#outside her and its like. oh. of course. there's the exact same intensity and energy its just projected the opposite way. of course someone

[bitchthefuck1]

I actually really love that we see Helena's palpable hesitation about going back to the severed floor. We know that this has all been a publicity thing for her and it's about helping Lumon, so she's really invested in the outcome, but like. from her POV, she's literally letting someone who actively hates her and everything she stands for, and also has a proven willingness to hurt herself if it means hurting Helena, who now knows who she is and her significance to Lumon, pilot her body for 8 hours every day in an environment where they've repeatedly failed to control her. If I were her, I'd be genuinely surprised to wake up with my limbs intact.

You already questioned why on earth she'd come back after Helly's suicide attempt, and the identity reveal explains the reasoning, but on a human level that's still a wild thing to have to think about. This person (who is you but also isn't) almost succeeded in killing you, and like a week later you let them pilot your body again like nothing happened. How could you not be terrified?

[enbiart]

Delinquent kel at the party Aubrey took him to?

HELLO I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE SOMETHING. yes this is written instead of drawn out. a bitch needs to break out of xyr writers block.

i tried to put in a read more and it didnt work :| mobiles a bitch

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The music pounded through his skull. It was loud and blaring, a constant thump thump thump coursing through his veins. It was some pop song he'd heard on the radio a million times yet somehow never caught the words to; Not that it'd do him any good to know them, anyway. He could barely hear his own thoughts over the chatter and movement of people throughout the house.

He took a sip from his solo cup. It was nearly empty with some off-brand soda, more flat than fresh. It was the exact same drink he'd gotten when he first arrived - Aubrey advised against getting refills after the party really got going, saying that the drinks would probably get spiked at some point.

On the other side of the living room, some girl started taking her top off to the slurred cheers of the crowd. That's as good a sign as any that people were getting drunk now. Kel sighed and took another sip. He was starting to get a headache.

He decided to go look for Aubrey. They may have arrived together, but they almost immediately got separated. He wanted to be hurt by her negligence, but after just five minutes in the sea of dancing highschoolers and strobe lights he could barely tell left from right.

At first, the energy and atmosphere of the party made his blood positively sing. Ducking in between partygoers, grooving to the tunes, helping himself to the snacks - this was nothing like those lame school dances. It was leagues better - it was exciting and new and made the world outside the house walls melt away as if it didn't exist.

But now...now he was a bit lost on what to do. He tried socializing, had a thousand different topics he could use to befriend strangers with, but this was a party organized by the graduating class of his highschool to celebrate the start of their last year and he was just a freshman. A short, baby-faced freshman at that. Even now he could see people giving him weird looks from the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to make much progress with these folks.

He groaned quietly. Bothering Aubrey would make him feel better.

He downed the rest of his soda and tossed the cup to the floor. Everyone else had done it, so why bother being the one person to actually look for a trash can? ...He actually felt kinda bad for the guy that had to clean this place up after the party. Poor, poor man.

Kel wandered through the house, peeking into different rooms and regretting most of it. There were a lot of drunk high schoolers doing a lot of drunken misdeeds. There was going to be so, so much gossip at school next week, he was sure of it. Thankfully, none of the drunken miscreants had pink hair, so he was saved the horror of having to tell Aubrey she'd done something embarrassing.

After making a full round through the house, he found himself looking into the kitchen. It was less crowded than the other rooms - some unspoken party ettiquette to not mess with the fine china? - and it was there that he finally caught sight of Aubrey. He opened his mouth to call out to her -

- only to freeze as he saw the people she was with. He recognized them as her newer friends. Kim, and her brother Vance. Kim was sitting on the counter, playfully kicking him as they bickered about something he couldn't hear. Aubrey was clutching her stomach laughing at whatever it was. None of them noticed Kel standing in the entrance.

Something twisted in his chest at the sight. It prickled painfully and made the room feel too small and too hot. He clenched his fists hard enough to hurt.

Wordlessly, he turned and left.

The back door of the house was in a hallway directly to the left of the kitchen. The hallway was empty and the door unlocked, so Kel didn't think twice about slipping outside into the night.

The sudden shift from the heat of the party to the chill of the night was enough to give him goosebumps, and he belatedly wished he'd worn something with longer sleeves. The back light was on, moths and gnats fluttering around it and casting moving shadows on the patio. Colors from the party inside streamed through the windows, and the music was still fairly audible.

He gritted his teeth. There was a rusty metal gate in the fencing around the yard that led to the side of the house. It only came up to his hip, and he hopped it.

The alley between this house and the next was dark and cold; The streetlamp further ahead barely reached it. Metal trash bins were lined up against the walls, in varying degrees of fullness. A cricket began to chirp nearby, and the sound hurt his ears.

He took a deep breath, walked further into the alley, and kicked one of the trash cans as hard as he could. And then he kicked it again, and again, and again. He knocked one onto its side and stomped on it with all his might. The lid rolled on the ground. He picked it up and threw it into the street.

The sound and smell was horrible but it still felt oh, so satisfying. He didn't even know why he felt so angry. He already knew Aubrey had friends other than him. Hell, he knew they were probably ten times more fun than him at parties. There was no damn reason for him to be so pissed off, and yet! Here he was! Here he was!

He growled and kicked another. Ugh!

It had taken a lot of effort to get to this party in the first place. His parents had been absolute asses about everything he did lately, and didn't even approve of him hanging out with Aubrey any more ever since the town started talking about her. He'd had to work up a lot of nerve to ask Aubrey to take him here, and even more to actually get here. He climbed out a window, for Christ's sake! Climbed down a house!

So why -

SMASH!

- was he -

SMASH!

- having such -

SMASH!

- a crummy time?!

He panted. His foot was starting to hurt.

"Looks like someone's having fun."

He jumped, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to turn around. Bathed in shadow, Aubrey stood leaning against the wall, watching him with an amused expression. Kel's face flushed with embarrassment. God, she must've seen all of that.

"Whoops, didn't mean to scare you," She said unapologetically. "I don't think I could've given you a heads up, though, with how into it you were."

Kel glared weakly at her and crossed his arms. He knew she was going to make fun of him for his little temper tantrum, but he really wished she wouldn't. "I don't know what you're talking about," He said defiantly.

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure," She said with an eye roll. She pushed off the wall and further into the alley where he was; In the improved lighting, he noticed she was carrying her bat. He didn't remember her bringing it with her. Maybe it wasn't actually hers. It might've been the homeowner's. She pointed the tip to the ground and eyed him with something like anticipation. "Mind if I join you?" She asked.

Kel blinked. Um, what? "I, uh, still don't know what you're talki -"

"Can I tell you something, Kel?" She interrupted. She changed focus from him to the fallen and dented bins on the ground, and shifted her hold on the bat to two hands. The hair on Kel's neck stood on end at the intensity in her eyes. She took a deep breath, and said, "I really hate this town."

And then she swung.

The sound of her bat bashing against metal stabbed his ears and brought his headache back tenfold, but like before, the sight of the destruction brought such a deep satisfaction it almost left him breathless. Cathartic, that's what it was. She brought her bat down again and again and again, over and over and over, and each swing got his blood pumping and his heart racing. He felt himself grin, and couldn't resist the temptation to join in.

He'd kick a can onto its side and then kick it over to Aubrey, who'd be tense and waiting to strike it hard down the alley. A particularly stubborn can would refuse to dent under his weight and she would nudge him out the way and go to town on the poor object. The party was gone completely from their minds as they set their sights on complete devastation. They laughed, breathless and crazed and high on adrenaline.

Their mayhem didn't go unnoticed for long. A window of the neighboring house opened, and someone yelled out, "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Kel only had a second to panic about the consequences before Aubrey grabbed his hand and took off running. He nearly fell over himself, but quickly found his footing and ran right beside her. He could run faster than her if he wanted to, but he didn't want to. He wanted to run with her. He didn't particularly care where they were running to - as long as it was with her.

They were still laughing as they ran.

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Fighting with Aliens”

So I wrote this to address a very interesting difference between humans and aliens because I realized it could��potentially cause serious conflict if an outsider would to look on. Has fight scenes in it obviously, and blood, so there is that. I can foresee some of you not liking the outcome, so if you are easily bothered, probably don’t read this one. 

Where was that man! She swore, every morning he was somewhere different. Like what kind of person has a schedule THAT erratic. She wondered how he even survived as a person without structure in his life. But then again, that’s what she was here for, to bring structure, and he very much desperately needed it.

She was determined that by the time she was done, he would have a schedule predictable to the minute.

That was, of course, if she could find him.

She swore that one of these days she was going to have to lojack that man, fit him with some kind of tracking system in his sleep so she could find him every morning.

Unfortunately, right now she was on her own, and was forced to start from the top down starting with the bridge then moving down to the administrative deck. 

She rather hoped he might already be in his office, but when she found nothing she definitely kicked herself for being that stupid. Admiral Vir was NEVER in his office. In fact, he was notorious for avoiding it whenever he could.

Then again, Admiral Vir was notorious for a lot of things, and that was included but not limited to avoiding his office, wearing heelies on the job, making horrible dad jokes, blasting music on the bridge, and eating all the popsicles.

Simon herself was notorious for almost the exact opposite, her perfectly pressed uniform, her ability to be one time down to the minute, her tendency to get stressed when things didn’t go to plan, and her surprisingly frequent inability to understand the Admiral’s jokes.

It made her feel sort of bad considering that Even the little alien doctor Krill seemed to get it, and if there was anyone on the ship that she could understand, it was him. He had a schedule like a rock solid wall of dependability, a mind like a steel trap, and a sense of humor so dry and clever it ALSO went over her head.

She turned the corner brooding her face pulled down into a frown nearly running into a figure rushing in the opposite direction. She had to leap out of the way in surprise as Dr. katie, the dark haired bespectacled attending physician, yelped in shock.

“Dr Katie!”

Dr. katie put a hand over her chest, “Simon, you scared me half to death.”

Simon rubbed the back of her head a bit, “Sorry, um, do you have an idea where the Admiral is?”

“Oh Adam, yes I know where he is. I was actually headed down there right now if you want to join.”

Simon nodded and fell into step beside the tall doctor.

“I can never find him in the morning.”

“Yeah, no that does sound like Adam. If it helps, just head down to krill’s office one of these days, and we should be able to give you administrative access to his tracking system.”

“Wait, you-”

“Yeah sort of a precaution after he kept getting kidnapped so much, plus he has a habit of hiding when he gets stressed, which isn’t so much a problem these days, but in the past it was a real bitch to find him.”

Simon shook her head in near amazement as she followed Dr. Katie down a set of stairs and onto the crew deck.

They walked for a few meters when the sound of metal ringing on metal reached her ears.

She trailed after Dr. katie as they came around the corner into the massive Rec room at the center of the crew deck. She didn’t come here much and so would never have thought to look. She was rather awkward around people and didn’t know how to talk to them in a normal manner outside work related topics.

She had always been horrible talking to people, getting to know them, or bonding with them in general.

Humans weren’t exactly easy to understand.

So she tended to spend most of her time locked away in her office or in her room, or sitting on the bridge where she could work, where things were procedural, and memorizing notes and lists was a strength. When it came to work there were always protocols, measures to get things done, and a strict adherence to he rules. When it came to people,  there was no telling what they were going to do: the Admiral being the prime example.

Generally Admiral Vir was not the kind of person she would like to spend time with. He was extroverted, outgoing, erratic, and high energy, but he was a very empathetic man, and he made up for most of the other things with patience and kindness towards her even when she didn’t allow it for herself.

In return, she had put all her effort into trying to understand him. She had observed, and watched and made lists and taken notes. She knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. She knew what people on the crew were his closest friends, she knew his favorite places to spend time.

She had a detailed profile written up about him in her personal log -- which never occurred to her could be misconstrued as being super super creepy.

Those were the reasons why she knew he was a science fiction nerd, he had a collection of old movies from the information age, he liked a mix of alternative, hard rock, heavy metal, and punk, when he ate his food he insisted on eating the items in order from least favorite to most favorite, he benched 270, and he talked with his family every friday night at six.

Of course that wasn’t exactly a comprehensive list, but just things she knew off the top of her head to better understand the man that she was working for She hoped that the more that she knew one day she would be able to understand him and work well with him without forcing him to hold her hand when it came to running his daily routine.

