed their designed functions as they were built to. However even though the CPUs of the living machines were programmed with all the data needed for their intended function and safeguards to keep them focused on their function the Sparks within the living machines allowed them to think and wonder beyond the limits of their programming, to dream even. And their Sparks also let them feel emotion more strongly than the Quintessons ever intended. Many of the living machines began to wonder why they needed to continue to listen to the Quintessons; sure they may have created the living machines but the Quintessons obviously didn't care about them beyond the profit they made from selling them. Talk began to circulate amongst the living machines, particularly those that the Quintessons kept around for protection as they always saw so many of their brethren sold off, talk about what sort of future their race had when they were only considered a product. Opinions began to turn towards wanting to do something to change things…
It started with the number of industrial accidents increasing, damaging entire factories and slowing both production and shipping. While some of them found the sudden increase the number of accidents odd most of the Quintessons didn't care as none of them were being hurt in the incidents; they just increased the production of other factories to make up for it until things were repaired and back on schedule. Then more obvious sabotage began. Incidents all over the planet; accidents, equipment failures, structural failures, so many things going wrong near constantly. Such incidents were especially prevalent in areas designated for the Quintessons themselves.
The Quintessons put blame their remaining servitor races; rebellions were something that the Quintessons had to deal with every few centuries from their servitor races and it had been a long time since the last uprising. But such things were easily dealt with and quickly put down. Those being blamed denied the accusations and said they had learned their lesson long ago and would never even think about doing such a thing. The Quintessons asked who could it be then? The living machines? How could it be them? They were programmed machines, they were not capable of such insurrection. The living machines had counted on this reaction and used the Quintessons' focus being elsewhere to further prepare, plan and coordinate their next steps.
One night the living machines all disappeared from their posts, from storage areas at the factories and space ports, even right off the assembly lines. Recordings had been erased from the security databases and anyone who may have been a witness was found dead. Much of the usual activity on the planet ground to a halt as the confused Quintessons and their servitor races wondered just what exactly had happened. But they didn't have long to wonder, as the Quintessons calmed down and began searching around for what had happened to their lost product the living machines leapt from their hiding places and attacked.
This was unlike what the Quintessons had experienced when their servitor races rebelled. The uprisings of the servitor races were typically localized to a single area as the Quintessons generally kept them segregated in separate areas so that it would be harder for the servitor races to cooperate in the event some wanted to rebel. However the rebellion of the living machines was planet-wide as the Quintessons had been using their own creations all over the planet.
The situation quickly turned to all-out war as the living machines fought against the Quintessons and their servitor races. While it was quite a surprise that their creations could turn on them like that the Quintessons were confident that they could put the rebellious machines in their place, they had put down plenty of uprisings before after all. At least it was that way at first… The Quintessons soon realized that perhaps they had made their living machines a little too well and had kept too many around for their own use. The living machines gained ground in the conflict and the Quintessons’ servitor races were getting slaughtered no matter how many they threw at the problem as the machines just kept on coming.
The Quintessons even tried to have Primus intervene by using the planet’s defense systems against the rogue machines as well as trying to cut off power to areas that had been taken over. They even removed many of the A.I.'s restrictions and programming blocks so that it could react faster. But even this didn't have the desired effect, Primus seemed to react slower than expected as it was fully analyzing the conflict. This angered the Quintessons as they felt they didn't have time to do a full analysis of the situation, they wanted action taken immediately. However Primus simply kept analyzing as it continued to use the defense systems and powering down sectors of the planet as the Quintessons had ordered it to while telling them that the desired resolution would be achieved.
Eventually the Quintessons’ final defenses were broken and the living machines came rushing in intent on erasing their creators from existence. The long war had been costly for both sides but the fiercest fighting was during that last battle. While it cost them what was left of their servitor races and many of their own some Quintesson survivors managed to get aboard and successfully launch a few ships and escape into space away from their planet and their rebellious creations.
The war was over and the living machines had liberated themselves from their uncaring creators and now claimed the planet where their race had been born as their own. Though not without cost… They had lost so many during the fighting and nearly the entire planet's infrastructure was ruined beyond hope of repair. But they were free to live how they wanted, not be built and sold as product but free to choose whatever they wanted. Having nothing but themselves their most obvious path was to begin building and developing some sort of civilization of their own. While there were many of ideas how to exactly to go about that many did not agree on the exact path they should take. But one thing that was agreed upon was to rename the planet to help separate themselves from their past and their creators, the name chosen was Cybertron and the living machines became the Cybertronians.
And that my friend is the true origin of our race as revealed to me by Vector Sigma. A past only fully remembered by Vector Sigma and Primus, who still works to keep our planet stabilized and habitable despite us and everything we’ve done to it. Unfortunately our written history doesn’t go back that far because shortly after the name Cybertron was decided upon the differing opinions of how to move forward couldn’t be reconciled and the various groups supporting each idea went their separate ways; soon descending into barbarism and forming into tribes that were more concerned with just surviving rather than keeping history… Our history doesn’t start being reliably recorded until much later with the founding of Iacon; I’m sure you’re aware of at least the major events of our history since then.
Yeah, I can see it on your face that you don’t believe me, that I’m just as crazy as your bosses said. But this isn’t madness, it’s the Truth. No matter how badly those in power want to keep it contained it’s now out there in the records and recordings of all these sessions and in the heads of all those that have talked to me. Really, if they wanted to keep this knowledge from getting out they’ve been doing a really poor job of containment.
Yes yes, I’m aware that all of you that come in here are sworn to secrecy. But how long do you think that’ll last? Not only are secrets things that beg to be told, but people always want to know what is being kept secret. It’s only a matter of time before something slips and the truth gets out.
Maybe you’ll be the one to set the truth free…
=Excerpt from the 27th Psychological Evaluation of Starbreaker=
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Cellmates
Awan and Elyise have time to talk, as they seek to escape their cell.
Part 13 of @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac’s fic, and the longest thing I’ve written so far. The end is nigh though.
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“Are you awake?!” A voice says to your left.
You turn lightly, to notice Elyise chained to the ceiling, her feet dangling over the ground.
Looking up you realize you are similarly restrained, and that you are dangling just as she is.
“ARE YOU AWAKE?” she insists.
“I think I am” you state.
“About time” she grumbles.
“What’s going on…?” you asks just an instant before your mind decides to reboot and provide all the missing memories. “Oh. Reaper is a jerk.” Your suit seems to be still on, and there’s a pair of burn marks where Reaper shot you. So this is where you ended up it seems.
“Precisely.” she nods.
“He got you too?” you ask rather calmly. By your standards, being suspended is pretty tame… unlike the farm’s numerous pressure tests.
“No, I just came to stretch my arms… OF COURSE, HE GOT ME TOO, GENIUS!!” she states dangling to the side furiously.
“Ugh, don’t yell, my head’s killing me”
“He’s the one who’s gonna kill us if we don’t do something”
“Relax. If he wanted us dead we wouldn’t be even talking up here”
“RELAX? You want me to relax?!”
“I’m the one who should be mad, you’re darn liar, remember? What the fuck is your deal, Elyise?”
“My deal? Getting out alive is my deal, always!”
“You worked for Hollow Ground, you had links with the Loanshark and then you helped Reaper? What side are you on?!”
“I’m on my own side ok?. Someone has to be,”
“You could have mentioned that YOU HELPED KILL HOOD!”
Oh, that struck a chord. She turns to you, angrily.
“Do you think it was my idea? I don’t know what you heard, but I was FORCED to help in that.”
“You could’ve said NO!”
“Because that was a great choice for me, right? If I hadn’t helped Hollow Ground would have thrown me out for mom to find. She had precogs in her little cult. Wouldn’t have lasted a day on my own”
“You also helped Reaper murder a ton of people just to keep your secret!”
“Those people? They’re SCUM! And I don’t know if you noticed but everyone in their right mind approved of what Catastrofiend did”
“So if you’re so happy about it, then why aren’t you helping Reaper anymore?!”
“BECAUSE HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HURT YOU GUYS, OK? I DONT KNOW WHY HE DID THAT! HE SHOULD HAVE TOLD CATASTROFIEND TO LEAVE WHEN YOU SHOWED UP. I QUESTIONED HIM AFTER OUR CHAT, AND HERE I AM!”
“Hurting us, huh? That’s what bothered you? What about, oh I don’t know DATING CHARGE for example? Did someone force you to do that too?!
“I knew this was about it! You never liked me around him! I saw how you looked at us!”
“That’s not...”
“Admit it already!” You’re definitely NEVER going to admit something like that.
“You know he worshipped Hood, and you’re accessory to his murder! Don’t you think he had at least the right to know about something like that?!”
“...” she starts to say something, but her voice breaks and she looks away. You won the argument, clearly.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought!” you say annoyed, looking at the binds. Maybe you can find some way to get out and leave her here.
“...I just wanted to be normal, ok?” she says after a while, turning back at you.
“Normal?”
“He talked to me about so many things… And he listened… And I… I had never been with anyone before… and he was so darn nice I just… I just wanted to be happy”
“Don’t. Just don’t! Don’t you dare... No.. don’t you… crap” you say looking at her teary eyes.
It’s not the physical crying that does it but the inner mess of emotions. It actually shuts you up, mainly because you understand where she’s coming from all too well.
Are you just being one big hypocrite?
You escaped the farm to kill someone in the first place.
Shit, she’s making it harder to hate her.
“What?” she says as you fall silent “aren’t you going to go on about how am I a total piece of shit?”
“... No…” you grumble
Silence. Only interrupted by the clinking of the chains.
If only you could walk out of the room and have some time to think about it… But no. You have to return to reality.
Realty being you’ve both been captured by a skull-faced homicidal maniac
“Listen… I assume you’ve tried to get us out with your telekinesis?”
“I did. There’s some sort of security system that prevents it.
“Can you show me?”
She nods slowly
“This cell gets even funnier when I try that” You can sense her concentrating and….
The walls start shinning in bright blue, the room filling with static, followed by a deafening booming sound from every side, stronger. She screams something… and then you’re screaming something too… so loud…
Until it all dies out, your ears still ringing echoes of it.
“Ugh, this is a nasty one… Sonic pain inducers” you yell.
“WHAT?” she yells back, still half-deaf.
Probably on par with some of the Farm’s tests. Just your luck, Awan, you say to yourself.
A console lights up on the far end, with Charon’s logo on it…
“For the fourth time Prisoners, I advise you not to attempts that again. This room can be electrically magnetized and will counter any telekinetic attempt to escape. It is also equipped with sound blasting technology that will castigate unruly behavior.” The console shuts down soon after the last word is said.
“Shit!” you say
“I know. Do you have any skills to escape something like this?”
You study the binds. They seem simple chains and manacles and you’ve got nothing to pick the lock with. THere’s no other mind than Elyise’s close enough for you to reach either.
“Nope”
“Then we’re royally fucked” she states.
“Indeed” you sigh.
“Distract Charon. I will try to send a telepathic message to the rangers” you send the words into her mind so Charon won’t overhear. She seems startled, but nods in silence.
You start clearing your mind for the task at hand. Never attempted communication at this range, and there’s no guarantee that it would work at all even if you had been practising. It doesn’t help that there are millions of people in Los Diablos and you want to find a single mind.
Piece of cake, Awan.
________A few hours later._______________
Your arms hurt like hell from dangling and you’ve lost track of time, but you’re not giving up, repeating the message over and over… impossible to tell if you are being heard or not.
“HEY CHARON!” She yells. Elyise has been doing a superb job of distracting the AI. You wish she wasn’t that good because it distracts you as well.
The screen turns on, and the display comes online once more. If AI’s had human personalities you would say Charon is surprisingly gossipy. He probably doesn’t get many people to chat with since the Defenders Society disbanded.
“What? I’ve already told you I’m not going to let you go”
“Just wanted to ask you when did Reaper decide he wanted to kill all those drug-dealers”
“Whatever do you mean? Master has killed drug-dealers many times in the past.”
“Oh c’mon! He hasn’t killed anyone in almost a decade!”
“It’s true… he took a long hiatus after retiring from the crime-fighting life. His focus fell almost entirely upon charity projects after his cancer got worse”
“Was it hard, overcoming it?”
“He did not overcome it.
“What do you mean? He told everyone he was doing great!”
“That was a lie he repeated many times. His doctors gave him months to live and he dismissed them. And then the Hauswald foundation burned down, sending him into a deep depression”
“What?” you interrupt. Elyise gives you an angry look, her mind telling you to focus on your own thing. She’s right… back to send your signal.
“Months to live? Is he dying? I saw him standing up earlier!”
“He was dying, right until he wasn’t. My research into the subject he brought in changed everything!”
You can barely hear what they’re saying… you’re picking up something… something getting closer...
“You mean my mother?”
“Affirmative. The subject possessed impressive regenerative properties never seen before on a boost. I theorized that a series of transfusions could heal him by making his own tissues more competitive than the cancer-cells”
It’s clear now. Someone picked up your message and is very close to Reaper’s complex…
“He has… my mother’s blood?”
“Indeed. He was reluctant, thus I had to administer it hidden in his medication.”
“You… gave it to him without him knowing?!”
“Indeed. I would do anything to preserve my master.”
“Aren’t there secondary effects?”
“Oh yes. Many in fact. I discovered most of them after the third transfusion took place”
“What side effects?!”
“Psychological mostly. Sharp aggression increases, self-restraint, almost nullified. Morality ambiguity and…”
Someone’s walking up to the Manor’s gate… with a vengeance. You sense some sort of fight taking place.
“I am sorry. Someone’s being rather rude at the main gate. We can finish this conversation later” the screen says before turning off.
“Did you get someone?” she asks
“I think so?”
“Who?”
“I’m not really sure… I think it’s…”
The sound of fighting interrupts you, along with blaring sirens.
There is only one presence in the complex asides from her, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out who.
“It’s Anathema!” you say. “They’re fighting a lot of security drones”
“about time we got some good luck. Guide them to us?!”
It’s not hard to send Anathema a signal they can follow. They’re used to working with you.
Finally, you can hear the noise coming up to your cell, with gunshots and skittering of metallic legs and the sizzling of acid.
“CEASE AND DESIST INTRUDER! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY AND YOU ARE TRESPASSING!”
“I’ll give you trespassing and then some, you dumb toasters!”
“GET AWAY FROM THE PREMISES!”
“Will you shut up already? I can’t hear my own thoughts and I think I’m getting some that are not even mine…”
“Get out before you are hurt human!”
“Hurt? You know your spider-things can’t hurt me! I’ve gone through three dozens of them already!”
“Losses are meaningless. I have an immense reserve of combat drones!”
“And I have like the worst case of reflux in mankind’s history, so give me a break will you?” he sounds like he’s just in front of you now…
“HERE! WE’RE IN HERE!” You shout out, with Elyise joining you.
“About time! I thought I was going mad with all the talking toasters”
The door starts smoking and dissolving under the acid shower from the other side.
Soon, Anathema steps in, looking up at the two of you.
“Oh, so you’re doing some stretching up in here?” he jokes, looking relieved.
“Very funny” you answer.
“Yeah, hilarious” Elyise adds
“Oh c’mon, It was a good one-liner!” he grins looking up at the chains. “Now how do I get you out without dripping acid on your hair…”
“Can you deal with that box on the corner?” Elyise says looking down at it.
“Can do” Annie states, letting a few drops off at it. Always amazes you, how it goes through almost anything.
Elyise inhales deeply and puts her powers in motions, both sets of chains bursting open to pieces. She floats gently to the ground…. While you land less gracefully.
“Ouch,” Anathema says helping you.
“My poor arms” Elyise complains, stretching some. Yours do too, but you’re a bit more used to this kind of stuff.
“How long have we been here?” you ask.
“A day and a half? I realized something was wrong when you didn’t come back… But I expected you were behind it all” Annie says looking at Elyise. “No offense”.
“I do get that sometimes…” she sighs
“It’s not her Annie. It was Reaper all along”
“R… Reaper? Are you for real?”
“Afraid so…”
“RETURN THE PRISONERS AND SURRENDER!” Charon’s voice reaches from afar, the sound of metal legs coming in closer.
“Ahh crazy computers, love me. Ok, you two stay behind me, and don’t step on the acid, ok?” he says grinning.
The way out is plagued with spider terror drones but they are simply no match for Anathema, who marches you to the exit without a hitch. You find your gun on the way out along with the data rod. Elyise gives you a terrifyed look as you take it, but you don’t say a word about it to Annie.
Not yet, at least.
___________________________________________
My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.
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4.18 - Monster at the End of this book
This episode is what Supernatural used to do best, funny, angsty and heartbreaking all in a single episode. And similar to Monster Movie, I’d have to paste the entire transcript for this episode to do it any justice. I will gamely try (and fail) to summarise as best I can, but it’s still a long post, It’s really not my fault they used to pack so much good stuff into a single episode, instead of the filler crap we get now that I wouldn’t be remotely interested in recapping. I might do an early season 14 one soon and see the difference.
I think this is also the first episode Supernatural goes meta, and it is fantastic, due in large part to Rob Benedict being a fantastic choice as Chuck and Jared and Jensen knocking it out of the park in all of their scenes together. Interestingly, this one wasn’t written by Ben, but Julie Siege and looking at her other episodes, this is by far the best one.
Scene with comic book guy was great. Right from when he recognises the FBI aliases they use: De Young and Shaw - which I admit I had to look up who these were. Styx, which doesn’t help me any, so currently listening to Styx while I watch the episode - through to their weird line of questions, he believes them to be LARPing.
Best part of this scene:
Comic Book Guy: You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... "Supernatural." Two guys, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?
Sam (hesitantly): Sam and Dean? Comic Book Guy: That's it!
I love how the show pokes fun at itself all through the episode. We find out that the books “didn’t sell a lot of copies...kind of had more of an underground cult following.” and they are being sold in the “bargain bin” section. Oh show.
We get a montage of the book covers and the props department really had fun with this one. Here’s Fabio!Sam and a jacked up Dean ... enjoy! Source
The next scene is also great, Dean’s reading the books and has discovered he’s full frontal in Route 666. Show pokes more fun at itself when Dean asks Sam how come they hadn’t heard of the books before. Sam: “They’re pretty obscure. I mean almost zero circulation.” Oh show. They discover fandom, there’s not many of us, but we sure do complain a lot. Oh Dean, I actually liked Season 4 for the most part, wait till later seasons! Best part of this scene:
Dean: There are Sam girls and Dean girls and... what’s a slash fan?
Sam: As in...Sam slash Dean...Together
Dean: Like, together, together?
Sam: Yeah
Dean: They do know we’re brothers, right?
Sam: Doesn’t seem to matter.
Heh.
Next on to the publisher - who I think was also Karen in The Usual Suspects episode. They tell her they are big fans and want to write an article on the books. Best parts of this interaction is when she says that a positive article could mean they start publishing again and Dean responds: No, no, no, no. God, no! She gets suspicious - as she doesn’t want anyone making fun of “her boys” - so tests them on their knowledge of the books. They get them all right obviously, but Sam struggles to remember his LSAT score.
On to Carver Edlund - who we find out is a pen name for Chuck Shurley. We saw him at the start of the episode dreaming about Sam and Dean and he’s shown here, editing his most recent chapter, so it’s obvious he’s still writing. This whole scene is genius. You can’t even attempt to summarise it, but it does have this line, “Sam and Dean traded soulful looks.” Also Chuck comes to the conclusion he’s a god.
We next see Sam and Dean in the laundrette (or laundromat if you are US). Dean’s reading from the pages while Sam is loading the laundry and the pages match what they are doing. Right down to Sam’s brooding and pensive shoulders and thinking Dean is a dick.
Sam and Dean go back to Chuck’s house and he tells him of his latest dream, which Dean in particular isn’t going to like. Apparently Sam is going to unable to “deny his desire”, and “will succumb to Lilith as they sink into the throes of fiery demonic passion.” Sam rightfully laughs at this
Sam: You’re kidding me, right?
Dean: You think this is funny?
Sam: You don’t? I mean, come on, “Fiery demonic passion”?
Chuck (defensively): It’s just a first draft
This is a very funny scene, but heartbreaking as Dean doesn’t believe that Sam would never actually do this. It makes me even sadder that in Season 14, Sam’s still begging Dean to believe in them.
Sam: You can’t seriously believe...