However, when she stepped into the rec room, she received a shock that she had not expected or really appreciated.

She wasn’t a big fan of surprises.

Yet this was, indeed, a surprise.

The rec room was large and circular inhabiting the very center of the fourth deck. The outer ring contained chairs and tables and TVs and pool tables, all of the sort of recreational things that normal people liked to do in their downtime, but in the center of that there was another large ring, bounded by walls on all sides and with benches looking inward.

Simon hadn’t been sure what that was for when she was first brought aboard the ship, though now she was getting a first hand demonstration as to its use.

Admiral Vir stood in the circle, lightly dressed and wearing hard leather padding on his head, shoulders, chest, arms, and upper legs. In one hand he was holding a metal staff just a little taller than he was.

His knees were bent in a low crouch, and the staff was held at a low forward angle.

On the other side of the ring stood one of the Drev clan members.

Flipping through her mental notes Simon remembered her name as Sunny or Chalan in her native language. She was the Chief weapons officer aboard the ship, was a mechanic, and rather short of a Drev. her and the Admiral tended to spend a lot of time together, and so she assumed that they were close friends.

However the part of this that surprised her tended towards the fact that, she didn’t know that Admiral Vir knew how to use a quarterstaff.

She froze in her place just as one of the watching drev -- a large red one named Cannon pronounced Kanan in his native tongue, slammed a metal spear against the ground to mark the beginning of the round..

Simon yeled in shock and surprise as the two charged at each other with roars, of what seemed to be rage -- though she had never been good at divining emotions.

Metal slammed against metal as the two crashed into each other. Sparks shed out to either side as they exchange a flurry of blows. He struck to the right, she parried to the left, she brought the right side of her spear up to try and catch him off guard, he spun away ducking under and jabbing forward. She blocked the jab to glance off to her right, and kicked out at him with one of her feet.

He dodged to the side and aimed a sheering blow at her head, which she caught last second on the shaft of her spear.

The fury of their fight left Simon reeling in shock and surprise. They didn’t pull their punches, they didn’t aim for the body only. This was full force, full speed, real weapons no holds barred combat!

In the stands Drev cheered them on with great enthusiasm. The humans that were watching had mixed feelings. Ramirez and Maverick were standing with the Drev screaming at Adam to get his head in the game and not be a wuss. Other humans were grimacing and wincing.

Dr. Krill st to the side looking exasperated at the same time he appeared at least sort of worried.

The Celzex onlookers were cheering with the frenzy of the Drev, yelling insults and encouragement to their favorite contender. A few of them were sitting on the shoulders of other enthusiastic, or, in some cases, concerned humans. THe FInnari huddled together around one specific human who looked to be having the time of her life comforting the tiny creatures.

And the Tesraki were nowhere to be seen, probably hiding or run away somewhere to count money.

Adam ducked under a cything blow that would have sent him straight to the emergency room and cut upward quickly, catching Sunny hard on the lower arm. She backed away showing no sign other that the blow had managed to phase her.

From there the fighting only grew more intense. From across the room Simon could hear the swish of the metal as it cythed through the air.

The clattering of steel hitting steel was practically deafening. SHe had no idea how the two of them were still fighting without their hands hurting.

And then Sunny feinted to her left passing into his blind spot where the epatch was.

He turned to face her, but she had already been moving.

A loud THWACK rent the air.

Admiral Vir’s feet left the ground as he was pitched back violently a good three feet before slamming into the ground. The metal rod was jostled from his hands and went clattering across the ring.

The cr4owd had taken to their feet as a chorus of sympathetic noises rose from both sides.

Simon stood in shock for a half moment as Admiral Vir groaned and crawled to his hands and knees.

Sunny approached quarterstaff raised.

Simon raced forward and jumped into the ring, hands held up, “STOP!”

Sunny pulled to a halt looking confused.

The crowd booed.

“What are you doing!” her voice went up a few octaves, not sure what was going on. Why was no one trying to stop this. Admiral Vir sat back on his heels, wiping blood from his mouth and chin, which was dripping down from his nose, “Simon.”

The Drev above her were frowning, “Get out of the ring lieutenant.”

“No, what-”

“You're interrupting a duel, get out of the ring.”

Simon turned in a confused circle, “But-”

Admiral vir stood, holding his nose waving a hand at the Drev, “Timeout guys, she’s not familiar with Drev war practices, so give her a break.”

The Drev backed down a little but still looked a little miffed as Admiral grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the circle, “May I talk to you for a few minutes.” He marched her out of the circle, a hand on her arm, face still bleeding. Katie offered him a gauze pad, which he held to his face as he walked her oer to a table and sat her down.

“Simon, I  may have failed to mention this rule to you, but it is highly improper to intervene in a drev dueling match.”

Simon shook her head still reeling with confusion and horror, “But, Admiral, she hit you! Under section two subsection b of the UNSC manual it describes an act of violence on a UNSC ship as domestic battery.”

He coked an eyebrow, “You think Sunny just committed domestic assault, like punching your wife or husband or something.”

“Well yeah! Since we live on a ship, the UNSC classifies any aggressive action as domestic in nature.”

He sighed, “Simon, I am the leader of a Drev clan, I was adopted by two, which means I am a Drev and I must abide by their customs and rules.” He went to place a hand on her arm, but drew back after a moment knowing that she didn’t like to be touched, “Look, Simon, I know this is hard to understand, but the Drev aren't like us. To be Drev, to be friends with them, to be in a relationship with one if that were the case, means letting go of some preconceived human notions.”

“But hitting each other is not ok! She insisted 

Admiral Vir shook his head in a long suffering sort of way, “Simon, you're looking at this through the scope of being human. If it were a human that hit me, by all means lock them in the brig. Because when humans are aggressive it is attached to anger, or frustration or aggression. But when Drev fight it isn’t attached to emotion, in fact their mating practices require them to duel each other. Drev relationships seen by humans are often violent and aggressive, but it's part of who and what they are. To them something like this is a sign of trust and friendship. You cannot judge them based on human standards any more than they can judge us based on our human ones.”

“But I-”

“Simon, I agreed to this. I walked in here this morning and I said, hey sunny want to beat the tar out of me. To them an offer like that is a good thing, its….. Well it means much more than what it means for humans. Besides, once upon a time I lived in  a Drev village for a few months and was beaten up by pretty much everyone  I Came in contact with. From their language and their culture, I have since gained a much different understanding of fighting. I have a different relationship with it now.”

Simon shook her head, this was difficult to compute. People hitting each other was bad, that was a rule, that was something that was black and white to her. She didn’t understand how this man could consider it a good thing, or even as a sign of friendship. It didn’t make sense in the framework of everything she understood.

He sighed, “Look, how about this, you trust me to know what is right and wrong when it comes to the Drev. Working with them I expect things to be aggressive, I expect them to be violent. Assume that everything they do is a low level of aggressive. A lot of people would look at my friendship with Sunny and think that something is wrong with it based on how it looks from a human perspective, but both of us have made compromises, and it is actually a very healthy thing we have going. Honestly if she pulled her punches and didn’t hit me in the dueling ring I would be offended.

Simon still wasn’t sure about this.

He tapped his fingers on the table, “Ok, this might help, the Drev society is based on a very specific set of rules. You should go talk to Cannon about it. Sunny isn’t going to hit me outside of a duel. To strike someone in anger is considered to be bad as well. As far as outside the ring, Drev are expected to be bossy, pushy, stubborn, and mildly aggressive, so Anything they do that falls within a scale of mild is alright.

He stood, “Now if you'll excuse me. I have a Drev’s Ass to kick.”

Dr. Katie took the gauze from his hand as he clamberted back into the ring, blood still staining his mouth and chin.

Simon watched nervously as sunny spun her staff around.

“Done taking your little break.”

He cracked his neck, “Done taking my break, and to make it even, I’ll start from the ground.”

She snorted and Cannon slammed his spear into the ground once again.

Admiral Vir rolled to the side, picking up his spear on the way as Sunny charged after.

She cut down towards his face, and he caught it on the flat of his spear kicking upwards and catching her in the knee. 

She scrambled back.

He lept to his feet.

The fight went on like this.

Sunny got caught in the face once a shallow cut bleeding orange down her cheek, but instead of growing angry her eyes seemed to brighten with excitement. Admiral Vir took hits on the shoulder and the leg. Sunny got hit in the stomach and chest.

The fight continued, Admiral Vir was thrown to the ground. The Celzex were screaming in delight.

Sunny charged, but the admiral rolled forward thrusting the spear to roll along the ground before him.

Sunny was to late, her foot landed right on the shaft of the spear, and the spear rolled. Her leg slipped out from underneath her and she went crashing to the ground.

Admiral Vir leaped forward spinning the spear behind his back.

The room went quiet.

Admiral Vir Sat stradling Sunny’s chest one end of the quarterstaff to her throat.

He leaned in a little, “Better luck next time.”

The crowd Cheered.

Sunny raised her hands, “Good fight for a puny runt.”

“I could say the same about you he teased, rolling off to the side.”

Simon wasn’t really sure what to make of any of this. She still hadn’t managed to reconcile the fact that hitting wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because when Admiral Vir came out of the circle he was limping and still wiping blood from his face. If she had seen that on the street down on earth she would be very worried about him. She would call the cops.

But he was also smiling walking with Sunny as she limped right along with him. 

The way they looked at each other was…. strange .

She couldn’t place it.

She would need to rework her profile of him just a little. And she would have to rework her profile of the Drev. it seemed as if she was going to have to learn a whole new set of social rules for the different alien species.

She sighed in frustration.

She hadn’t even figured humans out yet and now she was expected to do more.

This was going to be a very long deployment. 

[toonqueen]

Duckvember 2020

-Mourning-

This takes place in my headcanon for Negaverse in 87/comic of what Nega Gladstone and Nega Magica are like (And by proxy Nega Poe haaaa.) BTW my Nega Gladstone is named Grimstone because he’s Hot Topic edgy like that okay. HUGS FOR THE THREE PEOPLE THAT MAY CARE ABOUT THIS SHORT STORY NNNGHHHH.

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Magica knew he was going to be upset when she told him the news. Of course he’d be upset. She had just underestimated how consumed by rage and vengeance Grimstone could be. 

The Grimstone Gander Magica knew was the one her brother had so enthusiastically introduced her to a year ago. Or had it been more than a year? She wasn’t sure on the exact details. 

Now it was too late to ask her brother to clarify. 

The Grimstone Magica knew was a brooding yet charming gentleman. Now an impression that did not fit the screams and smashing sounds coming from his room at random hours of the day.

Grimstone hadn’t left his bedroom in weeks. Magica placed food outside his door three times a day. When she returned for the dishes, sometimes the plates would be empty, sometimes they remained untouched.

After rejecting several meals in the past few days, Magica finally mustered up the courage to knock on his bedroom door. There was a shifting sound from inside. A growl, and a snarl; dragging noises, followed by more growling. Then, with a small click, the door unlocked--but remained closed.

Magica cautiously opened the door. Even though she’d just heard it being unlocked purposely for her, Magica crept inside, as if she were sneaking in. 

It wasn’t a hand that had unlocked the door, but a thin tendril, its topside covered in white feathers. The underside was lined with a tongue-like surface, teeth running along the edges.

Magica wasn’t frightened of the weird appendage. She’d seen Grimstone’s “skill” before: a maw that would split open from his torso, and drain energy from a deserving target. It made her a little uncomfortable, but she wasn’t scared. Magica was certain she’d never be on the receiving end of the monstrous tentacles. 

Her brother had never been put off by it. Often he would jokingly refer to it as Grim’s “starfish mode”. That would always get a small chuckle out of the stoic, betentacled duck. 

The tendril retracted back under the blanketed figure sitting on the floor. Nearly everything in the room was trashed. Furniture broken, all matters of knick-knacks destroyed. The bed was untouched though, as if he hadn’t slept in it for a while. A few framed photos and a tall mounted mirror on the walls remained intact as well.

The large window in the room was shattered, the moonlight shimmering just a little differently than normal.

Strange, Magica thought, the window didn’t look broken when she was outside the farmhouse earlier. Then again, she hadn’t left home much either. 