Dean: Humour me
In the car, Sam sarcastically reads from the recent pages Chuck wrote, which includes the line, “The minivan accident wasn’t that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower Band-aids on his face.” which Sam thinks would never happen, that Dean would “use duct tape and bar rags, before he’d put on a pink flower band-aid.”
Dean thinks Chuck might be wrong about the details, but not the end result (Sam sleeping with Lilith) so they are hightailing it out of town. Except the bridge is down (apparently the only one in town which is a bit poor thinking on the town’s part) so they have to stay.
They go to a diner and decide to try to do the opposite of what has been written. So where it says they get into a fight, they won’t fight, no research for Sam, no bacon cheeseburger for Dean, which leads to this:
Dean (to the waitress): Hi, uh, what's good? WAITRESS: Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country. Sam laughs and looks at Dean in challenge. Dean orders the veggie tofu burger.
Next follows couples therapy tactics as they try to avoid the fight that happens in Chuck’s draft (all sourced from wiki as usual):
SAM: This whole thing's ridiculous. DEAN:Lilith is ridiculous? SAM: The idea of me hooking up with her is. DEAN: Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen. SAM: (starts to scowl, then controls himself.) Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close. DEAN: So? SAM: So... we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's – this is an opportunity. DEAN Are you – (trying very hard not to get angry) It frustrates me when you say such reckless things. SAM: Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide that fight.
I love that whole interaction. They couldn’t look more like a couple if they tried.
They get their food and after the waitress leaves, Dean continues their “discussion”: It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight. (He takes a huge bite of his burger and his eyes widen in surprise.) Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing! WAITRESS: (approaching, flustered). I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake. (she takes his plate away) SAM bitchfaces.
The next bit, they spend fruitlessly trying to do the opposite of what’s on the pages. They pull into the skeevy Toreador Hotel (which Sam says looks like it rents rooms by the hour) to avoid staying at the Red Hotel. Dean dumps Sam in the motel room while he takes Sam’s laptop so he can’t do research. He leaves to go park up the car instead of driving it around (as per the pages). As he drives away, the motel neon sign breaks, leaving only the letters Red remaining.
Dean parks up the impala and walks away, but turns around to see two kids trying to break into her. He starts across to them and gets run over by a mini van.
Chuck arrives at the motel room, Sam’s called him over and I just want to say that in this scene, Rob is absolutely tiny against Jared! I mean seriously, he’s like a leprechaun, and he shouldn’t look that small as he’s listed as 5′ 8″. I’ve seen Jared in the flesh and yes he’s tall, but not how it shows here. Anyway, Sam asks Chuck if he’s seen visions of Sam when he’s not with Dean.
Chuck: Oh, you want to know if I know about the demon blood.
Chuck does know, but he hasn’t told Dean or written it into the books, because he’s afraid it will make Sam look “unsympathetic”. After the joking of the rest of the episode, this is a beautiful scene between Jared and Rob, where Sam reveals once again that he believes he’s got to stop the apocalypse because he doesn’t think Dean’s strong enough. He wants to do it because Dean’s looked out for him his whole life, and he wants to be the one that helps Dean this time. Chuck questions whether that’s really Sam’s motives and not that he feels strong and in control when he’s drinking the demon blood. Sam says that isn’t true (but I think its Sam wanting to believe that isn’t true).
Chuck: I’m sorry Sam. I know it’s a terrible burden, feeling that it all rests on your shoulders
Sam: Does it? All rest on my shoulders?
Chuck: That seems to be where the story is headed.
Dean wakes up and sees stars (which turns out to be the huge earrings of the woman who ran him over). Seriously, those could rip your ear open. He sees the impala’s back window has been broken (which was also written in the pages Sam was reading from earlier). He sees his reflection in baby and the woman’s daughter has plastered his face with pink band aids while he was unconscious. Umm, next time, maybe call an ambulance?
Dean slides behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drives off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow. (Chuck’s words, not mine).
Back to Chuck who arrives home with a six pack of beer to find Dean waiting for him (which he knew was going to happen). Dean attacks him to get him to explain how he’s doing what he’s doing, and... oh great, Castiel’s turned up, once again far too late, to “helpfully” explain that Chuck is to be protected as he is a “prophet of the Lord” who is writing the Winchester gospel.
Castiel says he’s a fan of Chuck’s work and picks up a copy of Scarecrow (and I just thank Chuck it wasn’t route 666 or we’d never hear the end of it).
Dean asks Chuck if he knew (about being a prophet). Chuck says he might have dreamed about it and adds: “ It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night-level douchiness.”
Another Dean and Cass scene and yet again, I really don’t see what the hellers are seeing at all. Upshot is, Dean asks Castiel how they stop Lilith and Sam getting their jiggy on. Castiel responds “What the prophet has written can’t be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass.” Well, thanks for that Cass, really helpful as always.
Dean leaves and returns to the hotel and sees the sign has now changed to the Red Motel. And even though I don’t love what they say to each other in this next scene, I do absolutely love this scene. Give me all the angsty brothers. Jared and Jensen both do an outstanding job. This show should get all the cookies. Dean wants them to hightail out of town, even if they have to swim out. As he’s starting to pack up, he realises the hex bags he placed earlier to hide Sam are not there. It turns out that Sam’s burnt them because he wants to confront Lilith. Best part of the scene:
SAM: You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side. DEAN: Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing? (Sam looks worried at this news, thinking Dean might know about the blood drinking) and Dean continues, Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly. Cas told me, okay? (so Dean and Cass have been having secret conversations about Sam).
SAM: What else did he tell you? DEAN: Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap, and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, and we don't know how.
Sam: It’s not what you think
Dean: Then what is it, Sam. ‘Cause I’m at a total loss.
Sam doesn’t answer, Dean finishes packing and asks Sam if he’s coming or not. Sam says no. Dean closes his eyes and throws his bag down on the chair and angrily leaves the room.
Dean goes to get a soda, and prays to the angels for help as he is completely out of options. Castiel turns up, and in the same way I liked Jared and Rob scene, I like Jensen and Misha scene. However, in the same way I see nothing shippy between Sam and Chuck, there is also nothing shippy between Dean and Castiel. Dean is 100% only concerned about his brother and his interest in Castiel is in how he can help him save Sam. Otherwise, he seems permanently angry at the angels, which includes Castiel. I think Dean just prefers to deal with him out of all the angels because Castiel is the least douchy and for the most part, answers his questions. Dean begs Castiel to drag Sam out of the town. Castiel apologises and says he cannot interfere in a prophesy.
Dean: Screw you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don’t help me now, then when the time comes and you need me...don’t bother knocking.
He goes to leave and Castiel calls him back, and this is one of the few times that I actually like Castiel and that he does actually help, though in Castiel’s usual cryptic way. Misha does a good job in this scene and just posting the dialogue doesn’t do justice to his performance here as Castiel tries to give a hint to Dean:
CASTIEL: You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are very special. They're protected. DEAN (angrily): I get that. CASTIEL: If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon. DEAN: And these archangels, they're tied to prophets? CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon – CASTIEL: Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand (looks up towards the skies)... why I can't help.
Oh Cass, you are all right. [Until you let Sam out of the panic room in a later episode and then I’m back to not liking you]
Dean goes to get Chuck:
Chuck: What are you doing here? I didn’t write this!
Unsurprisingly, Chuck is reluctant to go with Dean. Dean gives him a pep talk:
DEAN: This isn't a story anymore, man. This is real! And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your ass and fight. Come on, Chuck.
Dramatic, inspiring music plays as Chuck starts walking forward... then turns around and...
CHUCK: No friggin' way.
Dean goes with plan B:
DEAN: Okay, well, then, how about this – I've got a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with me, I'll blow your brains out. CHUCK (smugly): I thought you said I was protected by an archangel. DEAN (considers that): Well, interesting exercise. Let's see who the quicker draw is.
Back to Sam. The motel room door knocks and he opens it to... nothing there. He closes the door and turns around and Lilith is inside the room. Neat trick. Lilith helpfully rolls her eyes to white, just so we know it’s her. She asks where the demon killing knife is and Sam tells her it’s on the nightstand. She goes to get it and stops at a rug, pulling it back she sees Sam’s drawn a trap. She breaks it easily then tells Sam he needs to try a lot harder than that.
Sam tries to exorcise her, but does nothing more than make her hair blow prettily in the wind he’s creating. It appears that Sam and Lilith are now evenly matched with their powers, she can’t TK him, he can’t TK her.
Sam asks what she wants, and she offers to stand down and stop breaking the seals, because she’s found out she doesn’t survive (I think she’s only just found out she’s the last seal, which obviously Sam - and we - still doesn’t know). All she wants in return is Sam and Dean dead. Sam says he doesn’t believe her, but Lilith says if they make a deal, she has to follow through and Sam knows that. She accuses him of being like her.
Sam: You think I’m like you? I’m nothing like you!
Sam agrees to the deal, and Lilith says it’ll take a lot more than just a kiss. She pats the bed and Sam joins her, looking as if he’s going to agree, but he grabs the knife at the last second. Lilith is better at fighting on beds than Sam is (heh) and she easily overpowers him.
Dean and Chuck burst into the room. Lilith gets off the bed to confront them and the room starts shaking. Dean says an archangel is coming and if she doesn’t get out, she’s dead. Lilith glares at Sam and smokes out.
Dean and Sam have a broment in the car as they drive away. Sam still wants Lilith dead.
Last scene is Chuck. We don’t see his dream this time, but he wakes up and Zachariah is there. Chuck has now seen how everything ends and wants to warn Sam and Dean, but Zachariah says he’ll stop him.
Me at the time: What did Chuck dream?!
Up next, Supernatural jumps the shark.
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Speaking Of Pretentious Pseudo-Intellectuals:
Let’s talk about internet psychologist @ravenstag-wytch who thinks she knows everything because she took a psych-101 course once and likes to use every cliche trope in the book to “internet diagnose” people with “problems” which if she knew anything about psychology at all she’d know she couldn’t do. So, here’s the little DM she sent me because well...she practically BEGGED me for attention while claiming I’M an attention whore, weird right? Here we go.
I find this message interesting for a few reasons.
Look at how she starts this whole thing like she’s about to write a fucking thesis, that’s how we already know we are dealing with someone who’s about to say a bunch crap that they have absolutely know education in.
1. There are posts on your blog in which you rant and rave about people not listening to you or reading your posts correctly, yet it’s very clear that you didn’t read mine. I never said that you said no other fandom was like this; I was simply pointing out the fact that all fandoms have the crazies (because it’s true).
Yes this is pretty much what the fandom uses to dismiss my argument they never read the rest of what I say which funnily enough despite all her accusations against me she still didn’t manage to see. Even in the original DM I sent her. Where I clarified that, I know there are crazies in every fandom that was never the point I was trying to make. What I was saying is the majority of the Hannibal fandom is crazy and that’s the difference. In larger fandoms, the crazy people are the minority not the majority so they can be more easily ignored. That’s not the case with the Hannibal fandom, and as such, the majority represents the minority who are mostly good people. Weird that she couldn’t finish reading all of that before jumping down my throat right? Moving on.
I’ve been participating in fandoms for about 15 years, so I know from experience. If anything, your response showed just how quick you are to jump on the defense, to the point where you don’t bother to finish listening to the other party.
Not true I read all of what you said and what they have to say but it’s very clear from this response you did not finish reading what I told you so you are literally projecting your own problems onto me and acting superior about it. Also if people are “experts” based on how long they’ve “been in fandoms” I’ve been doing it longer so I’m more of an “expert”. Just to clarify this is sarcasm, how long anyone has or hasn’t been in “Fandoms” doesn’t matter.
These are bad debate skills, and since you seem to have made an entire hobby out of being argumentative on the internet, you should perhaps brush up on debate etiquette; you simply look like a fool. Perhaps you know this, which is why you chose to PM me instead of reblog and make your defense public.
Bad debate skills? How? I read all of what you said, you didn’t read all of what I said before writing me an essay about everything wrong with me. I’m pretty sure you’re the one with bad debate skills. Also what debate were we even having? This wasn’t a debate. I thought she misunderstood my argument and my point about the majority of the fandom representing the group which makes the normal people in the group look bad. This isn’t a debate, why is she classifying it as such? To make her feel better? To make her feel like she won? Yeah probably. Also I didn’t reply in public because I thought it was more polite to discuss it privately not because I’m a coward or my only hobby is arguments on the internet? That’s a weird conclusion to jump to.
2. ...speaking of. I see another, quite long post on the “issue” of the Hannibal fandom being “obsessive”. I find this to be really interesting as well, considering that it’s very obvious that you are inherently obsessed with the Hannibal fandom (and in quite a negative way). You have put in more effort into your posts than some of us have on actually contributing to the fandom.
I type 90 words per minute anything you’ve seen me write took me 5 minutes at most and 99% of it is copy and pasted from things I wrote years ago and are being cross posted on this blog to get traffic to my website. So...really it’s not taking as much time as you think it’s taking.
I also see you make YouTube videos doing the same - again, a clear display of obsessive behaviour. That’s quite hypocritical of you, no matter how you look at it.
Have you watched any of these videos? No? Because the vast majority of these videos talk about people in the fandom running scams, preying on young girls, and stalking celebrities. The vast majority of the videos I have done are not about the show, not about the “general fandom” they are about criminals in the fandom and the crimes they are committing. Now I’m really sorry if it’s “obsessive” to want criminals to be held accountable for crimes they are committing but if it is, then I I guess I’m just a bad person. I’m assuming that you haven’t watched any videos or looked at one or two titles if that’s what you think my channel is about. Also, that channel has existed for I think 5 years? So those videos have gone up over a LONG PERIOD OF TIME not a week. That’s pretty normal non obsessive behavior. Might want to figure out the difference.
And as an aside... I had the wonderful opportunity of attending a Hannibal convention for the very first time this year, and I was overwhelmingly surprised at how incredibly lovely the people in this fandom are. Many times, I mentioned that I’d never been part of such a frictionless, bright fandom full of caring and just overall wonderful people.
Just because you’ve never had the experience I have that means I must be lying and it’s not true nor could it have possibly happened. Very mature outlook there. You are “sorry” I had this experience because your very small, only ever attended one convention with cult members was “normal” and “fun”. Except I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that if you found these people NORMAL and inviting you are exactly the type of crazy person I’m talking about and have been all along so lol why am I even trying?
So many people have said the same. I’m actually very sorry that you haven’t had the same experience. Regarding your claims about sanity/mental illness... First, I see no facts; only opinions. Please present your proof if you are going to argue a point (this goes back to debate skills - innocent until proven guilty and all that), and also be sure to include numbers since you are saying such things as “the MAJORITY”, etc. My experiences with this fandom have been exactly the opposite as yours.
Okay so now she’s repeated herself, and once again she’s trying to make the claim that because she’s never SEEN this happen it couldn’t have possibly happened and is demanding proof which I have all over my website and youtube channel which she’d know if she’d ever watched the videos but she hasn’t. She assumed the content of the videos, then assumed I was lying or something without bothering to do the research because her experience (and this is where the narcissism comes in) differs, she can’t even step outside of herself to see maybe she’s wrong.
And I hate to say this, but the only negative I’ve ever experienced in this fandom has been this one... I’ve never encountered someone who is simply so hateful about tearing people down who are just trying to enjoy something (fandoms are an extracurricular activity). If you dislike the fandom so much, just leave it alone. ‘
If you dislike what I’m saying so much how about you leave me alone? Furthermore if you were paying attention and I know you weren’t because you expect people to read what you have to say but don’t bother to listen to them, is that my major complaint with the fandom is how they let scam artists get away with scamming and sexual predators get away with finding victims that’s like 90% of the complaint which you’d know if you were actually paying attention to anything you saw me upload or write.
On the other hand, you have Mads Mikkelsen who attended RDC several times (you know, despite the fandom being “dead”) who continually says he would love to continue Hannibal (in fact, he and I spoke about this in person - don’t worry, I didn’t stalk him. It was at a PAID meet and greet at the con). Even during interviews for other movies and works he’s doing, if Hannibal is ever brought up he talks about how he loves the Fannibals and the show, and he would make time for it in a heartbeat if the opportunity comes up. This is a drastically different picture than, say, the Sherlock fandom (and I’m not trying to pick on them, it’s just what came to mind based on actual public evidence). So yeah.
Oh because celebs don’t publicly talk about it that means they aren’t bothered by it? Really? That’s your claim here because Mads Mikkelsen has never mentioned it he must have never been affected by it? Are you freaking serious right now? Costas Mandylor who still attends conventions to meet Saw fans has had problems with many stalkers and has never spoken up about it publicly. The only reason people know is because they know who these stalkers were in the fandom, by name, because they made themselves obvious. Think you have no idea what you are talking about if you think that the only proof of people being bothered by stalkers is if they mention it publicly. God DAMN you have a narrow minded view of the world don’t you?
I guess I just don’t understand your perspective based on the evidence supplied. I also don’t understand your very hypocritical nature, nor why you seem to be such an angry, hateful person. I feel sorry for you, living with all that negative energy. 😞
No actually you don’t understand my perspective based on the 2 seconds of “research” you actually did. The evidence is there, the proof is there, I have put it up and hilariously enough you’ve been to my youtube channel you’ve watched nothing, you’ve decided your opinion based on I don’t know, vague skimming you complain that I don’t listen to you or read what you have to say when I have done that, and then you pull the bullshit “pretending to care” when you don’t really care. It’s condescending and sickening. You are literally every problem I have with this fandom. The projection, the immaturity, the unwilling to listen to anyone who doesn’t parrot back what you hear from your echo chamber. You are 100% the type of Fannibal I have been describing this entire time and you fail to realize it because you are just as insane as the people you are attempting to defend.
So, sweetie, did I give you enough attention? Though I doubt you’ll read literally any of this since you put SO MUCH EFFORT Into trying to understand me before. (That was sarcasm it’s clear you are too dumb to understand that) and for the record I’ve politely approached several people like I have you on here to get a better understanding but you are legit THE ONLY PERSON who reacted this way. Maybe you need to consider that, sweetie. Hope this is enough for you because I don’t intend to give you more.
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So... the Far Cry 5 ‘good’ ending. Good being very relative term in this case. Obviously I have issues with it and given I’m nearing the end of my third playthrough (which would be kind of disturbing but is actually a result of having time on my hands the game not actually being that long due to the gameplay mechanics acting like a ticking clock with the main story missions - I dragged out 3 & 4 much longer because you could control when you did the main story missions better in those games... but I digress), I have been able to explore a bit and take in a bit more of what happens.
So, I have my own headcanons about the ‘good’ ending and because I write fic, I incorporated them into a bit of a fic featuring my Deputy Aaron Cartwright. Because it was easier for me to articulate them that way. Anyway, these are my headcanons only but they’re mostly supported by things that are said and/or shown in game or some external research done by me (re: the flowers they use to make the Bliss).
Cut for length, btw. And this hasn’t been edited much so it might be a bit rough. It was part of a longer fic but I may never get around to editing or publishing those bits.
It took five weeks to convince Joseph Seed that he was a true believer now. Aaron would consider it the best acting job of his life but one thing he’d become aware of as the days passed was that whatever Joseph had been before they arrived, he had well and truly taken a dive off the deep end now. He didn’t actually seem violent anymore and Aaron’s early defiance had been greeted with little more than disappointed looks and endless sermons. Now, though, Joseph let him wander wherever he wanted in Dutch’s bunker and Aaron was careful in turn to stay away from the exits.
At least until now.
He’d found a secret cache of various medicinal drugs tucked away in the room he was using. He’d blessed Dutch’s paranoid soul that meant that he’d hidden things even in his own bunker, especially when he’d found the sleeping tablets. He’d taken several days to work through his plan and even do a couple of dry runs. He and Joseph split the cooking duties and the night he chose to act, he cooked a thick rich stew, something as close to his mother’s recipe as he could get with the supplies they had in the bunker. And into Joseph’s portion, he stirred the crushed sleeping tablets. There had only been three, which wouldn’t kill Joseph, but it would be enough for Aaron’s purposes.
Because in the last few weeks, he’d had time to think through what happened and one thing that had occurred to him very late one night about a week and a half after they’d arrived here – he’d been dosed with Bliss before and it had never worn off that quickly. The Sheriff had told him that. Sure, the brief exposures he had as he went about his business faded quickly but when he’d been properly dosed, no. And he’d been all but swimming in the stuff after Joseph had pushed over those vats. The first time Faith had dosed him, he’d been gone for days before they’d found him. Same with the second time. If what happened was to be believed then the Bliss Joseph had poured out at his feet had worn off in mere minutes. And frankly, Aaron didn’t believe it.