“I-- Do you--” Grimstone’s voice was hoarser than usual. He started like he wanted to speak normally. Civilized. He stared up at Magica with darkened eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept since the day he received the tragic news, expression desperate, heartbroken.

That expression quickly changed. Enough to make Magica step back. Even the moonlight in the room transformed from a mourning glow to a sharp brightness that matched Grimstone’s growing rage.

“Who did it!?” Grimstone demanded. Although he remained seated on the floor, his body was tense and intimidating. The feathers on his neck stood up, a snarl pulling back a corner of his beak. 

Magica took another step away, even though she silently assured herself Grim would never hurt her. “I-I told you. It was paladins. Generic white robes. Could have been anyone,” she answered, as if she were suddenly on trial. Startled and wanting to distract Grim, Magica said quickly, “You haven’t eaten all day. I was worried--”

“The same paladins that sent Poe here? The same paladins who expected me to kill and get rid of him?” Grimstone wasn’t yelling anymore, but there was something in his tone just as menacing and loud. 

Magica was frozen like a deer in headlights. Her eyes darted around the room, as if searching for an answer, anything to appease the furious duck. “I-- That would be the logical conclusion, but we…” Gathering more courage, she continued calmly, “We shouldn’t attack them, do anything rash. We need to wait. You need to get better first. I made your favorite...” 

“Better? Better? This isn’t the flu. This isn’t a cold. Poe’s gone and I wasn’t there to save him!” Grimstone stood as he shouted. 

This time, Magica didn’t shrink back. She could only stare at him, tears in her glassy eyes. 

Grimstone closed his eyes a moment, taking a deep breath. He then spoke in a softer voice, mirroring a tone Poe would use. “Thank you for doing your best to help me. I’m sorry I made you worry. I know he was your brother and you must be hurting too,” he said, appearing calmer, “I’ll be down to eat in a moment. If you don’t mind. Don’t prepare anything special. I’m sure there’s plenty of leftovers for something to warm up.”

Magica knew Grimstone enough not to trust this sudden change in behavior. It was like being in the eye of a storm. Everything still and serene, the sky blue and clear, but the worst was yet to come. Nonetheless, she decided not to pry, rather consciously chose to ignore it. Magica realized if Grim did go and wipe out the paladins that wronged Poe in the past, guilty or not, she didn’t care. She left that little spark to flicker in a pile of tinder. 

Magica just nodded at Grimstone and left the room. As she descended the stairs, she heard something smash on the floor. 

A full hour went by before Grimstone finally came down stairs. He was soaking wet, like he’d been standing out in the rain. But it wasn’t raining. 

Magica sat at the kitchen table with her head resting atop her folded arms. She perked up when she heard Grim’s approaching footsteps. In a flash, Magica reheated the leftovers in the microwave.

Grim sat down silently, waited.

Magica placed the nuked food and glass of water in front of him, concerned. She noticed a few teeth from the tentacle were exposed down his collar bone near his left shoulder, the split disappearing beneath his shirt. They were spotted with blood, and when Magica looked up, Grim was staring intensely at her.

“I took out several paladins. Leaders, all of them,” Grimstone growled, a hiss rattling from his throat, “you were a part of that sect with Poe. I need you to tell me all of their locations.” Despite his unnerving voice and the accompanying unsettling noises, he wasn’t threatening her. A simple demand, really. "Their luck will run out."

“I--It's not that easy,” Magica stated.

Grim casually picked up his fork, rolling a bit of casserole around it. “It is easy. You disguise me as Poe and say you're there to turn yourself in. Then we take them all out,” he said placidly, taking a bite. Magica noticed the corners of his cheeks were split farther back than normal, displaying more teeth.

Magica sat down across from him, hands folded. Saying nothing, just watching Grim.

Grimstone continued eating while he waited for an answer. 

“Why do you want me to come with you? I’m just a light mage-- I can’t… ” Magica looked down at her hands. 

“Don’t you ever want to go feral? Let the last thing they know is how they hurt you? That they are getting what they deserve,” Grimstone muttered, and went back to his food, clearing it off hungrily.

Oh, that word. That phrase. What they deserve. Deserve. 

There was a long silent pause again. The only sound was Grim scraping the fork on his plate to get any last scraps of the casserole. 

In a quiet voice and after some hesitation, Magica finally responded. “All right. But you must follow my lead…”

And months went by. Anyone that could be vaguely tied to Poe De Spell’s death met a grisly demise. 

The pair had just obliterated a group of monster hunters. Instead of leaving, Grim was frantically opening and slamming doors around the house the hunters were staying in.

“There has to be more of them!” he snarled. Another slam. 

Magica followed after him, finally cornering Grimstone face to face. “We got them all. There’s no one left. Let’s go,” she insisted. She touched his arm, trying to give a comforting squeeze.

Grimstone’s expression darkened. “There are always more.” He brushed off her hand and went to the next door down the hall. 

“Grim, these were just some vaguely bad hunters. They had nothing to do with Poe, really. We have to stop doing--”

Her attempts to calm Grim fell on deaf ears. Poe was more of the wordsmith, after all.

“Give me another paladin sect you know is corrupt,” Grimstone ordered as he threw another door open.

“We- we- we’ve been through them all,” Magica stammered, chasing after him.

“Every group has its rotten apples. We’ll go after them. It's all their fault.” Grim stormed inside a room, checking behind the big, billowing window curtains.

Magica lingered in the doorway. “This has to stop. There is no one else to blame. We’ve taken out all the possible--” Grimstone was suddenly standing in front of her. She awkwardly looked away. “We can’t keep doing this…”

“There is always someone to blame. I have to get every single person that could have hurt him. Would have hurt him.” Grimstone’s fists shook at his sides, blazing eyes an irritated red. Not yet tears, but close. 

Magica took a deep breath, then took a risk. “You’re not to blame. It wasn’t your fault,” she stated, looking him directly in the eyes. She wasn’t as good at reading people as Poe, but Grim’s behavior had become obvious. All this lashing out at others when he was internally accusing himself for her brother’s death.

Grim’s face went through an array of expressions at Magica’s words. Surprise, anger, grief. He took a step back from her, shaken. “How dare you… say...”

Magica rushed up to Grimstone, wordlessly hugged him tight. She really didn’t know what else to do. She expected him to still be aggressive, wiggle away and fight. Instead, he practically crumbled in her arms. It was a weight she didn’t expect. The mage did her best to bring them both kneeling down on the floor, though rather clumsily.

One of the most powerful monster warlocks in the world was now crying and trembling in her arms.

“I’d destroy the whole world to have him back,” Grimstone choked between sobs, trying and failing to sound angry, “I will do whatever it takes…!”

“I know, I know,” Magica soothed, stroking and cradling his head. He only whimpered in response. Grimstone, overwhelmed by his own emotions, did not notice the faint glow of white light from Magica’s comforting fingers.

-----------------

“Taking a little break from your murder spree, huh?” Negaduck chortled at Grimstone. He hadn’t seen his magical affairs related informat in person in at least a year. 

“Huh? Oh... yes. When we lost Magica’s brother, we... well. It was an interesting time, to say the least,” Grimstone replied vaguely. 

Though Negaduck rarely cared, he was a bit intrigued by the wording the warlock just used. He decided to press further. “That's a shame. Would have loved you using some of that rage on the thorns in my side,” Negaduck said as he glanced at Grimstone’s hand. “Still going to wear the ring though, huh?”

Grimstone curiously tilted his head. “What? Magica and I may disagree on some of the actions taken after her brother’s death, but if she hadn’t been there for me, I don’t know if I would have ever recovered. Poe was one of my best friends. Losing him was--”

The warlock rubbed his head, suddenly aching. Painful chills lanced through his scalp, spikes of heat driving into his temples.

Negaduck, not put off by this, leaned in close. “I thought you were marri--”

What Negaduck would have finished with was “married to the other De Spell,” if not for the icy glare from Magica across the street. She wasn’t all dark magic and lethal weapons like other Negaversers. However, there was still an intimidating air about the light mage, a violent can of worms that Negaduck knew better not to open. Instead, Negaduck said, “Well, I better let you go then. Before your old ball and chain starts breaking mirrors with that stare.”

“Heh," Grimstone smirked. He knew Negaduck acted like he didn't care, but surely there was a tiny part of him that did. "Don't worry about it,” he added, “she's just keeping me out of trouble. For now." 

"Hmph." Negaduck crossed his arms. He didn't like the warlock being manipulated by anyone else; that was his job. He raised his head, glared at Magica with narrowed eyes. However, he decided not to pry any further.

When Grimstone had finished his report, he rejoined Magica. She gave him a peck on the cheek, then both of them disappeared in the nearest reflective surface to teleport home.

----

Thank you so much @cataradical for editing. Also the starfish nickname is from @schadenfredde

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Revenge of the Trix” Thoughts

Diving into this second special and I have to say that I am actually quite excited to see how this will go. It was fun comparing the first special to season 1 even though I kinda expected to be angered. But good news! I wasn’t. Not so much at least and I really hope that pattern will continue.

- I am not quite sure but I think they changed the timeline a little bit. Though, if it means I get the festival of the rose or that battle with the witches in Magix, I am down! I doubt it but I will hold on to my hopes until they get dashed!

- I am still puzzled by Faragonda’s remark about the “powerful forces here at work”. What does that mean? Who is she talking about? She can’t be wary of Daphne so what the hell is happening? Was she concerned at the possibility of Bloom having Dragon Fire? I really hope they will explain some of this. But I like that they added the fact that Daphne was the princess of Domino. It wasn’t in the original of this scene and I am glad they changed that.

- Okay, without the bike rescue and the way the dialogue in that scene is reworked, the Riven and Darcy stuff is way more disturbing than it used to be! She straight up spelled him without any connection being made outside of that and it just looks way too creepy. Not to mention that it does a disservice to Riven’s character as well because if Darcy never rescued him, he has no other reason to be meeting her other than “I don’t care about my friends, just about being great”.

- Spring break? Wow! We really sped through that school year.

- Was that montage from Gardenia in the original? I don’t quite remember that but it is cute as hell! And to end it with Mike and Vanessa hugging while happily watching their daughter? I will go sob now if you’ll excuse me. Beautiful.

- Wait, she’s dreaming of the night Mike saved her from the fire (instead of, you know, the fire in the flower shop)? And by the looks of it, in this she doesn’t know that she’s adopted like she did in 4kids season 1... I am actually in trepidation over this next scene.

- Well, that scene went better than I thought it would. But she really didn’t know about being adopted. I am just glad that she didn’t get mad they hadn’t told her the truth. It would have broken my heart. And they are her parents anyway.

- Omg, Bloom is asking all the right questions! I cannot believe it! I am absolutely ecstatic that they changed that part because now it is really making sense (I had given up on ever saying that in regards to Winx Club again so I vote my decision to watch the specials “fucking spectacular”). She connected the dots about getting her powers from her birth parents! I have been so salty about her not asking that in season 1 but they fixed it! Imma go happy sob again.

- Faragonda is showing her stuff now? Of her own volition? Nice! I just don’t think the “Daphne lived in a lake” thing makes sense. Didn’t her soul go there after her body was destroyed by the curse of Sirenix? That is different! And considering Faragonda’s past with the Company of Light, that is not all that she knows about Daphne so she’s kinda lying.

- Now that she saw the crown, does that mean that they don’t get to waste time going to Domino even though her powers were inside her all along? I really, really hope so! And the way Daphne presented the crown to her could be taken as symbolism about Daphne passing it down to her now that Bloom is the only living heir to the throne of Domino. That was a cool detail and a great change imo (especially if they aren’t gonna go to Domino).

- Well, Lucy’s PoV was kinda made more... understandable, I guess? Like, the wording was better... right before the very end of that argument between her and Mirta. That was somehow meaner than what happened in s1. But I actually like the change to the scene with Mirta casting her spell to spy on the Trix. I think it makes more sense than the way it was done in s1.

- How does she know there is an archive in Cloud Tower when she has never been there? I think this scene suffers from the changes. And it is also really convenient that she decided to break into CT just in time for the Trix to trick her. I think those scenes were backwards in s1 and it was after the Trix saw her in CT that they came up with their plan which was better because it didn’t look so staged. Also, “What are friends for?” Yeah, right, Sky. Friends. Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure. And you weren’t totally on a date.