Add to that, those explosions – multiple – had been close. Close enough to cause fire and brimstone and devastation. Close enough that at least one of them, possibly more, was inside the valley. The radiation load they’d received must have been immense. They should have gotten sick within hours and stayed sick for days, maybe even died. But they’d both been perfectly healthy.
And the whole thing was just so… over the top. From his memory, there had been at least three, possibly four explosions within close proximity to or actually inside Hope Valley. A small, insignificant valley in the middle of Montana. Now, Aaron liked to think he was as important as the next person but that was overkill for one tiny county that had nothing of any national, let alone global, significance in it. If they’d been in New York or Los Angeles or Boston, sure. If they’d had a top secret government lab or something, then fine, he could understand it but Hope Valley?
Sure, there had been those radio broadcasts about trouble in the rest of the world but… the cult owned the radio stations. That had been in the briefing they’d had before they’d come here. So the only form of communication, supposedly from the outside world, came from cult-owned radio stations. The TV didn’t show anything other than cult broadcasts, phones didn’t work, the internet didn’t work… really, no one had any idea about what was going on outside of Hope Valley. And the clown in the Oval Office might be an idiot but Aaron didn’t think everyone was that stupid and hadn’t some of the Joint Chiefs already said they’d disobey if given that kind of order?
All in all, Aaron was convinced that if he opened the doors of the bunker, he wasn’t going to find the world in a state of devastation. Of course, if he was wrong, he’d look like an ass and probably die pretty quickly but he was willing to back his gut on this.
So, he waited. He lay in his narrow camp bed and waited, listening to Joseph stumble to his own bed and fall onto it. He waited then for another twenty minutes then he got up. He knew where Joseph had stashed his weapons and it was the work of a moment to smash open the lock and get them out. He then made his way to the exit and stared at the doors. He squared his shoulders and drew in a deep breath then unlocked them and pushed them open.
He squinted as bright sunlight flooded in and blinded him momentarily, before climbing out of the bunker and looking around, shaking his head with wry amusement. Not only was he right, their sense of time had gotten completely out of whack down there. The sun was high in the sky and around him was green grass, trees and plenty of life. Not a single sign of nuclear holocaust.
He snorted and turned back to the bunker. There were a lot of things he should do right now but the first thing was to make sure Joseph Seed couldn’t cause any more trouble. He swung the doors to the bunker closed and after a quick search, found a thick, solid branch that he shoved through the handles as a makeshift lock until he could find a better solution.
Only then did he dig out his radio. “Sheriff Whitehorse? Anyone else? This is Deputy Aaron Cartwright. Is anyone there?”
For a moment, there was only the quiet hiss of radio static then he heard the Sheriff’s amazed voice. “Rook? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me, boss,” Aaron said with a sigh as he leaned against a tree.
“Where the hell are you, Rook?”
“Near Dutch’s bunker.” He hesitated for a moment. “He… he’s dead.”
“God damn,” the Sheriff said with open regret. “And Joseph Seed?”
“Trapped in the bunker,” Aaron replied.
“Come up to Fall’s End, Rook,” the Sheriff said. “We relocated there. The National Guard arrived a couple of weeks ago. I’ll tell ‘em to keep an eye out for you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aaron tucked his radio away and started jogging along the track. It seemed like a different time since the first time he’d done this and he supposed in a way that was true. Last time, he’d been a little lost, a lot worried and feeling hellaciously out of his depth but still willing to do what he could to un-fuck the situation, as Dutch had put it. Now, he just wanted a beer and some sanity… or as much sanity as the normal residents of Hope Valley could provide.
He hadn’t been on the road that long when a National Guard truck pulled up alongside him and a fresh-faced young guardsman jumped out and ushered him into the truck. Not long after that, they pulled into Fall’s End and as Aaron climbed out of the truck, the Sheriff walked out of the bar.
“Damn, Rook, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” the Sheriff said, gripped his shoulders tightly and smiling. “We had no idea where you and Seed had disappeared to and we feared the worst.”
“What happened?” Aaron asked. “And how long have I been missing?”
“Three weeks on the last. As for the rest…” The Sheriff gave him a nudge in the direction of the bar. “Head inside and get yourself a beer, kid. I’ve just got to sort out a couple of things then I’ll come in and we’ll talk.”
Aaron assumed at least one of those things included Joseph Seed and he was happy to leave that to the Sheriff. He did shake his head at the three weeks though. He could have sworn it had been five but then down in the bunker there had been really no way of accurately telling the passage of time and he suspected Joseph had been fucking with him more than just a little. He pushed open the door of the bar and walked in to find the Pastor there, along with Mary May. They both beamed at him as did Hudson and Pratt when they came down from upstairs.
“Hot damn, Deputy,” Mary May said. “We thought you’d gone and got yourself killed by Joseph when we didn’t hear anything from you.” She pushed a beer towards him. “On the house, Dep. We got new supplies in last week.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said wearily, accepting the clap on the shoulder from the Pastor. He grabbed his beer then Hudson and Pratt lead him over to one of the tables and had him sit down. They joined him but no one said anything until the Sheriff returned.
“Now, Rook,” the Sheriff said. “What happened from your point of view? From the moment Joseph stepped out of the church.”
Aaron took a long swallow of beer then he wrapped his hands around the bottle and stared down at it as he began. “He started talking about the end of the world and blah, blah, blah. Then he said that since I killed his family, he’d take mine. I turned around to find all the friends I’d made here high on the Bliss and holding the three of you at gunpoint. He then told me to choose what to do – basically arrest him or take you guys and leave. I indicated I intended to arrest him. He then tipped over a couple of vats of Bliss and that’s when things got screwed up.”
The Sheriff nodded but Aaron couldn’t tell what he thought from his expression. “Go on.”
“There was a fight,” Aaron said. “I got everyone back on my side and… we all subdued Joseph. Then… then a nuclear bomb went off. You got us all in the truck and Dutch told us to head to his bunker. There were more explosions, three, maybe four and it was like the end of the world. We got to Dutch’s bunker but crashed into a falling tree. You were all dead but Joseph was fine. He dragged me out of the truck and down into the bunker. I passed out and when I came to, I was handcuffed to one of the beds. Joseph went on and on about how he was right and then…” He sighed. “We… settled in. I basically tried to play along until I could get away.”
“You knew it was a Bliss dream?” the Sheriff asked.
Aaron shrugged. “Not specifically but it had occurred to me that it was all a bit over the top for a small valley in Montana that had been essentially cut off from the rest of the world. And it just suited Joseph so much. He’d predicted the end of the world and lo and behold, the world ended. That and I don’t recall Bliss wearing off that quickly.” He smiled wryly. “I figured if I was wrong, I probably wouldn’t have too long to regret it.”
The Sheriff chuckled. “That’s a point. Okay, let me tell you what happened. We all joined you to go get Joseph but there was Bliss everywhere. What you saw and heard at first tallies pretty close to what I saw and heard but Hudson and Pratt saw different things, as did most of the others. Then Seed really got us with that Bliss spill. We mostly just saw boogeymen and bad dreams, though a couple saw nuclear holocaust as well. Turns out those radio broadcasts were by a station owned by the cult being used to isolate people more by makin’ them afraid. Thankfully no one was badly hurt. Tammy and Tracey brought the Cougars and the Whitetail militia in when she couldn’t raise any of us and they got us out. Brought us here and looked after us until they could drag us all out of the Bliss. That was when we realised you weren’t with us. You had us worried, Rook.”
“Your friends have been damn worried too,” Hudson said with a small smile. “And the wife of that Nick Rye fellow has been threatening mayhem and murder if we didn’t find her daughter’s godfather.”
Aaron managed a weary laugh. “Yeah, she’s… small and scary.”
The Sheriff chuckled and got to his feet. “And she wanted you there whenever we found you. Hudson, drive him out to the Rye place and get him settled in. Deputy Cartwright, you are officially on leave for three days. Get some rest, let the Ryes fuss over you and then we’ll talk about what’s going on now the valley’s settled a bit.”
Aaron nodded and let Hudson nudge him out and into a truck. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes, though he couldn’t seem to keep his hands still.
“Sheriff’s been damn worried about you,” Hudson said after a few minutes. “We all have. None of us would have gotten out of this without you and we had no idea what that bastard was doing to you.”
“Preachin’ at me mostly,” Aaron said around a yawn. “Fuck but it was boring pretending to believe him.”
Hudson snorted with amusement. “So that’s what you did.”
Aaron nodded. “Yep. I think he’s gone even more crazy.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
Aaron turned his head a little. “What’s been going on here?”
“Well, after we all came to, the Sheriff headed to Missoula and called in the National Guard,” Hudson replied. “He left Pratt and me here to sort things out and when he got back with the Guard, he set them to patrolling the roads until we can round up whatever’s left of the Peggies. We closed down the radio station but it’s been reopened by some guy named Wheaty who was with the Whitetails. He and his people are broadcasting real news and some pretty decent music.” She glanced over at him. “The Sheriff needs to get back home though in order to coordinate things and… well, Pratt needs help. He’ll even admit that if you catch him at the right time. And I… I just want to get out of this hell hole.” She paused again. “I think he wants you to stay. He’s been talking to people here and they like the idea of a… Sheriff’s outpost or something in the valley.”
“They’ve never been ones for law enforcement in the past,” Aaron said quietly.
Hudson snorted. “And look where that got them. Besides, I think they still wouldn’t be too enthused if it was anyone other than you that the Sheriff was suggesting. These people like you.”
“The Sheriff know you’re telling me this?”
Hudson laughed. “Yeah, he does. He wanted me to float the idea with you so you’ve got time to think about it and also so you didn’t get blindsided by one of the locals, ‘cause I figure they’re going to be lining up to chat once the word gets out we’ve found you.”
They’d arrived at the Rye’s home and airfield by then and Nick had emerged, gun in hand and a wary look on his face that transformed into a wide, welcoming grin when he saw Aaron.
“Well, I’ll be damned! Deputy!” He turned and bellowed, “KIM! KIM! They found the Deputy!”
“Well, get him in here!” came the shouted reply from inside, closely followed by the sound of a baby’s yell.
Hudson was laughing quietly and she gave him a gentle shove. “You heard the woman, Rook. Get in there.”
Not that Aaron had much choice when Nick threw an arm over his shoulders and drew him inside, talking a mile a minute, mostly about nonsense. Once he was inside, Kim took over and Aaron felt like he’d been caught up in a whirlwind. A friendly, joyous whirlwind that saw him showered, in clean clothes, fed and watered and then ushered into their guest bedroom.
“You get some sleep now, Aaron,” Kim said. “You look just about dead on your feet.”
Aaron nodded then caught one of Kim’s hands. “Thanks.”
Kim smiled then leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “We’re the ones who should be thanking you. We’re safe now because of you. Now get some sleep.”
Aaron watched her go and closed the door behind her. He stripped down to his underwear then crawled into the soft, lovely bed. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
*****
Aaron had pretty much slept for most of his first two days of leave and when he got up on the third day, he found the house full of some very familiar faces. Even Boomer was inside, being made a fuss of by Jess, and he could hear Peaches yowling outside along with Cheeseburger rumbling and grumbling. He leaned in the doorway and just started laughing softly.
“Hey, Dep,” Nick said when he caught sight of him. He was pretending to look annoyed at all the people in his house but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Kim looked delighted and was proudly showing off their baby who was apparently happy to be held by anyone who wanted to. “We got inundated.”
“So I see.”
He was caught up in various greetings from the others and it took a while before he could sit down on the couch with Boomer resting his head on his knee. He scratched the dog’s ears and chuckled as Boomer yipped with happiness and drooled on his leg a bit.
“So what’s been happening?” he finally asked.
“Damn Peggies are on the run,” Adelaide said with smug satisfaction and the others nodded.
“With Joseph gone, they’re pretty much rudderless,” Grace added. “And disillusioned, some of ‘em. Didn’t much like that their leader up and ran off without them.”
“And without the other Seeds, there was no one to keep ‘em under control,” Nick said. “Some of the Lieutenants have been trying to maintain some sort of control though and it’s working better with some than others.”
“There’s still work to do,” Jess said, her face set and firm.
“Has the Sheriff told you what he’s planning?” Tammy asked from where she was leaning against the wall.
“Hudson mentioned it,” Aaron replied. “It’s got some support from what she said.”
“It has,” Tammy replied. “Even Wheaty’s all for it.” She smiled slightly and Aaron gave a sigh of relief. Wheaty had been harder and more suspicious since Eli’s death but maybe he’d been forgiven a little now. “You were here for us. You saved us. And you maybe understand this place now a bit better than most.”
“That’s if you want the job, dude,” Sharky said. “Don’t let the Man railroad you, Dep. That ain’t cool.”
Aaron laughed. “I kind of like the idea. I’m not sure people outside here would…” He trailed off, not entirely sure he knew what he wanted to say but the others started nodding.
“They wouldn’t understand why you did what you did,” Tracey said. “But we do. We lived with all this shit. We knew how bad it was and why ordinary measures wouldn’t work.”
“I’m still a Deputy Sheriff, you know,” Aaron said with a wry smile. “And at some point, the law has to prevail.”
“Yeah, but you’re cool though,” Hurk said. “Bet if you arrested me for being, you know, drunk in a public place or whatever, you wouldn’t make me sleep outside or nothing.”
Aaron chuckled. “No, Hurk, that’s what the cells are for. You sleep it off, I give you a lecture in the morning and send you home.”
“Aw, man,” Hurk said, looking crestfallen. “You sure I couldn’t stay for a day or two? Daddy gets real mad when I’ve been drinking.”
“Yeah, sure. Okay,” Aaron said, unable to conceal his grin.
Hurk lit up. “Yeah! Alright, man. See, I said you was cool and you are.”
Adelaide laughed and shook her head. “I’d suggest you don’t encourage him but… at least you keep him under some sort of control.”
“Aw, Mama,” Hurk said bashfully.
Adelaide rolled her eyes then fixed her gaze on Aaron. “So what happened, Deputy? We were all heading for Joseph’s compound to help you out then the next thing we know, we’re waking up from the damn Bliss.”
“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure,” Aaron said. “I know what I perceived and I know what Joseph believed but what actually happened beyond going there to arrest him… I don’t know.”
“What you perceived?” Tammy asked. “What? You mean, like what Jacob did?”
Aaron shook his head. “No, this was the Bliss. I think maybe people become very suggestible under the effects of the Bliss.”
“Makes sense, man,” Sharky said. “Those flowers they were fucking around with are full of scopolamine.” When everyone stared at him with surprise, he glared at them. “I ain’t stupid, man. Those flowers are some weird form of Angel’s Trumpets. They’re full of scopolamine and other shit that can cause auditory and visual hallucinations among other things that suck. And god knows what those fucking Peggies had been doing to them once they started processing them to make the Bliss.”
“Add the Bliss to the fact that Hope County had been effectively cut off from the world and the cult owned all the radio stations and…” Aaron shrugged. “It’s easy to see how Joseph could have manipulated things into an end of the world scenario. That’s what I saw. Nuclear holocaust.”
“Damn, man,” Nick said quietly. “How’d you know it was fake?”
“Because it was overkill,” Aaron replied. “I don’t know whether Joseph was feeding me ideas or whether my mind did it to try and poke at me but… there were three or four bombs that went off… in a small insignificant county in the middle of Montana. Then everything was on fire, all the trees, even the animals, yet we were in a car, driving along and not feeling any of that heat, let alone being touched by it. I mean, for a start, if it was that hot, the tires should have been melting. Then somehow we had an accident that killed the Sheriff, Hudson and Pratt and yet left Joseph and me practically untouched. Then despite being exposed to radiation from the three or four bombs that had gone off, Joseph and I showed no signs of radiation sickness, which we should have started seeing within hours. Once everything calmed down and I had time to think… there were just too many inconsistencies. It made no sense.”
Tammy chuckled. “You mean Joseph couldn’t just have the end of the world, he had to have the biggest, most extravagant end of the world there possibly could be?”
“If he was whispering in my ear and influencing what I was seeing, then yep, so it seems,” Aaron said with a wry smile.
“What happened to him?” Tracey said with a glint in her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure the National Guard have dragged him out of Dutch’s bunker and have him in custody by now,” Aaron replied. “Mind you, I think he’s gone off the deep end as well so he may never make it to a court room except to be declared legally insane before being shipped off to a hospital.”
“He deserves more than that,” Tracey growled.
“Naw, this is good,” Nick said. “He’s going to be declared officially nuts and be locked up. He ain’t coming back and even if he did, his family’s dead. Kim’s spoken to a lawyer and they reckon that under the circumstances, it shouldn’t be too difficult to revert all the property the Seeds bought up back to the original owners now that there’s no one who officially owns it.” He grinned. “And I reckon the gov’ment won’t argue too much, given they did shit to help us.”
“We should even be able to spruce up a building to act as a police station,” Grace said, flicking a brief grin at Aaron.
“You’re all assuming I’m going to say yes,” Aaron said dryly.
“Well, ain’t ya?” Sharky exclaimed incredulously. “I mean, who’s going to look after Boomer and Peaches and ol’ Cheeseburger if you go?”
Boomer whined pathetically and gave Aaron an impressive set of puppy eyes and outside he heard Peaches yowl and Cheeseburger roar as though they’d heard and understood what Sharky said. He shook his head and laughed at all of them.
“Well, we can’t have them being abandoned,” he said with a smile.
“Hell, yeah,” Sharky yelled, pumping his fist with triumph.
“Stop that,” Kim said, smacking Sharky on the arm. “Don’t you let these idiots push you into something you don’t want to do, Deputy.”
Aaron chuckled. “It’s okay. I was pretty well convinced after Hudson spoke to me.”
“Awesome,” Nick said, his grin wide and happy. “Our daughter needs her godfather around.”
Aaron leaned back on the couch and just smiled. It wasn’t going to be easy cleaning up this mess but it’d be worth it to make sure these people would be looked after.
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"I am thou, thou art me."
"I am thou, thou art me!" They announced in unison.
A series of qualms infiltrated the beast within — a heart, so naive to the horrors of the world. Exposed to the horrific incidents that had befallen this house.
My name is Atlas Marsier, currently 24 years old, I work as a Physical Chemist, fundamentally, we research new chemical properties, and from that, we create new pharmaceutical products.
I was five when I was introduced to the household's maxim, "I am thou, thou art me!" (I know quite common, yet I still found it odd). Questions weren't always met with positive reactions, at least in the family. Due to this, I grew up learning by myself, personally preferring chemistry over other matters, learning how the world functioned inside a solitary pen, away from society. My father, Avery Marsier was a respected man, beloved by the people around him, because of his inherent charisma, people were drawn towards him, towards his ideals, to a cause greater than himself. And so, he decided to establish his own community, revolving around the concept of occultism and parity (an unlikely pair).
But, I digress.
Most of you have presumably heard of the "Jonestown Massacre," if you don't, I'll provide a little context. The "Jonestown Massacre" was a dreadful event in history that occurred in Guyana, wherein approximately 918 people died from food poisoning, essentially, it was a flavored beverage — some calling it "Kool-Aid" which was laced with potassium cyanide (KCN).
My grandfather, Calien Marsier, was a firm believer in their cult leader, Jim Jones — a white minister who preached unconventional socialist and progressive ideas to a predominantly African-American community, thus, that was how the People's Temple was formed. My grandfather was one of the few people who also believed in the equality of all, to rid of racial discrimination.
Though, my great grandfather fled to Indianapolis after the massacre, after being subjected to so many dead bodies, leaving him traumatized, and attempting so many occultist ways to ask for forgiveness from those who had died. He passed it onto his family, saying it was his Kins' burden to carry, to do what he could not, to ask for forgiveness from the damned.
It was two days ago when I got stuck inside this haze of a dream, a belligerent phase in between reality and fiction. Though, maybe it was due to those red eyes that lingered in the darkness, or maybe due to the decaying mixture of blood and food, or perhaps the inhumane growling that has been sending chills down my spine. Nonetheless, I believe that my life is facing an immotile peril, which is the sole reason that I am writing this.