- That scene with the Specialists was pretty intense considering its length. Since when is Brandon being the cautious one? While Timmy is like “Sure I’ll help you commit major offense against school rules, no probs”? I could take Brandon’s behavior as a best friend’s worry and Timmy’s as a friend’s desire to help out but it still seems a bit out of place. I am just glad that Sky is taking care of the tactics instead of just throwing himself at it.

- And there is no defense system or anything here. I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. It was kinda random when it popped up in s1 (never to be seen again, mind you) but it seems a bit illogical for the school to not have some kind of protection (especially if it has powerful spells inside). Idk.

- I am stunned by Sky’s absolute dumbassery that is bordering on being an asshole (and even tipping right into it). What does it matter if she’s a witch? She is still the same Bloom she was before she learned it, wtf, dude? (Not to mention that this pisses me off greatly because it implies that all witches are pure evil.) I just can’t understand why Bloom didn’t wonder how she has a fairy form then. She can turn into a fairy and that is pretty solid proof that she isn’t a witch. Why didn’t she question it?

- Awww! I love how worried Winx are for Bloom! And I think they’re skipping classes (and risking to get in big trouble with Griselda) to go look for her. True friendship!

- What is she doing sleeping in the bushes? And why doesn’t she just try to fly there? You know, get some proof for herself that she’s a fairy since she has the wings and all?

- Why is Stormy just setting random patches of grass on fire? I agree with Darcy, it can be dangerous if she sets the whole forest on fire.

- “Why would we be so cruel? For giggles.” XDDD

- They changed Mirta’s powers to transforming emotions into energies? That is kinda cool but isn’t that what all magic does?

- The Dragon just swept the Trix away? Is that what happened? It looked like it just fucked off into the sky without doing shit but I digress. But aww at the way Tecna scooped up Bloom so carefully! It was adorable!

- If I were Bloom, I would leave Sky a very angry message and he’d have to give a real good apology for me to take him back. The moment she appeared to be something he didn’t expect, he pulled away from her. That is not someone you want to be in a relationship with. I just wish Bloom would figure out that she can do better. If he shallow like that, you don’t need him, hon. (But hey, don’t blame Kiko! And that wasn’t bad advice! If you want to talk to someone, you should fucking call them! That was good advice.)

- Oh, no! No, no, no, no! Please, not the Day of the Royals! I beg of you! Though, it will have to happen because that is what makes Bloom go back to Gardenia where the Trix corner her. But what will happen with the Diaspro story? Bloom knows that Sky is Sky. Though, he still didn’t tell her he was engaged so I guess there can be drama over that. Ugh, why?

- “That’s a relief”? Fuck you, Sky! So her not being a witch is what makes or breaks this relationship - actually, pardon me, THIS FRIENDSHIP according to his own definition - and not, you know? Her goddamn personality maybe? Damn, what a fucker. Seriously, he is so much worse than in s1. Bloom should really stop wasting time on his sorry ass and go snatch Diaspro for herself instead. Why does he have a picture of Diaspro btw? He does not really care for her... like, at all. Not that he cares for anyone, apparently.

- Oh, so now he loves Bloom? Also, great going, Timmy! Yeah, just suggest breaking off a royal engagement. Without even asking what the political situation is. That is not the best idea. I mean, there was the possibility that Eraklyon needed that marriage. Which, of course, they don’t but still. It ain’t that simple. (God, I hate giving Sky an excuse but this really is a complicated situation. Though, he could have just told Bloom about the arranged marriage instead of lying to her.)

- She could have just waited instead of going for the option of getting them all in trouble. It was only one day. But at least Winx tried to talk her out of it instead of being right there with her in the impulsiveness. And yet, they still decided to support her like friends do. That is cute!

- “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Ya think? And yes, being around Erendor and Samara is definitely not a great experience.

- Ooh, she saw Sky directly with Diaspro! Damn, that changes things. And I hate to admit it but it makes more sense because at least now she has a solid reason to jump to conclusions.

- Oh, no! She thinks it is the Trix again. Honestly, I just wish she would have seen Sky for the lying piece of shit that he is! It would have saved so much trouble. I feel bad for Diaspro, though. She just got attacked without having done anything to deserve it. Shocking, I know. But none of this was her fault.

- Sky really did that with Riven? I thought he would be more mature than Riven but nope. He is really campaigning for asshole of Red Fountain. I know Riven started this but Sky has previous offenses against both Bloom and Diaspro so he takes the cake.

- Codatorta was very quick into action. It was kinda impressive. I see that the conflict between Griffin and Faragonda is non-existent here. “I see it’s not just my students who can behave badly”? This coming from Griffin? That has the exact opposite tone of her line in the original. It’s kinda like “Well, we’re in this together because obviously neither my, nor your students know what the hell they are doing.” Though, it can still be taken as a subtle dig as in “You thought you had the high ground when you sent me back the Trix but look at what your fairy has done!”. That actually sounds more like it, though her tone of voice was still a bit too soft for a confrontation.

- Hey, no nightmare monster? But does that mean that the Trix don’t get expelled from CT?

- Aww, I wish she wouldn’t just leave her friends behind! And that montage of memories. (But what the heck is Tecna doing at that fountain? Get down from there, Tecna! I thought you were the reasonable one!)

- How do the Trix know Bloom is from Gardenia? It sounds like they are the bestest of friends with her instead of mortal enemies.

- Awwwwww! Mike and Vanessa keep being so supportive! I love it!

- I actually think I like how they reworked this scene! Icy dropped them in the portal thingy (whatever the hell it was) to force Bloom to transform and lower her guard at the same time and I think it made some more sense than the original did.

- “Our ancestral witches”? That sounded kinda weird. I was just about to say in my conclusion for this special that they dropped the Daphne storyline halfway through this but I see they haven’t. I am pleasantly surprised! And Bloom actually learns that she is her sister (which for some reason was missing from the 4kids dub) as well as all the stuff about Domino. Well, all in very vague terms but still.

- I actually prefer the original way they plucked the fire out of her. It was more jarring while here the animation was just a tad bit too smooth for what it needed to accomplish.

- Oh, and here her fairy form just vanished after they took the flame? I love that! It was the one thing that instantly told me that she still had her powers in s1 because she still had her winx for a while after they took it from her. But here it disappeared the moment the Trix took off with her power. I am curious to see if it is actually gone. Though, I can understand how believing she doesn’t have it anymore can get in the way of her transforming because magic comes from emotions.

This was actually better than I thought it would be and I went in with some expectations because of the first special! I am so pleasantly surprised! The plot carried well throughout this one as well and I supported about 95% of the changes they made from the original storyline which is a lot more than I expected! There was a thing or two that didn’t make much sense, but overall, this was pretty logical! My nitpick would be with the title of this special because the Trix weren’t all that central to it and there was no revenge whatsoever here. I would call it more of a hunt, really. So that would’ve been better if it had been something else having to do with Bloom since she remained at the front and center the whole time... And that didn’t annoy me at all. Wow! I kinda wish they will rework all the seasons into specials now if they can make me like Bloom (though, I admittedly had my moments of that in s1 as well. It is just that the later on we go, the more I can’t stand her). Now I am hyped about the next one and I really hope I won’t be disappointed because it will be such a shame after the good work in this one. (Oh, and the rest of Winx didn’t have much role in this one but I was actually so absorbed in the Bloom storyline that I didn’t notice until this very moment. Man, these specials are really working a miracle here!)

[kpopwh0re-blog]

Who Are You?

BTS IMAGINES: 

Help Me Remember Series: Part 1 intro

Member: Min Yoongi

Relationship: Min Yoongi x Reader

A/N: short, but it’s an introduction!

Reader’s POV

     The show after a long day finally came to an end. Screams ending as the crowd left the building. You were led by staff to get your things from the dressing room. Jin’s laughter soon filling the hallway making you turn around. Yoongi was on his back as Jin bounded towards you. Your husbands sweet laughter filled the air as he gripped onto Jin. A smile gracing your face at the sight, you loved seeing him happy. Especially after all he’s been through with his depression and anxiety. Seeing him happy was all you could as for in the world.

     Jin sets Yoongi down and complains that he’s hungry. Jungkook pushes past him saying he’s going to take all the snacks. Which causes Jin to pull him back so he could gain advantage to the snack table. Namjoon rolling his eyes at the two he walks alongside a stylist into the room. Her hand moved as she fanned him. Laughing at how people wish they were in stylists shoes working with their favorite idols.

“Aish, hurry up you two we have to get out of here quickly.” Hoseok passes by bopping you and Yoongi on the head. The two of you send him a glare due to the cute picture you were trying to take being ruined. A messy kiss was pressed to your cheek made Hoseok roll his eyes.

“Let’s retake it when we get back to the hotel okay?” Yoongi’s gummy smile greets the world as he smiles down at you. His hand taking yours and interlacing your fingers together. The two of you make your way down the hallway to join the others. People passed by with totes on carts. Equipment passed by in blurs as you all walked. The hallway loud as conversations filled it.

     Bodyguards surrounded groups sparsely as the group headed towards the parked van. The frustrating part was always that some girls try to attack the boys. Girls screaming their names for every second as you guys stopped by the van. You stepped out of the way to grab your bag you accidentally dropped off the curb. But there was a force that sent you flying forward into traffic. Looking to the left your vision turned into slow motion....

     The impact against the car shield made your body erupt in excruciating pain.  Everything happening in a blink of an eye and your body hit another car and slams onto the ground. Screaming ended followed by male screams filling the air. Ringing in your ears flared up as everything blurred around you. Blood filling your vision just as hands gently held your face. Suffering was the exact feeling you had and you wondered, how are you still alive?

“____, baby I- s-stay with me please… oh my god there’s so much blood I-” Yoongi was cut off by a voice making him furrow his eyebrows. Tears falling down his cheeks as he looked down at your body.

“Yoongi! What are you doing get out of the street right n-”

“My wife’s in the fucking street! I’m not moving.” he grits out gently placing your head on his lap. The warmth of his fingers feeling lovely against your cold skin. Soon enough you saw six other heads above you surrounding the two of you. From what you could see is the boys with their big jackets on and squatting around you. They were doing that so no one could see your body. And if you could cry, you would. His members really do the most.

“Yoongi Hyung, I called for help it should be soon” Jimin’s soft voice fills your ears. You could hear the worry in his voice as he spoke to Yoongi who was crying above you. Hoseok panicking from all the blood trys wiping blood dripping down your head. Namjoon tried stopping Taehyung from placing his sweater on you.

“I don’t care if it’s my Gucci sweater… I can just by another one. I want to help stop the bleeding” he explains as he pressed the expensive fabric against your bleeding body. His hands adding pressure causing you to wince. The pain that courses through your body makes you become woozier.

“I- I love you guys..” your voice coming out as a whimper as you laid there.

“Hey, don’t talk right now, save your energy” Jin weakly smiles down at you as he takes hold of your hand. The warmth comforting because your body felt cold. You could feel your body temperature dropping as you all waited.

“Alright, we need to take her now. We can’t fit all seven of you in but we can take someone” the emt informs the boys as they lift your body up. Yoongi tells them he’s your husband and that he’ll go with you. And all you remember before everything going black is Yoongi taking your hand in his.

[Yoongi’s POV]

“We have a problem”

“He hasn’t moved, can someone get Jin?”

“I’ll be back I think I just saw him pass by!”

“Yoongi”

“Yoongs”

“Cmon snap out of it”

“Yoongi!” the dull voice pierced my ears making me blink a couple of times. Jin Hyung was looking down at me with a worried expression. My heart empty as I stood there in my red shiny suit. Stylists were brushing my hair with their fingers to fix it.

“Jin Hyung, I’m breaking Jin… I don’t know what to do. not even the music is helping.” my voice wavering all because music always helped. Music is my go to for anything. The sight of my studio doesn’t give me joy anymore.

Jin lets out a heavy sigh and placing his hands on my shoulders “Hey now, it’s been a couple weeks… I’m sure the doctors are doing what they can! Army is out there, just do your best! ____ would want you to do your best.”

“Yoongi, you’re up next get in position.”