The phenomena were as vivid as daylight entering the eyes. Two days ago, I was researching the possibility of Potassium (K) manipulating the nerve cells to function adequately when a buzzing rang inside my ear, it was a ringtone from a phone, my phone. Slowly, I unlocked it only to see that my Sister from Indianapolis was calling me. I hesitated, unable to answer the dark memory that haunted me to this day, though ultimately, I gave up and answered the device that rang endlessly.
"Hello? Sarina?" I called, my voice cracking delicately.
"Yes, hello? Atlas, is that you? Gosh, it's been so long," her soft voice, a mellow autumn that brought a sense of relief. I was glad, I hadn't spoken to family in so long, but if I truly wanted to forget, I should have avoided this call.
"Atlas, Father is at his deathbed..." There was a brief silence, a monotonous tone that was unable to lull this heart of mine, deliberately booming with dismay and anguish.
"Atlas? Are you still there?" She consulted breaking me away from my anticipated trance.
"Uhh... Yeah, I'm still here... It's just, it's too much to take in, sorry," I muttered over the phone truthfully.
"We all know what Father did to you, but, please just this time, see him off, he so badly wants to see you!" She sighed on the other line, and I felt my heart wrench, her muffled cries were audibly clear.
I scratched the back of my head, unable to come to amends with the decisions that scrambled inside my barren abyss.
"Please..." She pleaded, an unbearable break in her voice.
And, on a whim, I mumbled, "Ok, but only for you, and Janne!" A sigh of relief following after.
"Thank you!" She retorted, immediately ending the call after.
I was met with the once monotonous tone of the dead phone as rain pelted through the glass of the laboratory I was situated in. The sensation was dreadful, knowing that a family member was nearing demise was horrendous in itself, though another reason deterred my conscience from going back home.
And so, I drove into the silent night, every inch of darkness consuming my car, the headlights being the only source of light. Soon after, a morose emotion took over, it was my old house, and upon meeting it, a looming gloom that seemingly was withering away along with the wooden structure met my eyes — recollections of a murky past that haunted my very being.
Slowly parking my car in the driveway, I departed towards the deathly reality of my history. My sister stood on the porch at the dead of night, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks that were somehow lit by the faint glimmer of the moon.
"Glad that you're here, Atlas. Janne also just got here," I nodded, peeling off the leather cloth that glued onto my skin, liquid gushing down the fabric.
I inspected the window beside us. Instantly flooding my sight was the ample amount of my father's cult members, solemnly sobbing and whimpering inside the living room. It bothered me, a son like me was distant from his own father, yet people who aren't even blood-related to us were bawling their eyes out. They seemed more of a family than I.
Gagging the discomfort away, my sister yanked me through the hallways — a grandeur, Victorian-inspired ancient home, crumbling due to old age. Deliberately, we ascended the stairs, then a familiar set of orbs locked onto mine.
It was my sister's.
"Janne? I've missed you so so much!" I mumbled, as to not attract any unwanted attention. The owner of the ocean-like spheres beamed and hauled me into a tight embrace — I was the youngest out of the three, and these two were the only ones who've ever treated me like I was part of the household.
"I've missed you, Atlas! It's just sad to see that the only time we all gathered together was at our father's deathbed," Janne extended her arms out to Sarina, Sarina directly accepting the gesture.
We stood there, for quite a while hugging, reminiscing about our days together.
"I guess we all wanted to leave this house," Sarina murmured, her once solemn manner, replaced by a warming smile, a smile that gave me a brief reminder that I was truly back home.
"Yeah..." I managed to blurt out.
We started pacing towards the uppermost master bedroom, my Father's room. And, upon ascending the last flight of stairs, I was immediately met with peculiar eyes, staring right into my soul, slowly drilling away what was left of my sanity which reduced my composure with each passing second.
I excused myself, passing through those demeaning eyes. Eyes that held expectations, it held all kinds of things, and it belonged to my Father's executive cult members. Scrutiny wasn't handled in a calculated manner, and so I shifted my gaze towards the ground, hastening my pace towards my dreaded Father's room.
And there, the horrors began to reminisce, the abuse, the pain, wounds, and bruises that were unable to move on from their horrid history. My chest tightened ever-so-slowly, it felt like I was being constricted, towards death itself, just like this old ragged man before me.
Old white hair, meager to remove itself from the depths of his scalp. Skin, wrinkly as age could have folded, pale as a corpse, yet refusing to give his last breath.
"Can you leave both me and my son in the room? I would like to have a word with him, privately..." He coughed, spitting blood all over his red-stained sheets.
They all rapidly dissipated, like smoke, even the souls of my sisters were not present inside the room. Then, it hit me, I was alone, with the gloom that haunted my very being all of my life, an agonizing one at that.
"Son, Atlas... I'm deeply ashamed of the way you've grown to fear me. Let fear not shape you, instead, let your courage mold you," the pale man coughed once more, spouting red oozing liquid from his mouth. I pitied him, oddly enough.
"I just wanted you to know that it was never my intention to do any of those horrible things to you," he mumbled, his raspy voice laced with a hint of discomfort. This caused something within me to snap — an anger that built itself upon fear, anger that fed on hatred, and it was inclined to the idea of bursting out.
"To what?! Kicking me in the stomach? Beating me until I was unconscious? Or maybe, it was slitting my wrists with a knife?! And, let's not forget you, mixing Cyanide with the beverage for your members, you're lucky I found that one before they could have killed themselves!" I felt my chest lighten, a series of breaths that seemed to ease the beast within — a heart that held all of the resentment and bitterness, flaring like wildfire.
"No... I did not do any of that!" A tear rolled down his saggy cheeks.
"Then who did?!" I retorted. He yanked my hand, nearing my ears until he uttered.
"You're the key, you need to find out, you need to save those damned souls, Atlas! And, I hope that you may come to forgive me when you come to confirm my suspicions. Inside my office, there is a hidden passage, you've accidentally entered it before. You can find my journal there," He coughed again, more blood spewing out of his maws, his eyes slowly turning bloodshot. And, it scared me, what if I was loathing an innocent person?
But, it couldn't be, it was him, every single time.
My curiosity was piqued, and the thought frightened me immensely.
"Plea—" his eyes gazed into the vast nothingness, bloodshot, and lifeless. His head hung down from the pillow as tears began to trickle down from my tear ducts. I was scared, frightened of being truly alone. My father laid there, motionless, everything was followed by a loud bang, the door opening, and people flooding the room, and I sat there, incapable, limp from the dread of death of a family member.
Soon after all of the tears, I met my sisters, talking to a black woman who, if my memory does not serve me wrong, was also a member of Father's cult.
"Yes, Sarina, embalming your father will take approximately two days, the Priest will also come by in two days, and I'm heartbroken of your loss, goodbye!" She nodded and went off into the street at the break of dawn. Makeup, stained from all of the inherent crying.
"Sarina, Janne, are you busy? I'd like you to help me with something, of course, if you aren't," I said shyly, clawing the back of my head.
"Well, surely, we can make time," Janne tubbed my back as a form of assurance, slowly pacing off into my deceased Father's office.
"Remind us what we're doing here again?" Sarina inquired.
"Well, to put it simply, Father said that he wasn't the one who did all of those horrible things to me, and I'm here to find out if he's telling the truth. I don't want to live, hating someone all of my life!" They must have the perceived integrity in my gazes, and so they asked no further.
"So, what are we doing exactly?" Janne queried.
"See those tiny metallic letter blocks on Father's table? We're supposed to find the correct code," I mumbled analyzing shelves and shelves of books that had placed themselves before me.
I fiddled with the books, lining upon my sight when a faded book cover caught my eye. It was a book entitled, "Narrative of Life," the author was a black slave during the 1800s, who wrote about the continued racial oppression, his journey of ending the oppression, and gaining his freedom.
And, upon inspecting the cover closely, I discovered the familiar set of hollowed-out number placeholder. Grabbing the "L" of the "Life," which disclosed a four-number combination that was to be filled by the metallic blocks.
"I remember him, Frederick Douglass, he was the one who said, "This fourth of July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn," signifying that the Blacks' were never truly free," Sarina elucidated, as she fiddled with the metallic placeholder.
"Yes, I remember now. Janne, spell "July" inside the four-letter placeholder. It's the 4th of July, 4 letters, and the date that the author said the statement!" I said, Janne deliberately placed the letters one by one on the book, whilst we were waiting for a reaction from any of the contraptions.
"Nothing!" Janne sighed, placing the book on the table, and accidentally closing the lid of the container.
An abrupt quake frightened our notions — a dissatisfied one. The floor started cracking, revealing a dimly lit staircase right below the table, and within that single second, it hit me, the fear, of knowing the truth, of knowing that I might have hated the wrong person most of my life.
I trekked into the darkness, flashing my phone over the darkness, carefully treading towards the enigma when I accidentally bumped into a tough substance. It was a bulb, enclosed in networks of webs. Pulling off the silk from the contraption, I tugged onto the string, instantly causing the bulb to turn on.
"What is this place?" Sarina questioned.
"I accidentally entered here before, which was why I got beaten until I was unconscious. It's Father's Research Room," I informed them, both unable to take their quizzical stares from the substances that were hidden inside the room.
"What's this? It says "Jonestown Journal." Entry number 1, Guyana, October 21, 1978. Journal, during our council meeting, Jones has showed signs of severe psychosis, he doesn't want to lose the lawsuit as it will greatly influence the power of the community. I'm worried, he's been talking to thin air, and I, along with the other inner-circle members are deathly afraid of him," Sarina read. I motioned her to proceed to which she gladly obliged.
"Entry number 7, Guyana, October 30, 1978. I ordered a plane on the 23rd of November. I need to escape from this place, even the inner-circle members want to escape, Jones is slowly losing himself. Every night, I dream of a catastrophe made by himself, I hope it only stays in my nightmares," She finished, immediately flipping the pages.
"Entry number 16, Guyana, November 16, 1978. I saw the Psychopath beat a black child until he was lifeless, I couldn't save him, I've reported to the authorities, but none believed me, the locals all believed the minister. And, also, I saw him in my dreams, his eyes bloodshot, puking a puddle of blood, pointing towards me, and saying that it was all of my fault!" She tossed a few more pages.
"Entry number 18, Guyana, November 18, 1978. This madman fooled his Black cult members! He termed it a "Revolutionary Suicide," I talked to the investigator, he wouldn't believe me! He distributed a beverage laced with cyanide throughout the whole cult. I warned them, but they wouldn't listen!" She gasped, utter disbelief coming off of her mouth.
"Should I continue?" Sarina asked, wanting assurance before anything else, to which I nodded as an affirmation.
"Entry number 28, Indianapolis, November 28, 1978. I arrived last afternoon in here. They've published articles of the massacre I couldn't stop, this was in my dream. And, speaking of dreams, I had a dream last night, there were eyes, bloodshot eyes that stared at me in hatred, fangs that wanted to raze my very being, and I reckon they were nearing a thousand. There were also carvings on the roadside, something about an "Andras," and not only that, Jones, was hunting me, with a sickle, he wanted me to drink the poisonous liquid as well," Sarina muttered, her worry intensifying.
"Read the last part, I need to know what Father wanted to tell me," I told Sarina, she flipped to the last page, a single strand of paper left inside the journal.
"Entry number 836, Indianapolis, July 6, 2021. Ever since my father died, the same dream he was narrating, passed onto me. What he did to me, he wasn't the one who did it, it wasn't those thousands of red eyes and the owners of the boiling blood puddles either. My death is nearing, this is my last entry, and my son is the only one who can put an end to this curse, he can liberate them. The pills are inside the drawers, focus, and let yourself slip into The Nether. But, beware, isolate yourself as to not hurt anyone, you are susceptible to possession in this phase. Chant the family maxim three times, it'll place you in the correct body," Janne and Sarina turned their attention towards me, I slowly paced towards the drawers, snatching a bottle of pills — pills that melted in the dark background, a shade of vantablack, and it sent the ripples inside my tiny mind in disarray.
I eyed both of my sisters, wanting both of them to remove themselves from harm's way, Sarina nodded in affirmation, although Janne begged to differ. She willfully attempted to stop my attempt, and I appreciated her worry, but the truth was the only thing that could set me free from these wretched chains filled with immeasurable doubt.
"I need to do this, Janne, please!" I pleaded, wanting her to get out of the room, and away from the chamber.
"Please, come back, we don't want to lose you as well!" Janne managed to blurt out which gave rise to a smile.
"I'll return, I promise," I assured her, swallowing the pill, along with the entrance closing, leaving me in the dimly lit chamber. Senses, gradually dulling, a paling darkness, along with those horrific red eyes. The body, unable to move at will, fear eventually swallowing the abyss into a sluggish and agonizing insanity.
"I am thou, thou art me! I am thou, thou art me! I am thou, thou art me!" I muttered through the tips of my lips. The darkness eating my conscience away.
Frigid concrete caressing my cheeks, body, lying on the cold hard ground. Shadows, spanning as wide as the eye could see, it almost seemed like a town, an abandoned one, and situated at the very tip of the town was a building, seemingly unaffected by the apprehensive aura of the darkness.
It looked almost like a temple.
The scrutiny shaped itself in the form of the red eyes, maws craving a soul, and a body that was to be torn, limb from limb. Yet, they were incapable of advancing, as if they were scared... of something.
"Calien? Where are you going? I need you to persuade the inner circle, we desire to make a statement, and do it we shall," he laughed... in a twisted and horrid way, it scared me to death, the psychotic look painted on his face was absolutely appalling.
"I-I'm going... uhmm... Jim?" I stuttered, fear getting the better of my sanity. It would be the most tactical idea, to play into the enemy's arms, and from the inside, destroy the structure of the community.
"Very well, Marsier, let us head to the People's Temple!" My grandfather? Peculiar, was I seeing things through his eyes?
"I am thou, thou art me," a shuddered whisper rang inside my ears, a familiar raspiness to the tone, almost like I've known the person all of my life.
"It's luring you... run!" The murmurs moved along with the wind, a sequel of dull heartbeats following after.
Taking the warning, I slowly paced away from Jones, my body pursuing the source of the voices. The murderer must've been too occupied in his daydreams, clarifying that everything was just a misinterpretation, or so it seemed.
But, still, I couldn't get that twisted smirk of his away from my mind, and it bothered me with each passing second.
"Where did you go? Those red eyes and sharp fangs aren't your companions, I advise you to stay away from them!" He shouted with a melody that was almost taunting as if he was questioning my intentions, and it terrified me. After all, the human mind can only endure so much.
Then, a sudden tug on my shoulder alarmed me. It was one of those red eyes, yanking me, all too forceful. Me, fearing for dear life, fought back, only to meet the puddle of blood soaking my face, and percolating inside my eyes.
This was it, death, a gruesome demise. And, for a second, a darkness blanketed my eyes, yet it oddly felt relieving, like it was not meant to kill.
"Stand up! We have much to talk about!" It was a black man, tugging my shoulders, a person, amongst many others.
"Where are those demons?!" I yelled, a wave of panic rushing inside me.
"There's only one demon here," he mumbled, pulling me inside a barren shack, only a single vial of red liquid caught my eye which the man promptly took, about five canisters of fine silver nitrate — easily distinguished if examined by a chemist's eyes, one look was all it took and a dull-looking kris.
"That temple was a sacred ground, me, along with my family have been protecting that place. This is the blood of Jesus, our order salvaged the blood from France, my father, warning us that Jones was planning something sinister, that we need the blood to stop the catastrophe, and that he sensed a demonic presence," I stared at him, demented, frightened by the things that he was spouting.
"That temple is a gateway for evil, wherein the connection between our world and the world beyond ours is severely weakened. Unbeknownst to us, after hearing about the future of his lawsuit, Jones became angry, and with that anger, he accidentally summoned a demon, a demon named Andras, who has been manipulating him to do his vile bidding," he finished, the name grew familiar inside my abyss, it was at the verge of my thoughts, but it was all but futile.
"Andras, detecting the presence of the blood of Christ, started to order home-to-home raids. And eventually, after failing to find the treasure, manipulated the whole community to commit mass suicide," my eyes widened, learning the truth behind the catastrophe seemingly drained my capacity to reason.
"I am thou, and thou art me. My spirit has provided the means to rid of this demon and to finally liberate us, I needed pure people, and your grandfather was as pure as can be. But, none dared to come near the illusions, to us," he sighed, scratching the back of his head in slight annoyance.
"You, luckily, managed to get our blood into your eyes which caused you to finally see the truth," he said, placing the vial of blood inside of my hands.
"If I had a physical body like yours, I would have done this a long time. But, I'm only a spirit, and you have to be the one to save all of us. To be the one to finally banish that demon!" I sighed, escaping peril was only the half of it, I had to come back as well.
I was about to refuse when I recollected, this plight would have no end, a curse that is passed through each member of the family once the holder dies. I bit my lip, anxious about all the possibilities that may transpire, and then it hit me.
"I need those silver nitrates, and I'll take the kris!" An idea instantly coming into mind, I tightened my grip on the canister, on my right, the blood of Christ, and the kris inside my mouth.
"You need to draw a cross on Jones' forehead, or it would be nothing but futile," the man yelled, as I walked towards the temple, the existence of the Nether, and the danger that lurks within, no longer feared.
The once dark-enclosed city inverting shades with the temple which now held a distinguished gloom. Despite the fear, and despite all of the emotions trickling within, hope seemed to fuel my very being, and so, I continuously took the path towards the unknown, with hope.
The gloom embraced all of the vicinity, crosses near the mass graveyard turning upside down as I paced right past them. A series of unnerving claps resonated behind me, and it was no other than the demon himself, Jones. He held a large sickle, his eyes drooping in agony, blood flowing down his eyes, in an effort of hesitation.
It seemed like he didn't want it like he was being forced. A stream of blood came from his mouth, puking out guts onto the dirt which forced me to squeal. And, as if on cue, my legs mindlessly ran towards a ragged building, a series of bloodstains, and organs, left about for flies to infest.
I headed towards the leftmost chairs, hiding behind the brittle wood, and removing the handle of the blade from my mouth. Opening the lid of the canister, I deliberately scattered the silver nitrate on the wooden chair, slowly moving towards the backrooms of the temple.
"Hide, little man! Because when I find you, I'll make sure that you savor every last bit of my drink!" The demon hissed, a hoarse voice that encapsulated the soul in a strange tingle of fear. A maniacal laugh following after.
I slid through the stone slabs, only to find a whole table of corpses, choking on their own blood, guts, and innards spawled on the floor.
"This is what happened to the inner circle, Calien. Poor them, they should have stayed as loyal lapdogs!" Jones laughed maniacally, his grin protruding towards his ears. It was a horrific sight, and I could feel my hands, shivering from fright.
"I saw an empty canister just outside, you should have been more careful," the demon taunted, causing me to frown.
"You demon, you murderer, I'll never forgive you!" I said pathetically, my eyes void of life, with the hope being the only fuel.
"You pitiful human, I've slaughtered billions of lives, and I couldn't care any less. You, humans, are of no significance, just like all of them!" He hissed, jumping onto me with a sickle in hand.
He attempted to slice my neck with the sickle which to my luck, I dodged. Soon after, he pressed the sickle towards my face, attempting to overpower me, my left hand struggling to keep his hand from advancing, and ultimately, slicing my face open.
"Imagine losing to something you call insignificant, Andras!" I yelled in its face, spitting as a form of aggravation.
The strength in his arms gradually increasing with each second, his once pale face growing feathers, into a shape of a horrifying beast, limbs turning pale, blood dripping from the tip of its mouth, eyes that perpetually gushed blood. I pushed with all of my might, which resulted in the blade slipping on my palms, leaving a minor wound.
"You fo—" And, before the demon was able to finish his words, I clinked the kris onto the stone, causing sparks to fly out of the steel end of the blade, and into the silver nitrate, which resulted in a strong explosion.
Both of our limp bodies flew into the air and landing on the ground. The demonic transgression from Jones slowly fading along with the demon that possessed him. I limped towards his body, noticing that his face was burnt in half, and the blade nowhere to be seen. I took the initiative to limp towards him, head still filled with angst, and a vision clouded with haze.
I examined his body, assuming that he was dead due to the dismal lack of beats from his heart. When a hand instantly grabbed me by my neck, choking, trying to grasp even the tiniest amount of air.
But, it was futile.
"Fool, do you really believe you can kill me? I am a Marquis of hell, instigator of discord, of anger!" He tightened his grip on my neck, causing me to scream in pain.
"Go... to... Hell!" I yelled, destroying the vial with my hands, glass penetrating through my thick palms. And, on a whim, I drew a cross on the demon's forehead, which caused him to scream in agony, whilst his slowly deteriorating body blew along with the wind.
I was dropped on the ground, unable to fix the syncopation in my breathing. A strong smell of iron infiltrated the nose, the dissipation of light following after.
I unlocked both of my eyes, sunlight infiltrating both of my orbs. The hazy dream felt all too real, and it caused a certain rush of panic. Then, I was met with two familiar faces.
"Janne? Sarina?" Embracing both of them in a tight hug, relief overflowed through my system. The plight was finally over, the demon was finally gone.
"The malevolence I've sensed has dissipated, Janne and Sarina! A miracle must've happened!" A man, dressed in priest-like garments announced, which resulted in a fit of smiles.
I glanced at the searing pain in my palms, a minor wound, fresh, and clean.
It was real after all, and I'm glad that this curse is finally over.
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DOTO: Gameplay Trailer Breakdown
Ok so here is me going through the trailer and looking for little details hidden in the background of scenes and whatever else there is. I want to note, I definitely missed stuff! Even with slowing down the trailer down some of the scenes just flickered to fast for me to get everything, which is no doubt what they want so I’m not going to try too hard.
Also I’ll be doing smaller bunches of posts on specific items if you don’t want to look through a huge piece of work like this! Here we go!
First scene is with an Immortal Envisioned. Definitely in the void, which seems to be heading back into the first games version of pulling real world locations into it, but keeping with 2′s black towering pillars of stone.
Drop assassination time! Also looking at this shot we appear to be over a canal or dam like structure. And if you look at Billie’s left arm, she has an incendiary bolt in her little electric wrist launcher! Definitely is reminiscent of Dauds in his DLCs but a bit fancier.
Now I include this shot only because it shows whats behind Billie, a little part of the environment not meant really to be scene. The sign is what caught my attention, and while the first word I can’t make out (probably a name, it seems to be ??rozenar), the second word is definitely Taxidermy. Something to do with one of the targets? A simple shop to loot or use as an alternate route? One of the side targets they’ve been advertising? We’ll have to wait and see.
Guard on fire in background, and this guy I’m only really noting cause he looks to almost be wearing the same clothes as Stilton. Nothing too special but I liked it.
This is sort of becoming the shot for Billie. Her at the controls of her ship, in undoubtedly the void. The fact that we keep returning to this image definitely makes me think that something big will happen surrounding it. Maybe her ship will enter the void?
Heck yeah heck yeah heck yeah. I can see from here Addemire and possibly distantly the Duke’s mansion. We also seem to be looking at a river near the left that leads to the ocean, making me return to the one screenshot of the canal. Are we heading up river throughout this journey?
Unfortunately after this point the screen fades to black so I can’t see more of what her Wanted poster says. BUT INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH, Billie has both eyes in this poster. No weird rock eye, none of it scarred over. Both eyes, completely intact. That is a huge deal considering things, and brings up the question then, why is she still missing an arm? Was Aramis saved? Is she still missing an eye or did she decide just to jab a rock into it for the aesthetic?
At the boxing club! Ok listen, they definitely repurposed a swimming pool location. Daud is in a cage in the pool while they built the fighting ring on top. Its certainly a cool little detail!
Now, Daud in his cage. I’m pretty sure electricity usually shows up blue in this game, so seeing it being weird gold glittery affect makes me think maybe its not straight up electricity like I originally thought. There are old Delilah coven witches around this place, so it is possible they hooked something interesting up.
This looks like the same location Billie sneaked into in the announce trailer almost. Also to the right a broken section that could be a way to sneak inside.
Hey witch! I have a load of screenshots of them cause boy howdy are they interesting. But no doubt these are Delilah’s witches without the flowers, same hat same model and everything.
Ouch. But whats interesting to me is the fact that. These witches are scarred the hell out. Now I’ve never looked at them up close in base game, but I never noticed them having this level of scars. Also on her shoulder you can see a peek of the cult symbol, confirming that the witches are definitely part of this new cult.
Momentary pull back from the witches to look at Billie’s hand and sword. She has her weird creepy void arm already, but, no Outsider sword yet. I’m assuming she frees Daud and then in a later mission gets the sword then.
Now we can see in better view that she definitely has the cult’s symbol tattooed on her chest. Also, more scarring at her mouth. And another witch in the background! Hi friend!
I don’t think it surprised anyone that Daud still has his powers. Once given, the Outsider doesn’t seem interested in taking anyone’s powers, only Delilah ever did that.
A few things here! Sure sure wanted Daud poster, saying that Empress Emily Kaldwin will pay a large fee for Daud’s head, thats all to be expected. But lets look at what Daud’s considering. First, the map is of Upper Cyria District. In 2, Cyria Gardens was where the Royal Conservatory was located, so apparently we’ll be seeing another part of this location. The two notes on it are a bit hard to read due to the font, and what I got is “The Red ?Canellia?” and “Eyeless ? ?”. I really have no idea. But the eyeless connects to the newspaper article that says “Eyeless Remain Eyesore for our City”. What are the Eyeless? now it doesn’t seem to be one of the mentioned enemies, maybe some kind of disease that the cult is causing? Whatever the reason, Daud and Billie are researching them and where they come from.
Out of that now, here is Billie taking someone’s face as her own. The curious thing is what it does to the people whose face she takes. Their face appear to become stone and the process knocks them out. If we could see the people’s face while this is happening would be cool but Billie appears to be adding to the very “Everything is stone” aesthetic of this expansion
God there is so much about this setting, and it reminds me of when we went into Delilah’s world to take her out. More on this later in the trailer that has better screenshots.
Hey cultist guy! He has the tattoo on his face which is sort of? Very obvious with it considering he lives in a time where you can get killed for being a heretic, but whatever. He also has this weird needle sticking in him thats either taking blood from him (Which like why from the wrist dude) or injecting something. Maybe its the process that makes the aristocrats into weird glowing eye people as we see later on?
HEY LADY WHO ARE YOU? An Oracular sister or no? She definitely has a new character model which makes me think she may be a target of ours. Everything around her suggests she is part of the Oracular Order, but I’m sort of disappointed in no mask. Maybe the other sisters have masks instead and she’s special cause she’s a leader?
Looks like the Outsider is visiting Billie on board her ship. It goes back to that whole line “You know we’re coming for you.” Does he care? Is he making preparations? Or is he just lounging around being cryptic and saying “come at me bro”
Also what is this? Definitely the same scene and location, extremely threatening though. It reminds me almost of when the Outsider catches Emily and Corvo from falling to their dooms in 2, except while in that situation it was a bit more caring, this seems so much more harsh like he’s trying to push Billie down. Maybe the Outsider is fighting back a little bit.
Daud again. So far his blink ability has been used non stop by this guy. I’m imagining he’s going to show up in different parts of levels like “I have some advice on what to do” or whatever. The background is a bit ambiguous but my guess is the void.
This is it. The scene that is oh so delicious. There are statues leading up to the Outsider. Lamps pointed towards him, everything circling around to his one point and disappearing behind him. Final confrontation scene? But the statues make me think that, we aren’t going to be the only one’s gunning for him. Others are trying, and they’re not faring so well.
I mean look at all of those bodies. Outsider is looking more and more to be fighting back then I previously thought he would.
Now to the safe with the Outsider sword. Its sort of hard to see, but it looks like we’ll need 2 keys to get into it. Probably two targets in one mission that we’ll need to get the keys from or something like that?
And there it is. Alongside the cult’s symbol. Now the book lead us to believe that this sword was destroyed, but obviously not. Is the explanation just that its such a powerful artifact that it can’t? And if thats true, how did this cult get a hold of it? And why?
Touching it appears to yank Billie into the void. Time for a Void chat as Billie starts to get closer to her goals? Also in the top right hi mister Void whale. I missed you.
I have suspicions that this library is in the void, based off lighting and all the books, but I have no idea how that would work. For one thing, normal people seem to be in here. Is it actually the silver mines? Either way, probably a big location for the cult.
Speaking of hey cult people. They’re observing an Immortal Envisioned which is curious. Goes to my theory that they are the one’s making them. Also, if you look at the woman on the far right, her face has some dark splotches of rock on her face. What have these people been doing to themselves?
Now, I’m pretty sure this is the Outsider sword that killed him. It looks a lot like how it appeared in the first trailer. At the same time, maybe its just a sword he’s using now. Why would he have it? Either way, this shot looks a lot like he’s waiting for someone to come and attack him.
Hey Jessamine. You here to guilt trip Daud and Billie one last time? Harvey Smith has been saying a lot how this expansion will finish off the Jessamine assassination storyline of the Dishonored world, so I guess its not too surprising for her to show up, even if she is just a statue.
We’re all jumping for joy! Also for silver mines, there seem to be a lot of just aristocrats. I suppose the cult has taken over and we won’t see any real workers, but still surprising.
Yoink! This cool little bomb thing appears to pull people to places. Also I noticed another guy just hanging from the wall, so it makes me think that once they’re pulled they are stuck there. I wonder if this can be used nonlethally where they are just sort of stuck in place.
This weird pull magic. It is undoubtedly something that comes from the sword (her other abilities she use with her left hand instead), so it must be something big. Does it just literally pull people out of place? Upgraded Pull from Daud?
Hello creepy cultist. Your eyes are all glowy. Maybe he’s one of the Eyeless, but he also has a patchy stone face. Something is seriously going on with these guys, maybe they’re trying to make themselves into the Immortal Envisioned.
Oh hey friend. These guys seem to be a lot like Clockwork soldiers in you’ll need to plan out how to actually properly take them down. I wonder if they count in kills or not.
Also my main suspicion is, that there’s only one (or a few) actual Immortal Envisioned. Because right now, we watch as this guy summons a new guy, who looks very different from him.
Hey friend. This is going to lead to some interesting stuff if these guys can summon new creatures. First of all, holy shit how many can they summon? If we take one down can they summon another? But this explains the different models at least.
Back in town, you can see a bit of Billie’s Displace ability. I noticed how her body seems to be in the purple flame she creates, but besides that there’s nothing else new really on how it all works.
Less interested in gore dude, more interested in the posters on the wall! They’re new for the DLC and I imagine both people are targets or NPCs we’ll be seeing. The left one says “Trust Micha(cuts off) with your Treasure)”, while the right is Shan Yun. We’ve seen previously that there’s a bank we’ll be breaking into, so thats what the left one is advertising.
Finally stabbing into these creatures, and they just seem to be made of light holding together stone. Pretty neat!
And thats it of this trailer! We return to Billie on her boat again, and thats where it wraps up. A lot of interesting new detail on returning enemies, new enemies, possible hints at different targets, and I love all of it. Hope you guys enjoyed.
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Sixty First Encounter-- Eye to Eye
After roughly an hour has passed, Daps returns to the main foyer and calls for everyone to assemble in the library. A few minutes after everyone has found a place, Barbell and Collin enter the room. Collin's prosthetic has been repaired, although in place of the purple shard that was contained inside the glass chamber, two new shards of white and dark gray colors respectively have been inserted. Collin steps over to Tori's side as Barbell takes his position in front of the group. Barbell: I apologize for taking so long, but the repairs were thrown off by a rather... unexpected turn of events. It seems that whatever that ritual did caused a reordering of the very foundation of Thaumaturgy. My Vis shards were completely gone, and in their place I found those two shards that you see in Collin's leg. I didn't have a lot of time to spare with my studies, but from what I can tell, those kinds of shards seem to contain the very essences of order and entropy. It should prove a fascinating study once I have some spare time again... Zomrabitt: You sure that's a good idea? This changed the magic you used at its core, right? I mean, if you don't know what it does...why use it in a prosthetic of all things? Barbell: Collin's leg fundamentally alters how the shards manifest their power. Think of it as, well, a leg-shaped wand really. I'm sure you've seen him use the power in those shards at least once since I gave it to him. His will manifests the power, not the leg itself. I'm sure he'll figure out how to use its power. In a time like this, experimentation is the only way forward. Nydins: I mean, I guess that makes sense, but what's saying it won't literally explode again? It just seems a little dangerous... Zomrabitt: Speaking of dangerous; how and why did you decide to suddenly walk into a room full of cultists? Nydins: Oh! I used the grief door! See, I was looking around the IT after you guys left just to make sure no weird doors showed up again, like I always do, but then I saw you left your goggles behind! If something had happened, you wouldn't have been able to tell any of us without sending anyone back to the IT, and by then, it might've been too late! Always plan ahead, right?
we haven’t used the grief door since like, s1, so I decided to remind you it existed I guess
Tori glances away, looking embarrassed. "Oh, yeah. I guess that would be kind of stupid...thank you..." Nydins: Mmhmm! Just don't forget them again next time, alright? Handing the goggles over, Nydins makes the grief door and takes her leave, calling out "Sorry for interrupting!" behind herself.
she came back later in the log inexplicably
I’m assuming she’s just too worried to not be there but tbt I kept forgetting where she was because we broke this up so much over such a “long” span of time
Barbell adjusts one of the lenses on his goggles briefly by twisting a metal ring around the lens. "Well, to put anyone worried at ease, the only reason the leg exploded like that is because it was trying to contain the energy of the Vis shard splitting into two entirely new forms of energy. I highly doubt such an event is going to happen at any time in the future. Now, our next order of business should be to track down this cult and find out what their next move is. To that end, an old friend of mine should be able to help us out. She's well versed in the arts of Witchery, more than anyone else I know as a matter of fact." Firefly: Sounds good! Where's she at? Barbell: She's a bit of a ways to the west of here, but luckily we have a faster means of travelling than the Aurum Express. I believe most of you have seen the gateway that I use to travel to town, yes? Zomrabitt: Pretty much, yeah. Barbell: Well, luckily she happens to have a gateway as well, which I can link up to anytime. It pays to have someone schooled in Ars Magica in your little circle of friends. He chuckles briefly, and then a strange wistful sort of expression seems to cross his face. After a moment, he seems to snap out of whatever crossed his mind and clears his throat. "Anyway, we can head there soon, if everyone is ready. I just need to let her know that I'm coming." As he waits for confirmation, he reaches into his robe and pulls out a small red bag and sets it on a table. He pulls out a small square piece of paper from the bag, and then begins extracting several different colors of powder and sprinkles them into the center of the paper. Rio: Um, so all your...golems? I think? They're all okay now, right? Whatever happened back there didn't hurt them too bad? Not looking up from his activity, he answers. "Yes, although those cultists will have hell to pay for scaring me like that. It appears that my iron golems reacted differently than the other golems to the change, which could be to a wide variety of factors; my iron golems are hardly standard. It seems like the energies released converted their bodies into solid Thaumium. I'm not entirely sure what that means for them yet, but they seem to be acting normal otherwise. I have noticed that my standard golems are starting to lose their power, which means I might have to refine my golemancy techniques in this new magical climate, and don't get me started on how much time that's going to take. But I can't worry about that right now. My golems are alright and no one was hurt, so the rest is just clean-up work. Rio: That's good! Not the fighting part or the more work part, but that everyone seems to be okay. We didn't even really get the chance to stop those bad guys, so if they'd actually done something really bad, that would've been, well...really bad. Barbell: Well, let's not think that the worst is over just yet. Who knows what else those fanatics are planning. Still, I must admit that I am a little excited to start my research after all of this is said and done. It'll be almost like my first days of golemancy all over again. He finishes his work and ends up with a round paper ball filled with powder, which he drops back into the original bag and shakes it around for a few seconds. After that, he reaches back into the bag and pulls out what appears to be a firework shell. "And now for the fun part. I know why Jezebel insists I communicate this way, but good grief is it a lot of work sometimes. Letters are so much easier than explosives..." Zomrabitt: ...You talk to her with fireworks? Barbell: She loves fireworks. The different colors and effects that I mix in tell her different things. I mean yes, it's definitely a tricky code to crack since it's really just between our friends, but don't let that fool you, it's just an excuse to see a pretty light show for her. Karumet: Whatever works, I guess... Barbell: Oh it works, and every time I fire one off I can almost feel that damn grin on her face. He tries rather unsuccessfully to suppress a smile as he says that, and places a small mortar tube from the bag onto the table. In a movement almost too quick to catch, he drops the shell into the tube and lights the fuse with a snap of his fingers, and then claps his hands over his ears as he grins wildly and shouts, "Earmuffs!"
guess you have a thing for explosives, huh?
sure you’re not a Junkrat main?
Those with ears protect them. With a loud THUMP, the shell detonates its launching charge and the tube kicks off of the table, but the shell never seems to leave the opening of the tube. Barbell drops his hands and casually collects the tube before replacing it into the bag, and then the bag into his robe. Still giggling, he asks, "Sorry, I couldn't help but to see the looks on your faces when I did that. Everyone alright?" Letting his hands down, Tori shrugs. "I mean, nothing really happened, so yeah." Barbell: Oh something happened alright, just not in this room- Ah, nevermind. Sheesh, you're a tough crowd, kid. Now then, if we're ready, let's head to the gateway. Relana: Hang on, I wanna go with you guys! Barbell: What, why- Well, I suppose I know why, but... Ehh, alright, I don't see the harm in it. We're not exactly going into uncharted territory this time, after all. Just stick close to me, alright Relana? Jezebel doesn't like new people wandering around her home. Actually on that note, that goes for all of you. The last kind of person you want to annoy is a witch, trust me. Firefly: Oh no, I completely understand.
idk, liches are pretty bad too
Barbell: Very good. I don't need my guests being turned into toads or... whatever new trick she's come up with since I've last been by. So, off we go! He leads the group out the library and back to the gate room. He whistles a different set of notes and the gateway sparks to life, quickly forming a large glowing orb of energy. He steps into the light and vanishes, followed quickly by Relana who excitedly jumps through after him. The group goes in after them, trying not to crowd the gate in the process. The group emerges from the other side of the portal to find themselves in an enormous garden. Different crops and and small farms stretch out from the gateway platform, and a raised walkway attached to the platform stretches over and across the farm toward a simple house constructed from a dark wood and a stone chimney that is letting forth a steady stream of smoke. Tall trees have grown on either side of the house, but behind the house it is noticeably clear of foliage. A little ways down the walkway, Barbell waves to the group while Relana leans against the guardrail looking over the farms. Zomrabitt: Well. Haven't seen this many well-kept plants in a while. Firefly: Tell me about it... Collin: I... guess she sells food to make her business? I can't imagine what else one person could do with this many plants. Relana leads the pack to the door, but Barbell quickly reigns her in before she knocks on it and instead uses the door knocker, which is shaped like a snarling wolf, to bang on the door four times in rapid succession. After a few moments, the door clicks and swings open. A Chinese woman, roughly the same age as Barbell, looks first at Barbell, then at the young companion at his side, and then out to the rest of the group, never changing her expression all the while. She is dressed in a simple black cloak, which is tied closed by a single yellow cord, and a surprisingly typical witch's hat whose point stretches up above the opening of the door. After a few moments, she looks back to Barbell and speaks. Jezebel: Well, I see you weren't exaggerating when you said you had a number of guests coming with you, Barbell. I'm afraid my house might not be big enough for a number like this. Barbell: Yes, well, let's just say I made a fair number of contacts very quickly over the last few months. I apologize for the inconvenience. Perhaps we could meet and greet out back? Jezebel: Yes, that would be for the best. I don't need the large metal one bumping his head against all of my decor. Please, come in, but be careful. I have everything arranged for a reason. She leads the group from the front door over to the back door. As they make their way through, they can see all sorts of strange items and plants hung on the walls and from the ceiling, and strange objects seemingly scattered at random around the house. The ticking of a clock can be heard in the main room, but no clock is in sight. After they exit into the backyard, they find themselves on a large patio overlooking a clearing in the forest behind the house. A huge circle of runic symbols has been written in chalk on the grass down below, with several smaller circles going inwards toward a single gold rune in the very center. More plantlife can be found growing in and around the circle, and what appears to be an altar of some sort can be seen on the far side of the circle, although it is too far to see it well from the patio. The patio itself has several tables arranged with appropriate seating, and Jezebel gestures for the group to take a seat. For once, Firefly seems to be trying to contain genuine excitement as she takes her seat. "This is such a nice change of pace; I really wish we'd come here at a better time..." Jezebel: Oh? Are you familiar in the arts, young one? Firefly: I mostly practice Botania by myself. Jezebel: Ahh, you'd have to ring up a different set of friends of ours if you were interested in Botania. Or Bug, I suppose. He does still practice it, right Barbs? Barbell: Yes, although he's been more interested in his bees, recently. You never know what the little guy's gonna start working on next.
earning his name in multiple ways, I guess
Karumet: I'm afraid you're going to have to continue this conversation some other day. There's a bit of a more pressing matter at hand... Jezebel: Now now, don't be in such a rush. I haven't even properly introduced myself yet. My name is Jezebel. Barbs and I go quite a ways back. My apprentice, Iris, will probably return from her work in a few minutes. It is a pleasure to meet you all. She bows slightly to the group. Zomrabitt: I mean, we are dealing with a group of cultists...we didn't even get to put a dent in those creeps before they blue-skadooed out of the room, so they're still actively doing...whatever they were hoping to accomplish...don't get me wrong, it's very nice to meet you, but those creeps are still out there, and we have no idea how quickly they're progressing. Barbell quickly rises from his seat and holds a hand out toward Tori. "Jezebel, I should apologize for our group here. You see, we just recently came in contact with a strange cult, and the encounter... didn't go so well in our favor. Everyone's a little on edge and-" Jezebel: This has to do with the Wind then, doesn't it? Barbell: ... The what? Jezebel: I could feel something in the air. I guess it was an hour ago, roughly. A great rush of air came up and over this area, and I could almost smell the magics inside the current. So it was a cult of some form, then?