“I’m coming… thanks Hyung” I turn away and head towards the group standing by the wing.

“Yoongi, you can’t go see her… we need you for the rest of the tour...”

“What do you fucking mean? It’s a quick trip!” I shout angrily standing up from my once seated position. Hoseok tugs me back down but I yank my hand out of his. A hurt expression on his face from my action.

“It’s just a couple of more weeks and we’ll be back… She’s going to be transferred to home care so if she does wake up she can see her surroundings, your hom-”

“Yeah IF she wakes up… do you know how hard it is for me to SING and be HAPPY when my wife is in a fucking COMA?”

“Y-Yoongi cmon, you’re going to get through this… you have us. ” Hoseok places his arms around my shoulder. My sobs fill the room as Hoseok holds on to me. Moments passed and Namjoon asks to speak to them privately outside. The rest of the boys join Hoseok for the hug which felt like forever. More time passed as my crying came to an end. It was as if I ran out of tears to shed.

“Just a couple of months, you’ve got this hyung”

“We’re here for you no matter what..”

“Enjoy your time home Yoongi, Its amazing she woke up before the tour ended..” my escort bows slightly before leaving my home and back to the car. Leaving me at my home I haven’t seen in quite a while. Holly running right to me when I opened the door making me smile. Everything was calm till I heard footsteps coming down the staircase. Standing up I walk past the piano towards the staircase. A woman bows slightly before introducing herself as ____ ‘s care taker.

“I just want to warn you, she has slight am-”

     Ignoring the lady I run past her and bound up the stairs. Holly following me as I run into our bedroom. Only to find the bedroom empty and let out an exhausted sigh. Turning my body I take a seat on the bed and wonder how she must have felt. To wake up in a hospital after being asleep for so long.

“e-excuse me... who are you?” the voice I’ve yearned to hear makes my ears perk. My eyes look up to see the love of my life not holding a smile but fear. She doesn’t know who I am, and knowing that breaks me more and more..

Getting up slowly trying not to spook her I flash her a small smile. “U-uh hello, I’m Min Yoongi… I’m your husband” I explain bowing slightly. I feel so stupid for bowing because she’s my wife. Reaching behind my body I pull out my phone. Turning it around and show her the wedding photo I keep in the back of my phone at all times. The photo bringing me joy because I love her so much. It’s silly because she has the same photo in the back of her phone. She takes my phone from me looking at the photo intensely. Her eyebrows furrowing in the cute way I’ve know for the past five years of us being together. She takes her phone out of her pocket and holds the two devices side by side. A smile appearing on her face shortly after. 

“I guess that lady wasn’t wrong… there’s so many pictures of us around here including us with Holly... I’ve seen you a lot on tv because of tour? Melody told me you’re an idol and she showed me videos of you and your friends” her smile lights up as she looks over at a picture of the seven of us hanging up in the bedroom. She hands me back my phone with a soft smile before heading towards the dresser. Her back turned to me as she picks up something from a jewelry dish.

“I didn’t put this on because I thought I’d wait for the man who’s filled in this house to put it back on me.” turning around I see that she’s holding her wedding ring. The dim light catching the diamond making it gleam.

“You don’t remember me though…” my heart sinking as I lock eyes with her. It seems so foreign to me that she’s actually awake, talking and thankfully still breathing.

“I know I really don’t remember everything. I know in my heart you’re important to me… my heart is beating so fast as the sight of you. I know it’s going to take a long time till I remember… can you help me remember please?” she asks placing the ring in my hand. The warmth of her hands holding mine made my heart leap. I’ve longed this for so long.

Why am I hesitating?

Why is my anxiety pulling me away from her?

She’s been gone for so long, I can’t let my fear continue.

Grabbing the ring from my palm I take her hand in mine. Taking a deep breath I say “I will do whatever I can to get you to remember me and the love we have… I won’t give up because you are my everything ____.”

[japanstopbrawler1992]

READ ME

ZERO TOLERANCE FOR RACIST CHASERS/GAY-FOR-STRAIGHT-CONSUMPTION/OOC TRANSPHOBIA/ANY RACISM WHATSOEVER UNLESS SHOWN AS BAD BY NARRATIVE AND CONFINED TO AGREED UPON PLOTTING

I set Savers in its airing year, so Masaru was born in '92. Can take place anytime after episode 49. However, there just won't be any explicit sexual content regardless of when the thread takes place. I also don't auto-ship: I'm here to walk a character through things, so ships will all be more slow-burn. Also, while Masaru's just pan, I'm actually asexual, so don't even expect me to present beyond a textbook understanding of sexual attraction

Masaru's kind of a jerk. My other two muses are generally at least kind unless the other person isn't, but Masaru's kind of abrasive and gleefully violent. If we're playing, I'll probably warn you beforehand, but Masaru may snap at your muse if your muse isn't a little kid. If your muse didn't deserve it, he'll probably apologise at some point, but yeah, this muse is even less like me than 02's Ken (Bleach's Ichigo is my muse most like me)

I'm on mobile. Period. I can't cut threads. I usually just tag "long post." Can't cut threads.

Seen JP ver only. Haven't seen any others, and I have no reason to bother--the original's in my native. Why would I bother with "orange juice bomb"?

Masaru is mixed race here. In a planned project that's a sister project to my Bleach project I already got a bit of stuff up for, Masaru's mum is Japanese and Russian, and related to Junpei of Frontier, and Masaru's dad was Japanese and Afghani. Masaru actually does speak Japanese, Russian, and Persian.

Masaru's also trans here. He never got puberty blockers, but he finally got testosterone at 13. So his voice changed at a pretty normal age. But he does need a binder and all that. (He loved that black tank top he wears after the memory wipe because it was just the right cut to cover the binder while showing off his arm muscles!) He does someday want kids, and Japanese law, like most US states or most places, requires sterilisation to recognise gender change. His papers also say a different first name. Of course, this probably came up with Satuma. Satuma and payroll at DATS probably know all about it. But being trans isn't *as* hard in Japan as the Anglophonic world. Especially thanks to Kamikawa Aya advocating on outlets like NHK radio since '95, which Masaru would be three then.

I toss the epilogue. Don't like the losing their digimon, and Masaru ditching his family he feels so responsible for and his dad he just got back?

Actually, in my project, ep 48 never happens. Suguru is dead, DATS remains, and Sayuri gets BanchouLeomon as her digimon partner.

Oh, another rule--poor spelling and grammar is acceptable if you are not a native speaker. It infuriates me to no end that I'm supposed to be an idiot for being fluent in three just because English is not my first, but native speakers get to run around spelling "bins" "ben's" and congratulating themselves for "kohnichuwa" but I get beaten/decried for actually knowing the language... And also, ,ZERO TOLERANCE for "garnish my human default English with exotic Japanese uwu" See "zero tolerance for chasers and racism"

Totally available to play in Japanese or Spanish, but you must be fluent.

Masaru lives in Tobechou, Yokohama. I went to the Chinatown in Yokohama once with my dad, but I lived in Koube. And we didn't leave Hanshin region all that much. My knowledge of much outside there being a Chinatown in the '80s (obviously still there, as it was the setting for the Savers movie) and big landmarks like Minatomirai is minimal. I also haven't been back to Japan period since '94. My relatives there are all deceased since the '90s, and flights alone are 1,000$, which, until recently, was definitely over a month of rent. Two for a studio, one plus a couple hundred for a 1 or 2LDK, depending. Might even have had 1.5 baths. By the time Savers was airing in Japan, I was able to keep up with Japanese news via now-gone Japanese-language broadcasts in California, as well as the Web, which is also how I saw Savers. But my knowledge of Japanese things may run the risk of being almost 30 years out of date. Or it might be completely current because I still read Asahi News, the most left-leaning paper I can find. Unsure if related to Hanshin region channel 6, but channel 6 was the best when I was there.

The Daimon family didn't move when Masaru came out, but he came out pretty young. It's just difficult to get trans care for minors. That being said, most peers don't know he's trans. They do know he's mixed, though. That being said, it's not like it's *only* him fighting racist bullies. It's only partially that. Like I said, I fully acknowledge he's pretty abrasive. So he's not completely blameless for all the fights. He could easily someday be the kind of parent who gets arrested for punching a rival dad. Violence is not a last resort for him. It's the best resort.

I do multi-para and don't use icons. But I'm not asking for an exact word count match. All I ask is give me stuff to go off of in replies and for Heaven's sake, do *not* format like House of Leaves when you play with me. Format button abuse looks like a visual panic attack, and is just too chaotic for me to read.

I may go spotty on replies with you. I'll still chat with you via the messenger thingy, and I don't play with people I've never spoken to, even if I've started the interaction, because I need to filter for my sanity, so I need to know the people I play with aren't gonna pull racism or something on me, but when my replies slow, it's because I work on-call at a shelter for seriously physically ill people, I'm also disabled myself, and I don't have the ability to put enough energy for the high-quality replies I strive to give in at the moment. I'm stalling because I want to give you my best. If I want to drop a thread, which is admittedly rare, I'll let you know. I won't leave you guessing.

Some h/cs just for fun

Masaru loves metal. The metal I know is 70s prog and 80s glam metal and stuff. I don't really like much music past about '94, and exactly two albums after 2000 (neither are metal)

Masaru has always had the same kind of attention span I have now even though I completely didn't when I was younger. He's running commentary if you watch an movie with him, his biggest problem with school is the whole sitting and passively listening to a lecture part, he thinks he doesn't like reading because others always talk about sitting there and reading for hours on end (if he's older, he may have realised it's OK to read for 20-minute bursts, something I eventually realised, too). He only really learns by doing. That being said, depending on age, he may not have had the chance to *realise* that yet.

He wouldn't become a sumo wrestler, but he totally watches it. Honestly, any fighting sport, and he's there.

He's very Japanese as far as religion. Sort of takes part and believes in a lot of them at the same time, but none are a overly influential part of his life. This is a thing.

Crossovers with any season preceding Savers are pretty easy with this blog considering my project. The project will eventually merge with the Bleach project, toi, so I also have a thing for that. Overall, I welcome crossovers with most animated media. Live action, I'll consider if you don't use icons with me (it ends up looking like Who Framed Roger Rabbit in my head) I don't do any real person stuff beyond, say, having Masaru listen to real bands or know of other public figures.

There is also a flexibility in playing Masaru in other countries. He could visit family in Russia or Afghanistan, he can be sent over from DATS to help with digimon appearances in countries allied with Japan (coughcontroloverjapanliketheuscough) or I totally ship him with Touma, so he could be in whatever that country is (obviously a Germanic nation in Western Europe)

He's definitely leftist, but his tactics aren't really common among the left. Typically, it's the fascists that will throw the first punch. Except Masaru will, as well. Unfortunately, this means he can take *away* from, say, antifa efforts to counter demo anti-Korean rioters.

He looks down on most weapon use, but probably none more so than guns and other weapons that remove the user from the target. To him, anyone who hides safely behind a weapon and makes the fight so one-sided is a coward. To this extent, he thinks war should be done away with and the leaders of the countries should duel instead of America just wiping out thousands of Japanese (WWII) or Afghani (during his lifetime) civilians (well, in that war, it was definitely not the Afghani government's fault, as that was a radical rebel sect powered initially by Regean, but it was most certainly civilian deaths en masse)

Masaru cannot meditate at all. He's also very reactive. To that extent, he's never really done well with martial arts. There's a lot less focus on self-discipline in boxing and wrestling than in Aikido or karate or what have you. He'd probably love the intensity of Krav Maga or CQC. I just don't know if Krav Maga has a self-discipline component. CQC almost certainly doesn't--it's American.

More when I think of it.

[sweettaylormd-blog]

“Did I ruin things? Was it even me? Isn’t it always me? Was there even something there to ruin?”

It was a dark, rainy Monday morning as X sat at her desk and pondered these questions. Was there something wrong with her? Was she the one to subconsciously push everyone away because she feared commitment? Or did she just get involved with men whose plans didn’t align with hers?

She sat at her desk, tapping, fidgeting, checking her phone… Doing anything but work. She was distracted, distant, and confused. The anxiety crept in with her leg bouncing up and down, the pit in her stomach, and her inability to focus. She has been living the last few weeks on autopilot. Moving very quickly, surrounding herself with people and substances, and not taking a minute to process. But here she is, alone on a Monday morning, forcing herself to feel what she’s been trying to numb. The act of healing is a lonely one.

She had an innumerable amount of questions to ask herself, to ask him, to ask the universe. She was hell bent on getting answers but, first, she needed to figure out the questions.

She was never the type to harp on an old subject. She was accustomed to moving on very quickly in all aspects. Her life was a pattern of picking up a new toy, becoming excited, gradually getting bored, letting it go and finding something new to occupy her time. Very few things had the ability to hold her attention. She liked options, she liked freedom, she liked not being locked into one specific thing. She was extremely loyal to everyone in her life, she just feared attaching herself to something or someone else. She has given the same advice to her friends, her coworkers, or drunk girls at a random bar about to text their ex; and that is: “You must belong to no one but yourself.” She believed in that statement wholeheartedly and has stuck to it intensely over the last decade.

That’s why she was in a state of uncertainty when it came to him. She felt herself letting him in to so many dimensions of her life, ones that have been closed off for so long, but it came so natural. She was always reserved, closed off, aloof. She made herself available to know the darkest secrets of so many people, but hardly ever shared hers. She liked it that way. But he came along unexpectedly, and, with a minimal amount of time, had her opening up in more ways than one. Something about it just felt right, and that’s what scared her.

She felt the distance creeping in long before they discussed it. She felt the chill, the sudden change of wind. A woman always knows. She felt herself becoming a part of the past. A part of her is no longer alive - no longer alive in the life of someone. There was a lot of space. And she’s filled that space with things and people. But you can’t put a door in place of a dam and contain the river. And you can’t substitute salt for sugar and enjoy the cake. Some things are not meant to be replaced, they are just meant to be enjoyed while they last.

It’s not him, she thought, it’s the hurt that lingers in his wake. It’s the unresolved emotions that are erupting inside of her. It’s the past that she tried to bury pushing its way to the surface. She knows that this has nothing to do with him, and she doesn’t want that to become misconstrued. This has nothing to do with him. She knows that someone could never hold that much power over her. She knows that he never meant any harm.

There was one thing she knew for sure, and it was that the connection they shared was real, it was undeniable. They each could have perceived it differently, of course, and they did, but there was a powerful force of energy that was shared. One in which she doesn’t believe they’ll find in anyone else. The spiritual side of her would like to think they’ll always be connected in some way, regardless of which paths they choose to take.

She heard he was seeing someone new. Her gut feeling, coupled with the source, made her believe that this time it wasn’t a string of lies that she was used to being fed.

He assumed he was in a space to move on. It was inevitable for both of them.

Her mind wanders.

“Was there even anything to move on from?”

She had created this idea in her mind that was not parallel with his reality. They were going through the same motions, same conversations, same interactions; but the meaning behind all of it was completely different to both of them.

She sat with this information for a while, she dove deep into the depths of what she thought it meant. Until she realized that it has nothing to do with her – just like her issues have nothing to do with him. They are living the lives they have created, lives that are an aftershock of experiences and people and places who came before them. Unique experiences and perceptions alter one’s reality.

She couldn’t fault him for moving on, whatever that meant, because the idea crossed her mind and she unintentionally explored it. Someone unforeseen had kissed her, and while she didn’t initiate or expect it, she didn’t back away. She leaned forward, locking lips with this man, and felt nothing. It left a bitter taste in her mouth for days to follow. She knew she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to let go of the past, to let someone in, or to care. She wasn’t ready to fall into the same patterns that have preceded this one. She has played this game for far too long, different opponents and all, and she knew exactly how it ended.

She used to view love as a game. A game in which someone has the upper hand, where it’s a constant back-and-forth competition. She doesn’t think she has ever been in love, in fact, she knows she hasn’t. Being in love is unfamiliar to her, but the idea of love is definitely not. She feels deeply, she experiences life very passionately, she loves with her entire heart. And, proving her point again, it’s not about being in love with another person. This has nothing to do with anyone but herself. Her passion, her emotions, her strength, her love – has everything to do with her loving herself and the life she’s creating. She romanticizes the world around her so deeply with her rose colored glasses. She knows that the life she wants is reachable and she doesn’t underestimate her power to grab hold of everything she wants.

She has always been this confident and secure. It’s rooted deep in her core. She knows every inch of herself, every dark corner, every bit of light. She’s a project that she’s been working on for decades. She became infatuated with learning about her behaviors, diving into her trauma, pulling everything to the surface and navigating how to become better. That’s why his words were a punch in the gut, almost like he didn’t realize how forceful, how powerful, how divine her energy was.

He said, “I don’t want to sour you.”

Sour.

Sour.

Sour

The intentions of that sentence were pure, there was no doubt about that, but he knew her better than to think anything could shake the solid foundation she spent years building.

But sour wasn’t unfamiliar to her. It was sewn into her past. She experienced the highs that tasted as sweet as the first lick of your favorite ice cream on a hot summer day, but that usually came with an aftershock that left an acidic taste in her mouth. It was sharp, it was powerful, it was painful. It was sour.

She knew sour like the back of her hand. She knew the discomfort, she knew the uneasiness, she knew the grief. Oh, she knew sour. She took it in, she grappled with it, she learned every part of it, but she never let it change her.

“You must belong to no one but yourself.”

She remained optimistic, she remained whole and complete, she remained pure despite the poison that she was usually left with.

And that was never going to change.

But this was different. He was different. There was no poison. There was no bitter taste. Sour didn’t exist here. He did nothing hurtful, nor did she. This is the first time a situation has ended, or changed, rather, where there is no resentment or anger. No hostile actions fueled by animosity and rage that one would come to later regret. It was calm. It was two people coming to a mutual understanding while still keeping a solid friendship intact. The people looking in from the outside were much more toxic than the two of them. But they weren’t the type to entertain the drama of people beneath them. She was figuring out how to continue on this changed path. The adoration for this person was still there, it just had to be executed in a different manner. She had asked for honesty and respect, and he showed her both of those things in tremendous depths. They were both very honest but yet very sensitive with their approach to one another. Anyone could sense that they could never be malicious toward each other. She had always known that not everyone will reciprocate your exact energy, and she was okay with that as long as it’s done respectfully; and in the case of these two people, there was never anything less.

She has been toying with the idea of questions and answers, as if she could ever get an answer that she would be satisfied with. How can she heal from an answer given by a person whose perception was different? She once heard you must respect the time it takes to heal. Respect. Not acknowledge, not understand, but respect. And so, as if there were ever an alternative, she will lay herself at the mercy of time, it’s cruelty only appearing in the form of the inevitable, but its tenderness bearing all possibilities. And, while she just spent hours writing about how she came to terms with the actions of other people having little to nothing to do with her, the answer to that undefeatable, reoccurring question of “is it me?” is yes. She is unapologetically the center of her world, so, yes, this is all about her. It’s about her ability to understand, and respect, the different viewpoints of others. It’s about how she gracefully takes each experience and applies it to the world around her. It’s about how she can use these lessons to impact the next wave of people she will surround herself with. It’s about taking the broken glass and making art. It’s about solving the riddles of life.

Because she’s smart enough to know things run their course and eventually the earth tilts,

and seasons change,

and new life grows.

And that all of this only ever existed in her head.

[sumisuchan]

La Reine de L’Ennui Ch.3

Yellow sat in her control room, drumming one set of fingers against her arm rest as she typed with the other, stopping only occasionally to look elsewhere. During those short seconds, she would typically stare into the galaxies displayed outside her window, taking in each of those milky stars arranged into sparkling bodies.

Late into the night, she called Blue Diamond.

The immediate area around Yellow’s throne filled with oppositely colored light as the vision of the other empress came into view. Blue stood inside her chambers and had even come to answer the call herself.

“Good evening, Yellow.” The dark bags beneath her eyes appeared worse than normal. “I was just thinking of you. It’s funny that you would call.”

“Interesting, I’m curious to know if we had the same thing in mind. Would you like to come over? I should be done here soon.”

“Certainly. Should I meet you in your chambers?”

“That would be perfect. I’ll see you shortly.”

“See you soon.”

Yellow hung up and went back to work, so she could go straight home a little while later.

Time dragged on, even though Yellow didn’t actually wait that long. About three-fourths of her focus went to her work, while the other twenty-five percent considered everything else. Sexual thoughts cut in. Images of white and blue breasts appeared, as did photographs of plump, crying lips and soaking pussies. They came to make her high before her clarity banished them. Yellow worked faster than usual, and when she finally escaped, she walked faster than usual too.

Upon approaching, the Pearls informed her that Blue Diamond had come and awaited her in the main room.  

Yellow Diamond emerged from the open doors.

“Hello, Yellow.” Blue sat on the sofa, shimmering in the dull light coming from the fireplace. Its owner never asked for its ignition, but the Pearls tended to listen to all of the Diamonds.

“Hello, Blue.” Golden eyes clung to azure curves shaded in the soft light. Blue, much like White Diamond, had intense hips, smooth skin, and large, supple breasts. Although, much like everything else, White’s were bigger. That night, Blue had come wearing something like a nightgown—still elegant enough to be seen outside, but looser than her regular clothing. Beneath it, Yellow witnessed each of her contours, the round, the soft, and the occasionally angular.

“I was a little surprised that you called me here. It seemed like you might be too tired from work to have any guests.”

“You should know by now that I never get tired.”

Blue made a humorous grin, “Oh please.” Then she looked into the flames.

Yellow took a spot next to her on the two-story-tall sofa and kissed Blue’s cheek. One of her slender arms settled on her visitor’s shoulder and both of them sat for a moment, just like that.

“Do you need anything to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.” Blue leaned over to tuck herself into Yellow’s free spaces and relax inside them. Her long lashes brushed against the golden queen’s face.

“What was it like, when you made love with Pink?”

Blue drew in a sharp breath. “Amazing. We would make love for what felt like days; it went on and on. She loved kissing and had so much energy, but I never felt overwhelmed by her. I remember her being warm. It was nice.” She came even closer. Her hand ended up on Yellow’s leg. “You’re warm too. Actually…” She took a moment to mull over her words. “You’re both similar in a lot of ways. What made you ask?”

“I was just curious what it was like for you. I remember how you two used to disappear. How did you ever get anything done?”

“There was less work then, with more Diamonds and fewer colonies. Don’t you recall?”

She didn’t.

“Well, you’ve always put in long hours, haven’t you? That’s something I envy about you. I’m sure you must sometimes get tired, but you get so much done, Yellow.”

“If I do get tired, it’s not something I think about.”

“That’s not good.”

Yellow pushed their mouths together. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

And Blue phased off her gown.

Their sex almost always followed a particular order. That night, it began with the long kissing that, without fail, managed to swell both of their tongues. Even just making out, Blue tended to moan gently into Yellow’s mouth. She couldn’t make the same sounds White could, nor could she hold on as tightly, but she came close. Sometimes they would break apart so the sad ocean queen could catch her breath, but they never stayed separated long.

Next, Yellow usually pushed Blue backward onto the sofa, or pillow, or one time, even the floor, with an exact amount of force. It should never hurt her, but “surprise” her, and the kissing would normally continue from there. At some point, Yellow would break contact so she could fix her lips against Blue’s jaw, her neck, her pretty breasts, her nipples, her stomach, and finally, her vagina.

At this point, Blue would be incredibly wet. Yellow always stroked through her pretty white hair and part her lips to find her clitoris. She lapped it up slowly with circular motions and light sucking once every minute for approximately seven seconds.

Whenever Blue came she would release a few tears, but manage to pull herself together to return the favor. With her eyes shut and her pretty lashes brushing against Yellow’s skin, she would lick, suck, finger, and occasionally bite Yellow to paradise. The golden queen would huff and puff the entire time, moaning Blue’s name.

“Fuck!” Her toes curled and her back arched as her lover’s tongue smoothed over her clit. Guaranteed, her hand would weave itself into Blue’s soft, perfect hair, and guaranteed, she would keep herself from balling up her fist and pulling.

“Blue, fuck! I’m—” Yellow would grunt and groan and glitter in the heat of her orgasm and Blue would always stop to embrace her. Inevitably, her hands would reach right for those small breasts, which she played with during cunnilingus as well.