MMMMMM
Barbell: Well, yes. I was hoping that you could perform a divination for us. Help us find these people and maybe what their next move is. Jezebel: Hmph, and let me guess, you don't have a taglock, do you? Barbell: Well, no. The cultists vanished before we even had a chance to- Jezebel: Do you have any sort of identifying trait? An outfit, a symbol, even just a name? Zomrabitt: There was something, actually. A lot of eyes everywhere...gold and green, I think? Firefly: And a black star. Four points. Jezebel: Well, that's certainly new to me. I suppose I might be able to find something out of that. You really know how to make work hard for an old woman, don't you Barbsie? Barbell: Oh come on, don't start with 'Barbsie' again... Jezebel chuckles in a jokingly evil manner. "Oh? Would you prefer I go with Pinstripe Pa-" Barbell cuts her off by closing the gap between them in a blink and pointing at her chin with one finger, glaring daggers from behind his goggles. "Don't. You. Dare."
is his stripper name Pinstripe Panther ‘cause if not it is now
Jezebel laughs in a surprisingly light and airy tone before clearing her throat and snapping back to her neutral expression, just barely holding back the remnants of a grin. Without another word, she descends the steps from the back patio down to the rest of the property, beckoning the others to follow. Karumet jokingly mumbles something to Tori that gets them lightly elbowed in the ribs before the pair follows. Tori audibly whispers "Don't be rude." Relana quickly skirts around the group and catches up to Barbell's side, grabbing onto the edge of his robe. "What was she gonna say? C'mon, you can't just keep secrets from me! Pinstripe what? Pinstripe what?" Barbell: Child you are a great apprentice but pursue this line of knowledge and I will absolutely make the golems dogpile on top your smart little head. Relana: What?! But Bug's heavy enough on his own, you'll crush me! Barbell: Indeed, and we'll make a nice plaque for you. 'Here lies Relana, lost in the pursuit of forbidden knowledge.' We'll put flowers on it, it'll be super pretty, trust me. Relana starts play-punching Barbell's hip as the group makes their way past the large circle of runes drawn in the grass. The group enters a small path paved in fallen leaves that leads into the nearby woods. The thick foliage above blocks off much of the sunlight, leaving the area lit by thin streaks of sunlight that sneak through the branches. Jezebel speaks to the group without turning back to face them. "So, where are you folk really from? What is your purpose here?" Zomrabitt: That's...kind of a harder question to answer. We're kind of from everywhere? Here and not... Firefly: I come from the Twilight Forest, so I've at least got more involvement in all this than the rest of us would I guess... Jezebel: Oh? She peeks over her shoulder at Firefly, genuine curiosity sneaking into her tone. "And what brings a denizen of such a secluded and peaceful place here? I doubt the scenery here compares to back home." Firefly: I'd have to agree there. I normally would've never left the forest, but, well...originally I kind of needed to look after them; we met when they messed with the forest and got cursed by it on accident; but, well...they kind of killed the lich I worked for? So without him around I just decided to go with them; and for the most part it's worked out? I help them; they help me; we help strangers...it's been pretty interesting, but stressful at times. Still, guess that kinda comes with the job. Jezebel responds, sounding both surprised and sincere. "Hmm. Very interesting. Thank you for sharing. That tells me a lot about this little crew, believe it or not. I like you, Twinklecheeks." Firefly: Tw--!! Oh come on...
[Chris voice] twinks!!
Barbell: She works fast. No one is safe. Fawkes quietly echoes behind the group: "Twinklecheeks..." A strange sound suddenly echoes through the forest. A faint wail bounces off the trees, making tracking the noise somewhat difficult. Nydins: Um...what was that? Barbell: Jezebel, is that...? Jezebel: It appears so. Barbell: Ohh dear. Well, if you would all repeat after me, earmuffs! Barbell claps his hands over his ears, and Relana follows suit after a moment of confusion. The group covers their ears as well, exchanging expressions of varying degrees of confusion between each other as they do so. Fawkes clangs his hands against his head for what it's worth, and the metallic bang echoes back through the forest. The wailing seems to intensify and grow louder, and even through their hands the sound starts to make the group seem nauseous and dizzy. Further down the trail, what appears to be a strange, misshapen turnip with small, gangly limbs darts around the corner and charges headlong for the group. Its face stretches out in almost comically exaggerated displeasure and the wailing continues to worsen. Shortly after that, a young Chinese girl, roughly the same age as Relana, comes stumbling after the creature while desperately trying to keep an oversized pair of earmuffs on top of her head. ?: Jezebel, help me! I can't keep up with it! Jezebel, looking almost entirely bored of the situation, pulls a small twig from her pocket and blasts the small creature with a flash of light from the stick. The turnip tumbles into the ground, its cries cut off amidst the sound of crushed leaves. Firefly: Was that a mandrake?! Karumet: I'm pretty sure that's actually a child; don't be so rude.
Collin: That is the angriest vegetable I think I've ever seen. Jezebel reaches down and plucks the creature off the ground, holding it by the stalk growing out of its head. "To answer your question, Lantern Head, yes it is. Would you like to hold it?" She holds out the mandrake to her, which gurgles in a strangely unpleasant way despite being stunned. Sighing, Firefly puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not a lantern, but...thanks for the offer? I think I'll pass though..." Jezebel: Suit yourself. She cradles the mandrake in one arm and turns back to the girl. "And you, young one. Just what is going on here? You're lucky our guests didn't lose their lunch with a mandrake running loose." The girl pulls the earmuffs off of her head and drapes them over her neck before speaking. "I-I'm sorry, Madam Jezebel. I was picking some Belladona in the greenhouse and my foot accidentally pushed it up out of the ground. I tried to catch it but it ran out the door and I kept running after it and then it got out onto the trail and-" Jezebel: Alright alright, enough. You need to be more careful around these things. Someone might've gotten hurt because of this. At least you remembered to put on the earmuffs before going inside the greenhouse, it seems- Ah, you need to introduce yourself. ?: R-Right. The girl turns to face the group and bows slightly. "I'm Iris, Madam Jezebel's apprentice. It's a pleasure to meet all of you." Letting their arms down, Tori waves to Iris. "Nice to meet you too." Jezebel: Very good. Now, take this back to the house and put it somewhere dark until I can deal with it later. She carefully hands over the mandrake to Iris. "Oh, and why don't you take Relana with you? She's Barbell's apprentice, so I'm sure the two of you have plenty to talk about. Wouldn't you agree, Barbed Wire?" Barbell: Indeed I would! What do you say, kid? I think it'll be more fun than what we're gonna be up to for now. Relana: Do I get to hold the mandrake? Barbell looks at Jezebel, clearly caught off guard. Jezebel: Only if you promise to be very careful with it. If it wakes up, well... you've seen what it can do. Relana: I promise! C'mon Iris, let's go! I wanna see if it feels as weird as it looks. Iris, clearly caught off guard by Relana's eagerness: Uh, s-sure? Just be g-gentle with it... The pair heads back the way the group came, carefully trading off the mandrake as their voices trail off around the path. Fawkes: Relana is a very hands-on kind of learner, isn't she? Collin: I can't believe she wanted to touch that thing... Karumet: To each their own, I guess? Barbell: The kid's a wild one, but that enthusiasm is going to carry her far when she's older. By the way, good thinking, Jezebel. This cult stuff is hardly suited for kids her age. Jezebel: My pleasure. I figured they could use the interaction anyways. Iris needs to have friends her age, and not just this old witch. Jezebel: Ah, but I almost forgot. My apologies for the delay. Let's head for the scrying house, shall we? The group makes their way down the rest of the path until they reach a fork. To the right is what appears to be a greenhouse not much further down, and to the left is a somewhat small and plain stone house, with only a weathered wooden door to break the stone pattern of the outer walls. Jezebel: I'm... fairly certain the house will be big enough? I've never had a group this big before... Nydins: If it's not then some of us can just wait outside! I'm pretty used to hearing the details later by now anyway. Jezebel: Well, let's see what happens. I'm mostly concerned about Snowflake back there. He's not exactly the smallest of the group.
that’s more of a name for like, a bunny or something, but whatever you say jez
Fawkes doesn't respond for a few moments before he suddenly straightens up and points to himself confusedly. "Wait, is that referring to... me?" Jezebel: Now then, let's see if we can make this work. Without any further delay, she opens up the door and steps inside the house. The group attempts to follow; Nydins staying at the back in case people wind up having to back out anyway. Luckily everyone is able to make it inside, although Fawkes insists on letting Nydins through first before carefully squeezing himself through the doorway. Inside the house is a single room with a large table at its center. An ornate cloth depicting strange creatures and unusual symbolic imagery covers the table's entire surface, and a large crystal ball sits in a plain metal stand at the middle of the table. Jezebel is already seated in a high-backed chair facing the door, and she gestures to the four open chairs placed around the table. "I'm afraid I don't have nearly enough for everyone, but at least there's enough room inside for everyone to attend. You'll have to sort out who gets to sit amongst yourselves, however." Barbell promptly takes the chair to the left of Jezebel, grinning mischieviously. "Well, age before beauty. My leg's killing me from all the walking today." Mulling it over, the group ends up with Firefly and Nydins being seated while Tori offers the last chair to Collin. Collin: Oh, uh... sure, thanks. Collin takes his seat at the table as Jezebel takes in a deep breath. Jezebel: Alright, so our leads are a golden eye with an emerald pupil and... Curse my age, what was the other symbol? Firefly: A four-pointed black star! Jezebel: Ahh, right, thank you child. Now then, let us begin. For a moment, the entire room goes pitch black. Four small green flames flash into existence around the crystal ball in a diamond shape, filling the room with an eerie glow. Jezebel holds her hands up to the ball, keeping them a few inches away from the ball's surface. Jezebel: We'll begin with the eye and see what can be seen. Unfortunately this won't be very precise, but it might tell us something about where this group is and what they desire, in a general sense. She closes her eyes and begins humming a slow, rhythmic tune, and a gold light seems to fill the inside of the ball. As she continues to hum for a couple of minutes, the color shifts to a light purple, then to a bright green, and then finally to a dull gray. She ceases her humming and the light fades from the ball as she finally opens her eyes. Jezebel: Well, that was about as vague as I was expecting. It really is so much easier with a taglock... Zomrabitt: No dice? Jezebel: Well, it's something, but it's nowhere near as exact as I'm used to with this sort of thing. I could see obsidian obelisks hovering in the air, eye-shaped pendants worn over crimson robes, and all the while I could hear a strange chanting of sorts. I did get one interesting vision, however. Barbell: And what would that be? Jezebel: It started with purple grass. Dark almost to the point of black. It stretched out as far as I could see. My vision turned and I saw stone bricks, stacked up high reaching far above me. Tendrils of purple seemed to grow up the stone like sick vines, reaching up to the very top. And the energy I felt, it... it was disorienting. I had to give up my focus just to rid myself of the dizzying feeling. Barbell: Was it a real place? Do you know where it was? Jezebel: ... East. Collin: ... East? Jezebel: East. I can do no better without a more concrete scrying material. Given that Barbell lives roughly east of me, it stands to reason that this place must be further beyond than that. I have felt no strange forces at work nearby, so I doubt it is between the two of us. Zomrabitt: Well, it's...something to work with, at least. Jezebel: Indeed. Maybe this star can provide us with something more. She begins her scrying anew, and the ball immediately glows with a dark purple light. Her brow seems to furrow slightly as the color shifts to a crimson red. Suddenly, the ball seems to go out completely, along with the flames. After a moment of complete silence, the image of a golden eye with an emerald pupil seems to snap open from within the crystal ball before vanishing just as quickly as a loud crack of snapping wood bounces off the stone walls. Quick scuffling sounds are heard immediately after, and Barbell's voice calls out in the dark. Barbell: Somebody open the door, get some light in here! Fawkes quickly shoves the door open and sunlight floods in through the doorway. Barbell is kneeling down beside Jezebel's chair, which apparently had one of its legs break during the seance, holding Jezebel in his arms. Jezebel seems fairly confused, but unharmed, and quickly gets back up onto her feet with Barbell's help. Jezebel: That... was unusual. Nydins: Wh-what just happened??
see Nydins is back again WHY...
Jezebel: A rebound. Whoever is tied to that symbol clearly isn't a stranger to scrying. Luckily I didn't live this long by chance, so it looks like my poor chair took the hit for me. Is everyone else alright? Firefly: Seems like it, fortunately... Barbell: Were you able to see anything, or was it a bust? Jezebel: I couldn't follow what I saw very well, but I can tell you that I didn't like what little I could see. Barbell: What does that mean? Jezebel: It was similar to the first vision about the purple grass, but... it was everywhere. Forests, rivers, our homes... all of it covered in that color. The wind was filled with grains of sand on a cold, harsh wind. The sky was dark but no stars shone down on the land. Karumet: So dead? Or worse? Jezebel: I'm not entirely sure myself. There was... one other thing. But you're not going to like it. Nydins: Were we supposed to like the first stuff? Jezebel: A fair point. The other thing I saw was him. She points across the table over to Collin. Collin: Wait, me? Zomrabitt: Wh...what?? Jezebel: It was about that time that the rebound happened, so it was only a brief glimpse. Even still, the symbol on the chest is hardly confusable. I could only guess as to what it means. My theory is that you were simply on the mind of the person tied to this symbol, but for what purpose I could not say. Collin: So, what, are you saying that weird cult lady has a crush on me? Jezebel: It's not entirely unplausible, but I doubt it's something as simple as physical attraction. I don't know what this figure is up to, but it does not bode well for anyone, I feel. Karumet: Well, it's obvious she wants to blow a little more than his socks off, so I'd say you're right about that. Whatever intentions this cultist has; I'd say you'd better keep him about 5 dimensions away from them. Maybe he and XL should lay low somewhere else while we deal with this mess? I mean, if he dies, that's one thing, but we literally don't even have the foggiest idea what this magical mumbo wants with our little Zebra Cake here. Jezebel: Ooh, Zebra Cake, that's a good one... Collin: Okay first off, Zebra Cake? And secondly, don't I get a say in this?
okay but is she wrong?
Zomrabitt: Seriously! We're not just gonna offload him to XL like she's some interdimensional babysitter! I mean yeah, this is terrifying, but it's not the first time someone's had it out for him... Karumet: Okay, yeah, but listen: I have a valid point in that we don't know what we're dealing with here at all. All those times before, you at least knew who was trying to hurt him and had a vague idea of what they wanted, right? But you don't now! Maybe they want to use his body for something; maybe they just want more...something; demons; bodysnatching; ritualistic sacrifice; brainwashing; look, you and I both know you don't want him to do this, let's just load him back on the school bus and-- Firefly: Okay, I've had it with your sassy mouth! You and me; outside; right now; let's go!
Sixty First Encounter-- Everyone Punches Karumet
Nydins: Don't fight each other!! Why does everyone want to fight?! Save it for the cultists; we have way bigger problems!! Karumet: I'm telling you, he's a way bigger problem than they are if he sticks around for this!! You have no idea what you're getting yourselves into, and if I'm right, it could be irreversible damage you're going to have to live with forever! Tori, you can't seriously want him to go through all that, right? Show these kids someone around here has some damn reason.
OKAY BUT WAS SHE WRONG
Zomrabitt: Listen, it's not about what I want. I can't just pack him away like I'm protecting a kid; he's not a kid; he can make his own damn choices and he can fight his own battles. He has a say in what happens to himself and you're not going to make me choose for him by trying to scare me. You're gonna hear him out on this. Collin: I mean, I get where you're coming from, Karumet. I'm not an alien, or a superhero, or a magical wish being from space. But the thing is, you don't know me all that well. I spent years inside a neverending chain of white walls, fluorescent lights, and death traps at every turn, and all the while I had a nice little voice to remind me that I was going to be there forever and nothing I did was going to amount to anything. And you know what? Here I am. I might be short a leg but I'm not broken. I made a promise to myself while hiding in an alley among a sea of strangers that I was never going to let anyone break me again, and I'll be damned if I'm going to break that promise now. I got that far all by myself, but now, with backup, with friends? I don't have a damn excuse in the world to lose now. Karumet: You're right; I don't know you from Adam's cat; but I'm just worried that this won't end as well as you're hoping. I'm not saying you don't stand a chance, but why walk into a fight knowing for sure it's going to end in someone focused on you and you alone? Are you really willing to die for this? Collin: Are you kidding? If that vision is true, this entire world is at stake. Hell, I lost a leg for a smaller battle than that. I don't plan on dying any time soon, but I'll be damned if I'm going to take the easy way out when an entire world is in danger. Inhaling deeply, Karumet lets out a long sigh, turns to Tori, and says something in kleivenn, giving a shrug and laughing slightly. Giving her a confused look, Tori starts to answer back but catches himself halfway and switches back to English, so you only manage to catch "...Supposed to mean?" Not giving any answers, Karumet leaves the crowded room. Barbell: ... Well that was new. Collin: What was that about? Tori's face turns a little red when they answer. "It was, um...they were just saying that you were, uh...she's um....confused...don't worry about it..."
it was something along the lines of “so that’s how he makes things worth fighting for?”