After they had licked and sucked on and touched one another, Yellow would take her. That night, she took Blue right there on the sofa. The golden queen mounted the azure one, using her trusty toy. With Blue’s legs wrapped around her waist, Yellow thrust in deeply and slowly to draw out her soft cries. Sometimes Blue’s long lashes would part, only slightly, but she never looked Yellow in the eyes.  

She would drop her thin, beautiful brows and open her chubby lips. Barely touched, the fire overcame her as her body responded to Yellow’s movement.

The golden queen pushed in far enough so she could lean forward and taste those azure lips. Blue loosened her legs to hold Yellow with her arms and the slow, long thrusts continued.

Blue came with her tongue in Yellow’s mouth and her lids clamped shut. Both of them made out and held one another.

“Yellow…”

The sunshine queen kissed her lover’s neck.

“Oh, Yellow—”

And then between her breasts, just beneath her gem. “Let me clean up, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay.”

Blue usually cried at this point. The first time it happened, Yellow frowned and asked why she could possibly be weeping, but those two only ever coupled after Pink had died. Yellow never bothered to question her tears again, nor did she attempt to stop them. She couldn’t, and every word they shared about Pink just brought out more.

Yellow caught her in the mirror of the washroom, wiping her eyes and staring into the flames.

Before she could return, Blue called her name and came slowly to the door.  

“Yes?”

“I think I’m going to head back, if you don’t mind.”

“Alright.” Yellow looked over her shoulder to find Blue wearing a puzzled expression. “What is it?”

“Your back—” She touched delicately the scratches drawn into Yellow’s flesh.

The only thing the golden queen could say was: “What?” as she turned away from Blue to put her day-old markings in the mirror and feign confusion. “Oh, those—”

“I’m sorry.” A single tear fell from one of her sad eyes. “I didn’t mean to mark you. I didn’t even realize I had done that. It was so intense…”

“I didn’t notice.” Yellow took the water from her cheek. “You didn’t hurt me anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

Blue looked away a moment, worrying about it. “Well, before I go, I wanted to ask you what you’re getting White for her 50,000th.”

Yellow dropped her hand. “Her what?”

“Did you forget? It’s coming up soon.”

“Is it really?”  

“Yes.” Blue held back a laugh. “I don’t think she likes talking about it, but all of her gems are going to come and wish her well. I intend on giving her a planet I found.”

“You’re going to give her a planet?”  

“50,000 is a big deal, Yellow.”

The golden queen furrowed her brows.

“I know. It’s hard to pick something out for someone who has everything.” Blue kissed Yellow’s cheek. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t getting her the same thing, but I see I didn’t need to worry.” She put her clothing back on, and squeezed Yellow’s hand for a second. “I’ll see you later. Thank you for having me.”

“Of course, Blue.”

The ocean queen went away and Yellow stared deep into her own reflection—specifically at the bags beneath her eyes that grew as intense as Blue’s in only a moment’s time.

Her adrenaline settled and she put her toy away.    

[burndownthehousetonight]

((One more RP I did recently with @oxidethehedgehog. I have to admit, I knew nothing about the 70s british punk scene, so this is the first time I’ve done extensive research for the sake of one of these RPs. It was actually a really interesting RP to work on! Hope y’all enjoy!))

It was 1976. Mobius was going through a phase where all the colors were grey, brown, orange and mustard, everyone listened to the same shit, everyone either worked a dead end job or was on strike. And all the kids would go to school to do the exact same thing that their parents are doing.