Collin: Oookay? I'll take your word for it. Jezebel: Alright everyone, let's get out of this room. I need some fresh air after all of this business. The group shuffles out of the building one by one, with Barbell and Jezebel being the last out the door. Jezebel is visibly trying to keep her weight off her right leg, and after a few more moments of struggling with it, she huffs quietly. "Good grief, I must've hit my leg harder than I thought when I fell. Just a moment." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small twig, barely a few inches long, and begins to spin it in her fingers. As she does, the stick seems to stretch down to the ground like putty and then expand outwards with a crackling sound as it turns into a proper walking stick, which she prompty leans her weight into. "Ah, much better." Barbell: Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were showing off a little bit now- Barbell quickly sidesteps a slap from Jezebel, giggling mischieviously. Jezebel: You're one to talk, you old coot. Come along then, before I have to knock some sense into a snarky thaumaturge. She starts back along the forest path, hardly slowed despite the new handicap. Rio: Magic sure is interesting! I never got to see it much where I came from. It's incredible how much of an impact it can have in such a short amount of time! Jezebel: Is that so? And where exactly are you from? Rio: Oh, um...we were last stationed in the X sector; so I guess I came from there! Jezebel looks over at Rio with a quizzical look, clearly trying to figure out if Rio is being sarcastic or if she just genuinely just missed the question. Zomrabitt: I think she wants to know where you lived, Rio. Rio: Oh! Well, I...don't know that. It's probably for the best; there's nothing left there for me, and I'm better off with you guys anyway. Collin: You really don't remember anything like where you lived? Rio: Nope! I don't even know what my name was. It's all totally gone! I'm not really bothered by it, though. Since I was severed, this is how I really am, so this is the better me, even if there's...a lot more going on than that now. Collin: What does that mean? Rio: What does what mean, being severed? Collin: No no, that last bit about a lot more going on. Rio: W-well that's uh...that's kind of a private answer; I'd rather not talk about that in front of people I don't know! I can answer you later, though! It's not that big of a secret I guess, but I still shouldn't talk about it in front of other people. Collin: Ah, sorry, didn't mean to pry...
you can’t get answers if you’re dead
ftr Rio explains she was severed in 47 but never really explains what it does; so it's more like implied ic rn
Jezebel looks over to Barbell. "I see your knack for finding strange friends is still going strong." Barbell: Ha! Well, I'm friends with you, aren't I? Jezebel: And don't you forget it, Barbs. As the group returns to the clearing behind Jezebel's house, they can spot Relana and Iris off by the ritual circle. Iris is seated on what seems to be a broomstick floating in the air looking rather proud, while Relana is madly circling the broom and waving her arms around it. Barbell: Ooh, do my eyes deceive me, or is Iris showing off a little bit? His tone barely hides the humor behind his fake surprise. Jezebel: Oh I think she is, the little toot. You better be careful, or I might have two apprentices running around my house soon. Barbell: I'll arm wrestle you for her if it comes down to that, you sneaky dog! Jezebel: You'll lose again. Barbell sighs sadly. "Never make a bet with a witch, kids. It never works out well..." Jezebel: Well at any rate, I'd ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, but I don't know if I could get things ready quickly enough for so many people. Barbell: Oh, there's no need to worry about that. We should get back home ourselves. The golems will worry if I'm gone too long without letting them know ahead of time. The last thing I need is Bug panicking because I'm "never ever coming back ever" again. Jezebel: Ah, well alright. Iris, come along! Our friends are leaving now! Despite the twin responses of "Aw, come on," the group makes their way back to the front of Jezebel's home. As the last of the group leaves the door, Jezebel bows slightly to the group. "Thank you all for coming. I hope you will come back sometime when you aren't in as much of a rush." Karumet: Hopefully we're fortunate enough to meet at a better time someday; under other circumstances this would've been significantly more enjoyable. Iris pokes her head out from the side of the doorframe and waves to Relana. "Bye Relana! C-come back soon, okay?" Relana returns the wave. "I will, I promise! Bye!" After one final nod, Jezebel scooches Iris back inside and closes the door, leaving the group to themselves back on the walkway to the gateway home. The group makes their way back to the gateway, and Barbell opens up the portal back home. After a few moments, everyone finds themselves back in the gateway room in Barbell's home, and the gateway closes behind them. Barbell: Alright, I think our next step should be to head back to the study. I have some maps we can use to try and locate areas or landmarks that might make an interesting lead. After that, we can- Barbell's planning is cut off as Bug barrels down the stairs, nearly falling onto his face as he clears the final step. "M-master, she's here!" Barbell: What? What are you talking about, who's here? Bug: The spooky lady from earlier! She suddenly appeared in the foyer and she's just been... standing there!
Barbell: ... I need someone to stay here with Relana, and the rest need to come with me. I'll send someone down when the coast is clear. Rio: I can stay then! You guys go on ahead. Barbell: Bug, you stay here too. Rio, Bug, keep her safe, understand? Bug salutes sharply. "Yes sir!" Rio: Of course! Relana: But Barbell, I- Barbell: Relana, please trust me. I need you to stay here. That woman isn't safe, and you shouldn't be near her, okay? We'll be fine, don't worry. Relana: ... Okay. Barbell: Thank you. Everyone else, come on. He turns on his heels and quickly ascends the stairs, the rest of the group following behind. As he makes his way down the hall, his robes begin to glow faintly, and a wand snaps into his right hand, a glowing white orb affixed to its tip. The group reaches the landing that leads down into the foyer, and the robed cultist from before is casually sitting along the side of the fountain, one hand dipped into the water. Where her hand rests, the water turns a faint shade of purple that slowly creeps outward. ?: Ahh, there you are. I was wondering how long you intended to keep a guest waiting. Barbell: You were not invited. Leave, now. ?: I'm detecting a faint chill of hostility in the air. I just wanted to talk trade, that's all. Karumet: Bargaining with a bad guy? That's the best joke I've heard all day! Ha! You're out of your mind. Get lost. ?: Well that's rather harsh. I prefer to think of myself as more of a "revolutionary", if anything. I really think you should hear me out, however. Barbell: What could you possibly have to offer me? ?: Well, I could remove that nasty obelisk that's sitting on your front lawn, for starters. Barbell: What? ?: Here, I'll show you. The figure calmly stands up and strides out the front door, leaving it open for the others to follow. Barbell quickly descends the steps after her, with Collin following closely behind. The remainder of the group follows not too far behind the pair. Outside, the group finds that out near the edge of the clearing, across from Barbell's home and past the IT, an obelisk similar to the one they saw earlier has appeared. The figure is standing next to it, idly spinning the hovering construct with one finger. "It's a quite a nasty blemish on your property, if I may speak openly with you." Barbell: How... ?: Don't worry about that little detail. Now, are you willing to listen to me? Firefly: What in the world is even worth all this? The figure points to Collin. "The one in white. I need him. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Zomrabitt: Nee-...you--...?? Ha...haha...over my dead fucking body!! You're gonna have to pry him out of my cold dead hands!! We're not just gonna hand him over to somebody like you!!
”I’m gonna give Collin a choice!” [/proceeds to defend him]
I can’t always stop him from writing but I held him back a lot in this
?: Oh? So are you his keeper, then? Zomrabitt: Keeper?! He's not kept by anybody! I just know damn good and well that you're no good for anything; why the hell would I let anybody I care about go near someone like you?! ?: Hmm... So I take it that there's no peaceful agreement to be reached here, then? Zomrabitt: Oh yeah, because putting a fucking obelisk on some dude's yard so you can spread all that purple crap all over the place is real peaceful. ?: That "crap", as you so eloquently described it, is the future of the world, and only a fool would try to argue otherwise. The era of change is upon us, and I am its herald. Zomrabitt: Why am I even arguing with a lunatic like you; I should've turned you into a one man shishkabob when we first met!! Throwing one of his arms up into the air, Tori summons forth several of his yellow light spears. "Maybe Cthulu'll appreciate you!!" A green light appears beneath the hood where one of the figure's eyes would be, and she spreads her arms out to either side, palms facing upwards. She begins quietly chanting in a strange, alien language, but otherwise doesn't react to Tori's spears manifesting. As Tori fires off multiple barrages, Firefly seems to plan for something entirely separate, putting up a barrier around everyone but the two of them. "I'm not making this mistake!" Most of the spears seem to shatter in front of the figure as if they collided with a wall, but one spear seems to slip whatever defense she has and pierces her straight through the stomach. The spear digs into the ground behind her, and she seems to go limp and slouch backwards, her head facing up toward the sky. Karumet: Well, that was...underwhelming. ?: I agree. The figure reaches up and grabs hold of the spear and begins pulling herself upward toward the spear's end. As she extracts herself from the spear, its coloration shifts into a deep purple. In a moment she's back onto the ground, and she pulls the spear up out of the ground with one hand before casually twirling it into a two-handed grip. "Mind if I borrow this?"
in retrospect using weapons made of solid magic is a bad idea against...a magic user
Nydins degrades into nervous, panicked laughter. "W-we really have no buisness dealing with this thing, ahaha, we sh-should...we should probably leave it alone, haha..." Karumet: Nah; let's humor it. I wanna see how this thing tries to kill him; it'll be interesting. Firefly: You're a real friend, huh... Karumet: Says the one who left him outside. ?: Oh dear, where are my manners? I just realized I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Dezdemona Maror, Chief Priestess of the Crimson Cult, and Ender of the Green Era. Now kindly get out of my way. The spear seems to distort and lose its shape as she pulls the spear back with one arm and hurls it at Firefly's barrier. It slams into its surface and begins spinning so quickly that a dull hum resonates from it. Purple tendrils creep outward from the point of impact, further weakening the field's integrity as they try to dig through to the other side. Forced backwards from the impact, Firefly throws both her arms out in front of herself as she tries to keep the barrier together, clenching her teeth together as tears well up in her eyes. "TORI, SHE'S GONNA MURDER EVERY LAST ONE OF US OVER THIS!! I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH IT FOR YOU!!" Looking between the spear and Dezdemona, Tori swears loudly as he summons forth his yellow cord and attempts to lasso the spear. "HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THEY WERE GONNA TURN IT INTO A DRILL?!" As the cord wraps around the spear, the shaft seems to split in two. For a moment, everything is silent aside from a high pitched ringing from the spear's vibration, and then an enormous blast of light and force erupts outward as the spear detonates. Firefly's barrier crumbles apart, and Tori and the others are scattered outwards from the blast. When Tori's vision clears, he finds himself staring upward at Dezdemona, her eye gleaming from under the hood. Her right hand morphs into a monstrous claw with purple talons like glass, and she speaks softly, as if to a child.
yo who’s the gore magala here?? hop off my shit Dez
"Don't worry. I'll make this quick." She pulls back her hand to strike, but is cut off as a steady stream of lightning roars from Tori's right and slams into Dezdemona, seemingly locking her body in place. Barbell starts to shout something to Tori, but his words are obscured from the sound of a portal opening, and Collin seems to shoot up from the ground with his gauntlet aimed right at Dezdemona's head. With one sudden spin, she whirls around and knocks Collin clear away from her, before leaping several yards away from Tori in one jump. Struggling upright, Tori attempts to reorient himself before standing up and weighing the situation. He's breathing surprisingly heavily despite not being visibly hurt all that much. Unable to make up his mind, he still makes an effort to get between Collin and Dezdamona. Dezdemona: Well, this could have been so much easier if everyone had just taken the diplomatic approach. Regardless, I've at least achieved my minimum goal for today. I'm sure we'll meet again soon enough, but for now, farewell. With those words, she seems to lose her form and vanishes into the woods as a cloud of purple smoke. Firefly: Tori; whatever the fuck you were thinking, never do that again... Karumet: This is all getting very out of hand very rapidly, but I'm sure he made the right call. You saw what she did to Tori's spear, right? Imagine her touching a person like that...
anyway Karumet’s called this entire story so far and I’m mad
Collin: Guys, I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but... I think I'm going to need a professional's opinion on this one. Nydins: What do you mean? Collin pushes himself up from the ground and nurses his left wrist with his other hand. On the back of his left hand, a purple spiral with three points is now visible. Karumet: ...Well, looks like you did everything you could, but- She doesn't finish what she's saying in English, but regardless of what she said, Tori still decks her in the face.
ftr she told Tori that “]he was] wasting [his] time keeping this human around because he’s obviously a liability but also on his way out and that this entire thing could’ve been avoided if--”
Barbell shouts with a level of anger and seriousness that defies the man's appearance. "ENOUGH!" He pulls Tori away from Karumet with a surprising amount of strength. He spins him around and looks at him square in the eyes, his gaze nearly burning a hole through his head from behind the goggles. "This is not the time for this childish bullshit! You, Collin, with me, now! Everyone else, get back to the house, get Relana and the others out of the gateway room, and we'll discuss our next move once we've figured this out. Do I make myself clear?" There's a muffled "Yes sir" from Karumet as she continues to hold her hands over the lower half of her face. Barbell: Now you two, with me. He turns and breaks out into a full-on run, not waiting for Tori and Collin to respond. He looks at Tori for a second looking more confused than worried, and then runs after him. Shaking his head a bit, Tori follows after the pair as he tries to calm down from Karumet's words. The two follow Barbell into what appears to be a small first aid room of sorts. Bottles of potions sit in a rack above a sink, a small table for someone to sit or lie down on is positioned on the opposite wall, and a cauldron surrounded by cabinets and cupboards lines the back wall. Barbell is standing by the cauldron, which he has somehow already filled with a bright red liquid. Barbell: Collin, put your hand in this right now. Collin: Al-alright? He walks over and after hesitating for a moment, plunges his hand into the cauldron. "Man, this is... a really weird consistency. What is this stuff?" Barbell: It's a Sano/Vitreus compound, not super stable which is why it's thicker than normal liquids. Tori, are you alright?
anyway if this was rhetorically about the cultist shit then whatever but if not then Wow He Is Not and you’re gonna see that shit eventually
Zomrabitt: I'm fine, I just...need to cool it. Even if I didn't go all out, everything I did back there was a mistake. I'd say sorry but that's not gonna fix any of this... Barbell: The only person you need to apologize to is Karumet, although I think she owes you one in turn. However, I will say that losing your head in a situation like that is never the right move. Trust the old man, self control is a virtue. Zomrabitt: Yeah, but that obelisk thing's still on your lawn, and that creep got away too... Barbell: The lawn is nothing. I'm more worried about that woman, and what she's done to Collin. Collin: Speaking of which, could you fill me in on what this is, exactly? Barbell: Well, to put it simply... He lifts himself onto the table and takes a seat. "You're fluxed."
I’m blatantly co-con rn but this is bad
Collin: ... Well that's kind of a harsh diagnosis, don't you think? Barbell: No no, flux. I think I've mentioned before how Flux is a negative byproduct of magical activities and constructs. Normally it takes the form of a purple gas or thick, gooey liquid. However, in rare cases where huge amounts of Flux have built up in a small area, it can affect biological matter directly. Zomrabitt: ...Okay; and then what? Barbell: Well, that's the problem. It's such a rare occurrence that few reported cases have ever appeared throughout recent history. Not only that, but symptoms and side effects differ drastically between subjects. Some reports say that subjects leave liquid flux on things that they touch with affected body parts. Others report increased physical abilities, or even things like ESP. Some get a mix of both, and some have even stranger reactions. Collin: So, I could end up anywhere from magical goop monster to a superhero? Barbell: Make no mistake, this is a very powerful and unpredictable thing that you've just been given. And considering its origin, I'd highly recommend erring on the side of caution Zomrabitt: But he's not going to die, right? It's not gonna do anything to him? Barbell: I've never heard of a case of Flux that was directly lethal. Sometimes side effects lead to other indirect problems, like difficulty eating, hallucinations, or simply forgetting their new physiology and hurting others. But this turn of events concerns me for a different reason...
difficulty eating’s a fucking understatement
Zomrabitt: ...And that would be? Barbell: That woman... She's unlike anything I've ever seen before, and trust me... He taps on his goggles twice. "That says something coming from me. She twists the nature of Flux to her will. Her aura is... wrong. Alien, unearthly, foreign. It's clear that this was her goal, though what effect it will have, I truly couldn't say. I have good eyes, but they don't see the future." Zomrabitt: Yeah, neither can we, surprisingly. You'd think we would've met someone like that by now... Barbell: Tempus is a tricky beast to tame. Collin, go ahead and take your hand out. Let me take a look. Collin does so, trying to shake some of the liquid off of his arm before holding it out to Barbell, who takes his hand and holds it close to his face. The lenses on his goggles start spinning and swapping rapidly, showcasing more options than he's ever used before. After a few moments, he releases Collin's hand. Barbell: Well, the good news is that it isn't incredibly active right now, although once the solution wears off, it'll probably start to change gears, slowly but surely. No case has ever not spread out from the initial point, although the degree of spread also varies between subjects. Collin: So, are you saying my arm could be covered in stuff like this? Barbell: It's not impossible. Collin: Crap, I really wasn't in the market for tattoos... Barbell: I think our best course of action at this point would be to keep a solution on it for as long as possible, and wait to see how far this goes and what develops. I know I don't have any right to ask this, but I really don't think you should leave in your ship until we've found out as much as we can about this. Zomrabitt: Oh the more we can reduce or stop this the better; knowledge is power and all that or whatever... Barbell: I'm glad you agree. So Collin, do you feel anything different already? Collin: Well, it kinda tingles right now, but I'm not sure if that's just the solution you made or if it's this thing. He flexes his hand around and stretches his fingers for a few moments, and then tries snapping his fingers a few times. After the fourth snap, his hand suddenly bursts into a purple flame. "... Well now it's really tingling." Zomrabitt: U-uh....
anyway at this point I was barely co-con and you basically lost me I’m sorry the writing went to shit
Barbell: Can you put it out? Collin: Uhh, I hope? He snaps his fingers again, and the flame almost doubles in size. He panics slightly and shoves his hand back into the solution, waits a few seconds, and then pulls it back out only to find it still ignited. "Okay well I'm not trying snapping again. Now what?" Zomrabitt: I...I don't know; blow it like a candle?? Liquids didn't work, I don't know... Collin tries blowing his hand out, but after several seconds he runs out of breath and begins sputtering weakly at it. Finally he stops and tries beating out the fire with his other hand, and with a loud clap of his hands, the fire vanishes. Collin: ... This is gonna take some serious adjusting, isn't it? Zomrabitt: Looks like it...
the funny thing is I was actually going to say clap initially
anyway I didn’t really get the time to think on this so I don’t really have a whole lot of commentary on this as a whole for parting words
2ri, on the other hand, has had some very interesting and violent reactions to this and I can’t tell if it’s because You’re Hurting His Friends or if it’s because he actually went through this during his time with the others, but either way he’s seriously fucked up over this and he’s real damn mad and I’m Very Sorry
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Happiness Overload Chapter Forty-One
Ever since I decided to do a little helping out in my community, I've been a real busy man (and let's be honest, sometimes woman). Real talk, my phone was on blast all day. Now, I just ignored the first few calls, because that's just common practice when you're someone important. But couldn't do that forever, as much as I wanted to. When I was out on the street, after just finding a $20 bill on the ground, and about to get a bite to eat, my phone once again rang, and that time, I finally answered.
“Oh hey, Kelly Roger! Long time! Well, really it's only been a day, but time is so messed up, I tell you what.”
That sounded like that one guy...M..something. Yeah, fuck that dude.
“Okay, first of all, how the fuck did you get this number and how did you know I would pick up? This isn't even my phone!”
Streets were crowded, I kept bumping into people. Mostly shoving, though. They had to know that I meant business. But damn, did I have to prove it to them that hard? My fucking shoulder, man.
“I have frogs in high places.”
“Look, I don't have time for metaphors! I know what you're up to and I'm here to stop it!”
“Oh, you do, do you? Listen, my good sibling, K-Rog, I have an offer that you can't refuse.”
“My mom already has essential oils from you guys! We don't need a new knife set, and no, we were never friends in high school!”
It may have seemed like I was talking nonsense, but I had to be discrete about what I said. I was outside, in the public eye, and if I just let slip the truth, who knew what eyes were listening or ears were seeing? Yeah, I wanted to bring Lilypad's plans to light and foil them, but it was too risky at the moment.
“How cute, my brother and also sister, you really think you're being clever, but I see right through you. Right now, your underwear is on backwards. Wait...no. That's not what I was getting at. What I meant to say was that I know your current situation. You need a place to sleep. You need food. Most importantly, you need Wi-Fi. I could give you those things, if you just join me. Better yet, if you don't join me, and you decide to proceed further with your findings, I will have no choice but to have you killed. So, what do you say?”
“Yeah, that's gonna a nope from me, Chief.”
“Very well, just know that --”
Oops. I hung up. Totally an accident and not that I was sick of hearing his voice. Nope, totally wasn't that at all.
Just after I was about to put the phone back in my pocket, it started ringing again. I answered, like a complete dumbass would.
“FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT JOINING YOUR WEIRD SEX CULT!”
I pressed a hard “end call” before whoever was on the other line was even able to get a word in. When I looked up, I saw a few people giving me weird looks.
“Oh, that? That was just my grandma, no big deal!”
Those few people nodded and went about their business. I let out a sigh of relief and was about to keep walking when once again, the phone rang.
“WHAT DID I JUST SAY? I'M NOT--”
“Guess again, fucko,” came a snarky little voice.
“Yeah, I have no idea who you could be so I'm not even going to guess.”
“Not even a little guess?”
I tried to put some thought into it. Who else did I know or once knew that was snarky and knew how to access anyone's number...
“Velvet? If that's you, I am so kicking your ass.”
“WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WOULD YOU THINK I'D BE HER? I AM SO MUCH COOLER!”
“Oh, so you know her?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“Yeah, you do. I can already tell.”
“FUCK YOU TOO, THEN! I WAS TRYING TO BE MYSTERIOUS!”
“Okay, well, who even are you?”
“Heh,” she did that cliché snicker you hear all the time in fanfiction. “That's for me to know and you not to find out.”
“Okay then, bye.”
I tried hanging up, but found that I couldn't. I put my ear back up to the phone.
“Guess what? I can control your phone remotely.”
“Uh, so? That's amateur work. What do you even want, anyway? I'm busy.”
“I want you to tell me everything you know about Lilypad. Then, I want you to tell me everything you know about any other sensitive information. You got it?”
“What's in it for me?”
“Nothing!” She cackled. “Nothing at all!”
I threw the phone on the ground and crushed it. Screw that deal.
“So much for not being able to hang up.”
I shrugged and went on about my day.
...Okay, so some folks might have been thinking the whole way through “did I miss something?” And the answer is yes. Yes you did.
You see, earlier in the day, I was at a coffee shop (no, not ScarredButts or whatever that place's name was) and leeching off their Wi-Fi. Now, I knew there might have been some prying you-know-what's, so I used a VPN. Don't worry, it wasn't one of those ones you had to pay for. Screw those guys. Mine was a homemade VPN.
All it took was a few hours of searching. Searching I knew others wouldn't have wanted me doing. But deep in my heart, the right people would have loved to see it. It started with a simple search: 'frogs gay', from there I was led down a whole spiral of loosely connected dots. At first, it was the usual theatrics from right-wing talk show hosts, those conspiracies they espouse for attention. It didn't matter what their actual beliefs were, all they were doing was selling you their own brand of bullshit.
Nah, I couldn't say how I got there, for fear of others retracing my steps, but the end result was that I was in a secret database in Lilypad's servers. Every organization, profit or non-profit had a databases. Files and documents they didn't want seen. Must've been some kind of compulsion hardwired into their brains which told them to keep account of everything, because not once have I found a group that didn't keep track of their shit.
“So this is what they're trying to do...” I whispered, hands over my mouth, hoping that my idiot mouth wasn't speaking the words loud enough for any of those nosy types to hear.
It went a little something like this:
“Three years from now, in an alternate universe, there will be an explosion members of our group will have caused. It will have been in an abandoned building, or one empty, but also one that looks pristine, so that others think it's still occupied. That way, it will cause a commotion. People will watch. It will cause a distraction.
That's the intention. In truth, people will be so doped up on Dr. Etna's doses of euphoria that no one will notice. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be the one that comes after the me in this alternate universe, or if he's supposed to be the me that comes before. I think I'm supposed to come before, because events of this universe ends up affecting the other. Either way, time is a thing I'd rather not get into. It makes my head hurt and then I zone out for hours and next thing you know, the whole fridge is empty.
What matters is that the end result is that I know the explosion will not distract anybody and, in fact, the me in that universe, won't even have remembered calling such an order. It's a little random detail, but what if it wasn't? What if we could make it so much more?
No, I don't want to hurt anybody. Not unless they got in Lilypad's way. But what if it was a helpful, not harmful explosion? What if...and call me crazy, here, because I don't know which dimension I'm in right now, but what if...it was an explosion which caused everyone in the surrounding area to become amphibious humanoids? Not only that, amphibious humanoids who, if they weren't gay already, will become.
Ah, such a thought is truly beautiful. Right now I am thinking of how the red sea is full of iron. That doesn't have to do with the information above. In some respects, I pity my other self, even though in some other respects, we are the same selves who at times know of each other. Which, because we know of each other, we are both pitiable, for we both succeed and fail at our same end goals. For added measure, we spoil the endings for ourselves, and yet we proceed anyway.
By the way, I've placed trackers on this document, so if anyone reads this, I'll know.”
Damn. I couldn't believe it. He wanted to make everyone into gay frogs. That just wasn't right. Someone had to stop him. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against gay frogs, I just think they should be frogs in the privacy of their own homes. The phone started ringing. I ignored it. Whoever that mugger was, he probably had some dealer friends. That wasn't me stereotyping, it was just me making a hypothesis. Big difference.
My stomach rumbled again. It was the hunger. The hunger for justice. So I packed up and went out into the street. I received several other calls while on the prowl for food, and you already know what happened there. I was a dumbass and that dumbassery didn't need to be told a second time.
I blinked. My signal cut out. I couldn't believe it. Whatever Kelly Roger did, I couldn't hack into their phone anymore.
I'm dealing with someone smarter than they appear. More research has to be done.
I took a gulp from a can of my favorite soda, Crush soda. Why was it my favorite? Because I just loved crushing the can when I finished!
...What? What other reason was there?
I went back to looking at my monitor and that was when I noticed what Kelly Roger had done.
“Oh. I'm the stupid one in this situation.”
I slammed my head onto my desk.
FINALLY.
Forever I roamed, in search of diners, drive-ins, and dives, and lo and behold! Danny's Diner, only the best diner in the whole 48 states.
“I'll take a pancake suplex,” I snapped to the waitress.
My stomach would at last be appeased. Their pancake suplex meal was known to be the greatest meals in all the land! Tales were told of brawls being held in the back of Danny's parking lot at 3 AM. While it couldn't be verified, I had no doubt pancakes were involved. That was the magic of a place like Danny's.
Once my food arrived, I dug in. Everything was going smooth, bite after bite. Sure, I've still had a pretty rough day. For every little bit of progress, I was set back. I found out what Lilypad was planning, but in the process, my phone got destroyed. That was not gucci.
Note to self: steal a new phone.
Not only did I not have a phone, but I also still lacked a place to sleep. I didn't want to spend two nights in a cardboard box, even if the rent was cheap.
Note to self: steal a place to sleep.
I nodded as I ate. At the very least, I had food. That was good enough for the time being.
What would Hilda or Dimitri do in this situation? Thinking about Fire Emblem's never failed me before, and I'll be damned if it fails me now.
I looked up from my plate and took a quick glance out of the window. Something in the distance soared in what looked to be my direction.
“Now what could that be?”
What was meant to be a quick glance turned into a stare and the 'something' in question came closer into view. Whatever it was, it shot right at me. I jumped back, and startled in my seat, I stared at the thing that landed on the window. It croaked.
“...The fuck?”
But no, it wasn't a 'fuck', it was a frog.
Before I had time to think about just what in Miku's name was going on, a few more frogs landed on the window.
“Ah, looks like it's rainy season.”
I turned around and the waitress who took my order stood by my table.
“How are you liking your meal?”
“THE FUCK?! YOU THINK THIS IS NORMAL?!”
She shrugged. “I work at Danny's. You get used to seeing weird shit around here.”
As I turned back to the window and watched the frogs slide down, leaving a trail of slime on the glass. I tried to take a deep breath and sigh, but before I was granted such a comfort, a fancy-as-fuck black limo sped outside and some figure I couldn't make out stood on the roof and held a bazooka.
I could only guess what would happen next. I had to act fast.
“Hey, lady, can I use your phone to call a friend?”
“Uh...sure?”
She handed me her phone and I got up out of my seat and ran for it.
“Hey! My phone!” I heard her call. “You can't just take it! I'm on my parent's plan!”
“Don't worry, I'll block your parents!” I called back. I had no time to argue about ethics, not when I was in danger.
Sure enough, I heard glass shatter and screams erupt. In spite of my brilliance, my brain decided to have a moment of dumbassery and make my head turn and look back.
Frogs. That's what got shot from the bazooka. Not missiles. Just croaking, freaking, frogs.
I shoved past the staff of the diner. Cooks, wait staff, management, you name it. I just had to get out of there, so I kept moving until I pushed my way through the back door. Then, I called 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what's your emergency?” The operator began. “Hey, some asshole outside just shot frogs at Danny's!”
There was laughter on the other end. “Did you say...frogs?”
“Yes!” I growled. “Now do your fucking job and send someone over to deal with this!”
“Calm down. Are you hurt?”
“No, but I will be if you don't get someone over here!”
“What is your name?”
“Kelly Roger! Sheesh!”
“Kelly, please hold while I redirect you to the proper department.”
It's Kelly-Fucking-Roger. Not 'Kelly'. Stupid operator.
By now, I was right outside, behind the diner. I hoped the shooter didn't notice where I had gone, but just in case, I made a break for the the nearest place to hide: a hotel. At the hotel parking lot, still on hold, I hid behind a truck. There was a clicking sound and I found myself no longer on hold.
“Hey, how's it going, buddy?”
I froze, dread taking over. Not who I was hoping to hear, but there he was: Mar...Mar...it's on the tip of my tongue...Mario?
“New phone, who this?” I found the nerve to reply.
“Oh, come on, don't do this to me. I thought we were friends.”
“Get real! What are you even doing on a 9-1-1 call?”
“Mm...yes. I did tell you I had frogs in high places, did I not? While half of the police force has been bought out by the ETNA Corporation, the other half answers to me. Turns out money really does buy you happiness.” He laughed up a storm. I was unamused.
“Frogs, huh? So you're behind this attack?”
“You could say that. I wouldn't call it an attack. Just a friendly surprise. However, there will be an attack if you don't do as I say.”
“Like what? You're going to throw frogs at me?”
He laughed again. “You're real funny! Actually, you're going to come to the parking lot off 94th and Sideburn avenue.”
“Why would I do something like that?”
“Because we have your parents.”
That had to be a lie. My parents weren't interesting enough to kidnap. I just HAD to call his bluff.
“No, I have your parents! They're in bed with me right now!”
I hung up the phone.
If anything, the attack on the diner was a good call, as I never did end up paying for my meal. Plus, I got a new phone. Being the kind person that I was, I blocked and deleted all of the waitress's contacts.
I sat in my office, stroking a pet salamander. All was going according to plan. One of my underlings came up to me, a scientist named Gumby.
“Do we really have Kelly Roger's parents?”
I shook my head.
“We don't really need them. Kelly Roger will show up regardless.”
“And then what?”
I slammed my fist on the table.
“You come to me, on the day of Polo's birthday, and ask me 'and then what?'”
“Well, you must have some kind of plan if you wanted Kelly Roger to go there.”
“Indeed,” I grinned a devilish grin. “We can't just keep letting Kelly Roger have all this sensitive information and keep playing hero, now can we?”
Gumby shook his adorable head. What a great brother. Though we weren't in any way related.
“I think it's time Kelly Roger met a good friend of mine,” I cupped my hands over my mouth. “JEREMIAH, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!”
Out from the corner of the office, where the shadow hit, Jeremiah, the human-bullfrog hybrid appeared.
“ALKJLKJDSKJSDLKSJ,” Jeremiah bellowed. “ASLKSJLKDJSK.”
“I can never understand a single word he says, but he sure helps me drink my wine.”
#happiness overload#dark comedy#writing#stories#writers on tumblr#scifi#conspiracies#gay frogs#fire emblem#three dog night#dennys
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1. Have you ever bought 99 cent chicken nuggets at Wendy’s? I don’t think so, because I don’t think I remember them ever being so cheap. I’ve bought Wendy’s chicken nuggets though. 2. How much would you charge to pet-sit a Chihuahua for 5 days? Depends on the dog and who I was babysitting for. 3. Have you ever played Bejeweled? I have. I used to enjoy it. 4. When was the last time you slipped while taking a shower? It’s been awhile. 5. Does your mom have a Facebook? Yes.
6. Who would you never give a kidney to? The only ones I WOULD give one to would be my family or closest friends.
7. What was the last show you watched on Nickelodeon? Probably the Loud House because of the children that live here. Or SpongeBob. Or Paw Patrol. One of those three. 8. Have you ever been bitten by a rat? Yeah. 9. Do you feel sticky right now? No. 10. Why do you not wash off your makeup on some nights? Because I’m tired and just don’t care. 11. Do you think that’s healthy? Not even a little. 12. Then why do you do it? Because I don’t care about myself. 13. Who is the most annoying person you know? Probably me. Lol. Or maybe Jacob some days, like when all he wants to do is fuck and I’m just not in the mood because of everything on my plate and being tired and then he gets shitty af. 14. What does he/she do that makes you annoyed by them? I kind of explained Jacob a little. I get annoyed with myself because I’m 26 with two kids, so I should have my life in better shape than it is I feel like. Plus my emotional state. 15. How often do you use a film camera and develop pictures? I don’t. I use the camera on my phone. 16. Do you like Smiley Central? No clue what it is, but probably not. 17. What do you like/dislike about the show, One Tree Hill? I have no opinion since I’ve never seen it. 18. Why do people watch that stuff? You don’t have to think much when you watch shows like that. You can just be there and not have to worry or whatever. 19. Why are headbands coming “back in style”? I don’t know or care.. 20. Did you wear headbands when you were younger? Yeah. 21. How many people do you know are on vacation right now? No one that I know of. 22. Do Uncrustables look disgusting to you, or is that just me? Yeah, I won’t eat them. I feel like after being frozen, the bread will be soggy and gross, or the peanut butter and/or jelly is going to taste funky. 23. How are people’s personalities living in the north, as opposed to the south? In the south, the people seem to be nicer and less in a hurry I guess. It also seems cheaper in some areas, although more expensive in the bigger cities, at least compared to where I live. The scenery is also better in the south - where I live (in the north), we have corn fields and flatness. 24. What has been the corniest thing you’ve seen/heard today? Nothing comes to mind. 25. Do puppy dog faces work on you? If my kids were to do them, or you know, actual puppies. That’s about it. 26. What do you think nudists do when they are on their period? I have no idea. They might use tampons? Or a diva cup? I know nothing of that culture. 27. Don’t say tampon, what if they just did not have the ability to use one? Too late. I already did. I don’t know. Nor do I care. 28. Well…would you ever try a nudist cult for a day? No. 29. How about Amish…for a month? No. 30. Describe the shirt you are wearing. It’s black and white. Kind of striped but uneven? It’s my usual interview shirt. 31. Would you ever go streaking? Probably not. 32. Right now? No. 33. When was the last time you cut your hair and fucked it up? I don’t know. 34. When was the last time you tried to be seductive? I can’t. I’m too awkward and weird. And feel uncomfortable. 35. What is your favourite kind of wallpaper? I don’t really like wallpaper. 36. Do you ever joke with your friend about humping? Not really. 37. What was the last research paper you wrote about? I don’t remember. 38. Did you ever buy those pencils with your name already printed on them? No. I’ve never seen my name on those types of things. It made me sad a bit growing up. Lol. 39. Did it piss you off when you couldn’t find your name? Not pissed off, no. 40. Do you have a curvy tummy? Since having two kids, yeah. More than I would like. 41. Doesn’t internet on the cell phone suck? Mine is usually decent. 42. When was the last time you bought cereal for the prize inside? I was a kid, and technically my parents bought it. Oh, I take that back. I totally might have done this for Wyatt at least once. 43. Why do some Mexicans down the street look at you and everything… ...you’ve got to be kidding me with this shit. 44. How many frames are in your room? I don’t know. 45. What was the last fight you had about? Something petty, I am sure. 46. Have you ever had any doctors come to your house to check up on you? No. 47. What is the weirdest thing you have done in 7th grade? I gave Jacob my lunches because I didn’t eat them. Uhm. I don’t know besides that. 48. Are those mice with little red balls on it hard to control? Huh? 49. What makes you ticked, get pissed off easily? Abusive people. 50. Does blueberry syrup sound good to you, right now? Not right this second, no.
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Parts from “The Heart Is A Home” My memoir is dedicated to Jed Flaherty. A good man. A friend of mine who passed away too young
The half scissors went twirling...This will be the last paragraph. It was how this book was supposed to start. It will lead into my second book
(Screaming) I won’t do what I (I will be in italics) want to do. (this was yesterday. trying to figure out how to get AA members like Ajaib to stop manipulating me) I was on the Berkeley campus.
“You know the psych building is over there” said some guy across the walkway.
“Well, my dick is right here (pointing down at my crotch) why don’t you suck it”, says I. The student stops walking. Looks like he can’t believe I said that. This happens quite a bit in my life, as you will see.
“And you know what? The medical building is that way- (I point half-heartedly. Its only a half-hearted point because I’m not sure in fact if the medical building IS that way). What I do know is that if this guy keeps running his mouth, he is going to go to SOME medical complex. So I tell him so.) “You want to go there”? He is still staring, so I take my jacket, drop it at my feet and pose. “What”, I say, loudly and aggressively. He knows what so he proceeds to continue walking. What had sparked my yelling? ALOT of things. Not enough nicotine for the day surely played a part. The fact that I had another crush that didn’t look like it was going to work out.- It has been 14 years since I dated anyone seriously. Robin told me she was the most romantic man she had ever met. And was in love with Rain who lived down the street from us, and was married, worked with her, and had kids. I would not sleep with her because she would not go to the clinic and get tested. It was a deal breaker for both of us. She told me she did love me. I had won her over in the end. But I clearly remember, one night when we were in bed next to her saying...Robin...she was silent...”I love you”. She said it back to me, but I could tell it wasn’t sincere. She kind of whined it. I haven’t had sex with the last two girls I dated seriously. Went ten years at one point without having sex. For me, unless its SUPER sexy and lustful, fucking a girl I’m not in love with- well, lets just say I’d rather go on a nice motorcycle ride.
Yesterday I was absolutely FURIOUS with Ajaib, my occasional employer. He was fucking around with me. I told him not to. Words out of my mouth. Now, don’t get me wrong, employers are known to fuck around with their employees. THIS situation however was a special, oh so special case. He was making it clear to me that he did not want me to have a bed to sleep in. Has this motherfucker ever been bedless? (The Heart Is A Home, I am not “homeless”) Would he be doing it if he had? I don’t think he has. I know a bit of his story. We are both in recovery, (and don’t give me any anonmymity SHIT. If folks in AA in San Francisco do NOT PRACTICE AA, and it’s principals, then anonymity does not exist. YOU aren’t going to do AA? Great. That really helps. Very nice. Don’t expect me too. Do not expect your anonymity to be protected if you are manipulating me and lying and fucking me over. That SURELY is not AA) so thats how I know him, thats how I know a bit of his story. Ajaib is in AA, and I WAS. I left yesterday for good. You know last year, I told an ex-sponsor and a gentleman I’ve known for 9 years that I was going to leave, and they both thought it was a good idea? One of the gentleman said to me once “Colin decides who is cool”
“In your world” I replied instantly. I don’t know about you, but I decide who is cool. Colin had ZERO sponsees at that point by the way. And he decides for people in the cult who is cool? Is that AA? What IS THAT? Where is that in The Big Book of AA? San Francisco AA is not AA. I will come back to this point again. And again. And again. If it was, I would not leave. All I can say, I am glad I decide for myself who is cool. It’s one of the qualities that make me a man. Ajaib is not a man. He is not his own man. He is someones bitch. I refuse to be that, which makes me QUITE unpopular in San Francisco AA. Good thing I left, eh? Cool, but not cool because I’m a man.
I made a few decisions yesterday. What I have been doing has not been working. I’m not happy at the moment. I am lonely (read, NOT A BITCH), acquired a new sponsor fairly recently. I was at a meeting at 8 in the morning, I shared, and I was on my way to go ask another gentleman, when purple spandex (he rocks these at this meeting sometimes) man intervenes. steps in front and offers to sponsor me. THIS motherfucker obviously wants to sponsor me. Its sort of poor ettiquete to go step in front of someone when they are approaching someone else for sponsorship. Soon after, the guy I was going to ask got voted secretary of the meeting. Purple spandex was nominated. Didn’t win. I dumped purple spandex and told him I was leaving AA. I am doing so because he is not being honest with me about who his new employer is. 26 years sober this guy has. I pretty much feel like he used me TO GET this new job. Also, he seems quite content that I am bedless as well. Almost right away this guy, apropos of nothing that I can remember, spandex tells me that he “is very well known in his field”. This is suppose to impress me I suppose. AA HAS changed me. I no longer have to say everything I think, because what I was thinking was “yeah, I have two ex sponsors who are very well known in their field”(art and rock and roll). I did not say anything. What was said to impress me I guess, had quite the opposite effect. NOW, howver, purple spandex is lying about who his employer is. How do I know? So- he’s talking about his new job for weeks he is. I notice something. I’m not going to share WHAT I notice, but I notice something. So I wait. And wait. And wait. Casually one day I ask “what does your company do”? He stammers a response, but doesn’t tell me what the company does, tells me the NAME of the company, not what they do. This would work on alot of people, even with the stammer. I follow up- “What is your percent market share”?
The company he supposedly works for has one competitor. He plays it fairly cooly, but there is a hint of frustration here. Exasperation. “oh, I don’t know”. That is BULLSHIT. A bold face lie. Thats the kind of thing, when you are a large company, bringing in alot of revenue, and are leading a team, as he says he is- well, suffice it to say, they tell you that on the first day of work, if not in the initial phone interview. It is the kind of thing you research yourself in fact, if you want the job. I remember my first phone interview with Richard at SPG group, I was actually able to tell him how much the growth the company had experienced in the last year. Unprompted. I wanted the job. And I got it
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