In one school, there was an orange hedgehog with blonde hair. He was waiting for the teacher to arrive. And waiting. It wasn't a rich area, and the schools tended to suffer. Some teachers couldn't be bothered to show up, and many students didn't either. So one Collins, sometimes going by his surname 'Collins', waited in vain as they sat around, waiting for her to arrive. "They still on strike?" Some girl in the back row asked one of her friends. Even for the poor schools, this one had particularly non-caring staff. Some teachers would leave on strike daily, some would just go whenever they felt, and most carried on like nothing had changed. And judging by how Collins's neon green friend actually brought blank sheet music to class, he was trying to find some way to keep himself occupied. "Oh hey Manic, whats with the sheet music mate?" He asked, looking at the blank paper that was covered in lines in an orderly fashion. The bars were occasionally covered in a few normal seeming notes, but for the most part, it looked like the triangles and xs of percussion notation. "Hey, you remember how I said I had some real good idea for drum parts yesterday?" Manic said, poking the paper impatiently. "Guess who forgot it by the time I got home? Can't remember this crap to save my life." "Haha, hey, you wanna split? Fuckin' wanker of a teacher ain't comin' bye, probably protestin' about how shitty it is to deal with kids like us." Collins laughed again, getting up from his seat. "What, would YOU wanna deal with me, either?" He teased, standing up. She never showed up for their last period, anyways. "Besides, I'm not getting any good ideas." He hastily grabbed his paper and pencil, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. There were only three or four other kids they ran into in the halls, but it was clear that the idea to skip an empty class wasn't unique. "Man, you think they're even gonna have enough teachers to keep this dump running until break? Even this crappy shirt isn't half as beat up as this place." All of Manic's clothes were crappy, but even he couldn't ignore the large hole in his sleeve. Not that he hadn't tried. Collins had safety pins that were holding the left sleeve of his striped long sleeve shirt together, with a giant hole in the left pant leg of his blue denims. He already looked like a punk, but he barely knew what that was. "Oh yah, and dude, there's this band playing that one of my friends told me was gonna be awesome and that we should check it out. It's 2 pounds to get in, you wanna come?" he asked, walking out of the building. "Two pounds? Uh... Yeah, I can probably get that much, sure." Manic searched his pockets to try and see if he had enough on hand. He stopped to look up at Collins and grimace. "This ain't the same friend that told you that country doo-wop-y band was gonna be good, was it?" He shuddered at the memories. The ten minutes they bothered to stay for were agony. "Nah man, I fuckin' got rid of that asshole long ago. Its another band called the Sex pistols, along with the Damned and The Clash." Collins smirked, they sounded really atrocious for the time, very vulgar. Manic seemed surprised. "I mean- Alright." He seemed to be in disbelief. "That's not what I expected to hear, but I guess I'm down. You got any idea what kind of-" Manic stopped himself from finishing his sentence. "Nah, don't tell me, I want to be surprised. So what, that usual bar we go to? Nine o'clock, usual time?" "Nah, its at 6PM, and it's at a place called the 100 club." Collins and Manic walked to Collins's house where he dropped his stuff off and told his mom that he was gonna go to a concert. She seemed ok with it, and Collins and Manic were off again. And that's just how most of their afternoons started. It was always the two of them walking together, always to Collins's house, and usually after skipping out of study hall early. It was strangely normal, but hell, it worked for them. Even if they loved going on stupid adventures through the city, they didn't mind the regularity. Of course, their evening was going to be nothing but regular. They would realize this as they started to reach the club they were going to. This was not usual. They places near Collins's house were usually cleaned up, but this felt weirdly dirty. The people walking around seemed slightly on edge, slightly off. It didn't feel like this place was right, somehow. "You sure this is the place?" "Yah, cause there's Logan right there." Collins pointed to the short 13 year old cyan blue hedgehog who was waiting outside of the club. Inside, they could hear a band doing soundcheck. It was out of tune, out of key, loud fast and raw. "Holy shit, they sound like Iggy and the stooges on PCP." Collins said amazed, it sounded amazing in there, so Collins, Logan and Manic went in and paid their way in. This was clearly a place children shouldn't have been allowed in. It was a good thing they were teenagers, and therefore much more responsible. It was just like a lot of the show venues they ended up at, although with the same vague filthiness that the streets outside shared. Collins certainly seemed into it, and that blue friend of his wasn't complaining. Manic wasn't too sure yet. It was definitely powerful, and it was definitely new to him. But would they back up power with good composition, or would it be power without substance? He shook off his doubts. He was never this nevative about bands. "That's like... Well, it's definitely new." Manic laughed. "So what are you thinking? They gonna be your new favorite band of the week?" "Haha very funny...." Collins rolled his eyes. Soon, the real deal. The first band was The damned, and they were amazing. People were jumping up and down, shaking the heads about as they spat at the people on stage. Manic wasn't expecting the way they played. This was definitely rock, but not any kind of rock he was used to. These lyrics were strangely blunt, vulgar, the kind of thing he would have never expected to hear on any kind of radio station. And he had no idea if he was liking it. It was intense, and it was very new to him, but that was also the problem. Was the novelty all he enjoyed? The style was new, and he hadn't heard enough to get a gauge of what 'good' meant for this genre. Was it just a subset of rock he would enjoy, or just a gimmick? Manic felt like he had to take all kinds of new music seriously. Collins clearly wasn't thinking about this kind of thing even a little. Collins was at the front of the stage, gobbing at the band as well as he pogoed to the music. "I got a new rose I got it good Yes I knew that always would I can't stop to mess around I got a brand new rose in town!" The singer was dressed in very goth like attire, with his face very pale and black eye liner applied too. Gimmick. That's all Manic could think about this genre once he started to pay attention to the musicians. Hell, to the crowds, too. This must have been one of those subcultures that was fully developed and yet never extended beyond the tiny reach it had. And yet, it was a gimmick Manic was liking. Yes, he wanted to pretend like he wasn't going to fall for a trend, but he definitely liked the general sound. Even if he didn't understand the spitting or all the dark colors, he was liking it. He slowly gave way to the beat, dancing along and letting loose to the melodies. Even so, he still was nowhere near as immediately invested as Collins seemed to be, but he wasn't going to mock him. The next band came on; The clash, who were much more politically aware. The audience kept gobbing as they pogoed and the band kept playing. The night felt rapid fire. Song after song, note after note. Somehow, every note drew attention to itself, but the songs still felt like they were speeding by. Sure, most shows they went to sped by, but this night felt different. Manic was excited and energized, yet completely confused by how he was feeling. He definitely wasn't complaining, though. Hell, he was loving the show. He didn't want to stop dancing, even as songs drew to a close, and even as yet another band came on stage in more explicitly gimmicky clothing. Manic didn't want to admit he was a sucker for a good gimmick, but he was. And he never wanted the show to end, but it had to eventually. The final band, the sex pistols, were the best of them all. They blazed through a half hour of pure energy and speed, the lead singer looked like he was on acid at the moment. And Manic loved every second. He gave in to the weird uniqueness of the music, the straightforward fury of eveyr syllable. It was entrancing. And when the final notes played, Manic didn't want it to end. It felt like the aftermath of some disaster. He was confused about what he was supposed to do next. When he finally found his way to Collins, he was still visibly shocked. "Dude, that was... Wow. What WAS that?!" He was grinning through his dazed excitement. "I know, that was fucking amazing!" Collin said excitedly. "Hey, more punk bands play here every week, so don't blow your load just yet, guys." One punker said from behind them. Collin and Logan laughed. "We'll be here!" Manic said, before turning towards Collins and Collins's friend. "I'm still not over that whole- Wow." It was all he could say. Although the work punk wasn't new to him, he'd never really learned what it meant. He'd heard that it was awful, or mindless, or any negative adjective people could seem to think to throw at it. Even Sonic, when they even spoke, didn't seem to like it. If he'd known it was supposed to be a punk band, he wouldn't have agreed to come along. He also would have noticed the slightly naff dress. It wasn't beige or earthy tones, but rich, dark shades of black. It was a kind of bold Manic was enjoying, especially against the kinds of stuff he normally saw people wearing. "God, my ears are still ringing! How'd you here about this place, uh..." He motioned towards Collin's cyan friend. "Logan, right?" "I was just walking about and found it out, bands called Chelsea and The Stranglers were playing." He shrugged. "Pretty alright." He smirked. "......You guys wanna form a band?" Collins asked, looking at Manic then Logan. Manic was caught off-guard for a variety of reasons. "Hey, I mean... I mean, I'd love to, but I ain't exactly perfect on drums, dude." He could see that Collins wasn't deterred. "Hey, you ever wanna jam with me, uh... I mean, I could try and lead in some electricity?" He scratched the back of his head. "I have this practice space, but it doesn't have electricity." He grinned, not too certain but still amused by the idea. "I know a place where we can nab a mini generator and some amps." Logan pitched in. "I got a bass guitar, and I know Collin's parents have an old electric guitar. But we need amps..." "I thought you said we could nab some wherever you could get the generator? No, wait, you meant more, right?" Manic thought for a moment. "Maybe we could life one from- Nah, the school's pretty much bankrupt already. I think I could nab one from-" He didn't want to tell them that he was an amateur thief, so he stopped himself from telling the truth about that hippie guy four doors down from his place. "I think this guy near my place is trying to get rid of one, I could get it from him. If you get those other ones, you think that'll be enough?" "Yah sure, and I bet the school's ought to have somethin' mate. Me and Logan will go check." Collins said. "Yah man, theres a nice lookin' generator in the storage room, don't ask me what I was doin' in there...." Logan quickly said. "So what do you guys wanna do now?" Collins asked "You know I never do anything," Manic joked. "I was just gonna go to my place and see if I could grab that amp. I mean..." The sky was already dark. How long had the show been? "I guess we've still got school tomorrow. We could try messing around with writing music, if you want. Just crash at your place?" He had a tenancy to hang out at Collins's house and end up falling asleep. "Yah sure, hey Logan, you coming?" he asked him. "Nah, sorry mate, gotta go back to me mums or else she'll flip her fuckin' lid." He laughed, knowing his mom hated how he's always out late at night It was a longer walk to Collins's house than usual - most of the clubs they would visit were much closer. They waved off Logan midway through the walk, eventually coming up on Collins's house. It was definitely a poor neighborhood, but Collins's part of town was a bit wealthier than most. They threw the door open, ending up in Collins's room, and Manic opened his backpack. He pulled out the sheets of staff paper, Collins went to get the old electric guitar, and the two played out melodies on acoustic and wrote down anything that sounded good. Anything that sounded loud, absolutely anything they liked whatsoever. Maybe it did start as some offhanded project he wasn't too keen on, but Manic was slowly getting into it. Way further into it than he expected he would. They laid down scribbling ideas for lyrics, band names, anything they could think of for hours on end. "Hold on, how are these for lyrics? Ahem.... You find it hard to move as the poison seeps in You find it hard to breathe as you begin to give in You stare at the door, your only way to escape You pound on the door, the locks, they don't break You find yourself gagging, take in your last breaths Your body crumbles, you feel yourself enclosed by death Your life flashes before your own eyes! You see all the happy memories before you die The soldiers come in, clear the bodies out The bodies litter the floor, more than they can count The drag them into the pit, poured with gasoline! They watch the bodies burn, with a heavy black smoke screen" Collins played the same 3 chords over and over for the versus, but for the chorus, he played the same 2 chords over and over Manic's opinions on lyrics would change dramatically over the years, and in time, he would nitpick details here and there. But for something he was hearing for the first time, it was impressive, especially given that Collins seemed to be making it up as he went. Manic scribbled down the lyrics as fast as he could, hastily leaving the lyrics vaguely legibly in the margins. He couldn't write guitar chords, though, but Collins didn't seem to care. "Dude, you sure you haven't written music before?" Manic said, thrilled with their sudden lyrics. "Yeah, dude, that's awesome! I thought we'd mostly be doing covers, or something, but- Awesome!" They had vague ideas for backing and absolutely nothing else for this song, and they didn't care one bit. They were actually writing a song. They weren't just talking about it, it was actually happening. Song after song, lyric after lyric, they kept composing and composing, until their bodies were too tired and they fell asleep on the floor. By the time they woke up, they realized just how many sheets of paper they'd thrown around in their attempts to compose... and had maybe three sets of lyrics finished out of all their work, tops. "Man, so like, are we actually doing this?" He said, collecting the papers as they slipped into conciousness and read over what they'd come up with the previous night. "I guess so." Collins shrugged. "Hey, wanna skip out on school and get some amps? Logan can get the generator." He smirked, really excited on doing this. "It ain't like anything's happening this week anyways." Manic added. "Uh- Actually, you mind if I get that hippy guy's amp myself? We could cover more ground." Rather, he still hadn't told Collins exactly how he planned to get his amp. "Meet you back here, like, an hour?" "Yah sure." Collins got up, grabbed his backpack and went down to the nearest guitar shop. He went in with a resume. He handed the guy the application and the guy went into the back of the room to get him a piece of paper to sign so he could work there. He went to an amplifier, took it, and grabbed a chord. He then walked out just like that. Manic, of course, didn't know that Collins was a thief. It was just coincidence that the two thieves in their class hung out. Manic's plan was simple. He just pulled a set of lockpicks out from their hiding place in his quills, and walked right in and out. This wasn't Manic's first time in this area. It was a beaten-up old thing, but he was careful to make sure he didn't go down any streets where he was liable to get mugged. And in a half hours time, he ended up back at Collins's house. He waited out front... and waited. He kept reading over what they came up with, looking for any lyrics he would change, any notes that seemed off. That's what he'd say, anyways. He simply loved their amateur lyrics and melodies, and wanted to keep reading over their creations. Collins came by, with an amp and chord. "Do you have a drum kit?" Collins asked, looking at him Manic scoffed. "Dude, drumming is my LIFE. I've got a whole practice space and everything!" He looked a bit sheepishly to the side. "I mean, it's not that cool. It's just like, this tiny old building in a bad part of town no one cares about. But like, yeah, no one ever bothers me there. It's just a big, empty room with drums and nothing else. Wanna check it out?" "Hell yah, and after that, I'll go find Logan." He said, walking with Manic to his practice space. When they got there, it looked exactly like he described it as. Empty, besides the drum kit and kind of dull, but perfect. "Alright, just put it down over- Actually, that's perfect," Manic said, putting down the amp he was carrying near the back entrance. The front door was all nailed and screwed shut so no one could ever enter from the street. The only open door into this decayed space was a back door that was locked with a small padlock. Manic was the only one with the key, it seemed. The small space must have been a shop of some kind, but with all furniture and shelves removed, they could only guess. "Hey, Collins, don't tell anyone about this place, alright? Logan's fine, but make sure you don't say a word. I can't really get this think out of here." He patted one of the drums with his hand. "Alright, sure." He smiled, plugging his guitar into amp before running off to go find Logan. An hour later, he returned, along with the generator and Logan's bass. "Alright, lets fucking do this!" He yelled, jumping into the air. "Yeah!" Manic shouted, starting the generator and hooking it up to the guitar and bass. Manic rushed back to his drums- "Uh... where are we going to start from, anyways?" They had no idea, so they just started playing. The three desperately tried to find harmonies between whatever notes they'd end up making, looking for any patterns. They all but ignored what they wrote that previous night, instead improvising and hoping to come up with something. It was less than amateur, and if anyone had heard them play, it would have sounded terrible. But the three were in heaven, finding things to like about their performance. They knew they would probably hate everything they played at their first recital in a few months, but they didn't care. It was perfect to them, and that's all that mattered. "Alright hold on, lemme write on the tab for this." He said, grabbing a piece of paper and writing out the guitar and bass tab Manic opened his own bag, handing some blank sheet music and a pencil to Collins. His hand fidgeted impatiently, desperate to get back to drumming. "Man, I haven't jammed with someone else ever. This is awesome!" There was a rush of excitement in Manic's mind that was quickly taking over. Collins gave a copy to Logan and Manic. "Just make something up over this." He said towards Manic. "Oh and guys, call me Napalm from now on...." 'Napalm' said, who used to be Logan. "Heh, alright." Manic didn't see any reason to complain. He seemed to be much more immediately invested in this scene than Manic was. The two looked over the chords Collins scribbled out, listening carefully as Collins started playing. Napalm's playing joined in soon after, not a great harmony, but perfectly acceptable. Manic spun his drumsticks in his hand, and tried to come up with a pattern. Manic was a talented drummer, a passionate drummer. But he wasn't great at coming up with harmonies on the spot. They mostly repeated the same sounds together as Manic kept trying to come up with some kind of sound that seemed good to him, without being too generic. But with enough patience, he ended on a high-hat heavy pattern. Again, amateur, but still acceptable. Compared to what the three had already come up with? They thought it was perfect. They played for hours upon hours, until it was 8PM. They stopped and ended up having to go home, they had played these songs to the point of which they didn't need sheet music anymore and could play them decently well without it. "Hey, guys, thanks for hanging." Manic said as the three left their practice building. "I've got no idea what we're doing... I love it." Napalm and Manic split off onto their own walks home early on, leaving Collins to stroll home on his own. But then something fell out of his backpack - a piece of sheet music, written and drawn in Manic's handwriting. When did he even put it in there? At the top of the page was one short line; "You ever wanna hang out and jam or compose or whatever like last night, just let me know" He smirked, stuffed it into his back pack and went home. The next morning was a Saturday, so he got up and walked to the 100 club. He then looked around for the owner. He came out 30 minutes later and ran to Manic's house. He'd never actually been to Manic's house. But Manic did say it was down the street from some coffee shop. But the road from that coffee shop was very long, and branched through several neighborhoods. He also said it was on the same street as some old publishing house. Again, a long street, but this one didn't intersect with the other street. It seemed at least one of those statements was a lie. But there was one place he thought Manic might be, and sure enough, he could hear the faint sound of Manic pounding away at the drums as he approached their practice space. Collins burst through the door. "DUDE! I GOT US A GIG!" He screamed out at Manic who was on the drums. Logan happened to be there as well. "Wait what?!" Napalm asked. "Collins are you fucking nuts?" "Dude, wait, hold on!" Manic stood up, seemingly surprised. "I mean, I'd like to, but we don't have any songs! We don't have a band name, we don't have nothing!" He brushed back at his bizarre quill style. "Dude, it's way too soon to try and play a gig, we need to actually form our band first!" "What were we just doing yesterday then? We played like 7 different songs, and besides, we do have a name, well for now." He then laid down a poster that showed the bill. It read: The Clash The Vibrators 999 The Slits and The Amphetamines "We're called the Amphetamines." Manic pushed his hair back nervously. "Dude, like, we gotta make sure we're READY to play before we do a gig!" He suddenly realized what he said. "I'm not saying we're bad, I'm saying we've gotta make sure we're gonna be good on stage! Napalm, what're you thinking?" "When is it?" Napalm asked. "In 2 days." Collins said. ".....We got this...." Napalm said with a smirk as he plugged in his bass. "If we practice that is," he added. "This is a terrible idea." Manic smiled at his comment. "Let's do this." It didn't take long for Collins to grab his guitar and the three to start playing away. Even if they were having their fun, a band just barely coming together like this was always going to have its bumps. "Hey, like, you think we could all get a chance to sing?" Manic pointed his thumb at himself as they paused during some cover they were trying to work on. "You know I'm a good singer, too, and I dunno if Napalm's up for it or not, but like, you're already lead guitar. Just spread the attention, you know?" "Sure." Collins then turned to Napalm, who shook his head. "Alright, here." Collins handed him some lyrics for a song they were working on. "Oh, and call me Oxide from now on too" Collins said, who was now Oxide. "What, we all getting weird fake names now?" Manic joked at 'Oxide', not exactly complaining. "Let's get this mess going!" They dumped the cover they were practicing in favor of their original pieces. Napalm and Manic stared, eventually deciding to let Manic sing first. Didn't seem like letting a drummer do lead vocals was a good idea by any means, but he was going to try. "Go get our epitaths engraves And we'll destroy this brand new age Running water turned to gold Under butchered steel and atomic roads" Manic wasn't trained for punk rock specifically, but he clearly trained. A lot. His voice carried a great deal of power and emotion. For his age, it was an impressive set of pipes. Oxi played along, playing the same chord for the majority of the verse before playing different ones for the chorus. They seemed to be getting pretty tight with this as the day went on. And practice carried on. Manic took one or two songs, with Oxide and Napalm taking the brunt of the load. They didn't have too many songs yet, and they definitely weren't ready for any kind of a show. But they were still passionate about they were doing, and carried on as long as they could. "Hold on dude, I need to..." Manic stood up some time late in the afternoon, exhausted by their almost nonstop practice. "I need, like, ten drinks right now... God, how long have we been practicing, anyways?" "I don't know, long time I guess." Oxide shrugged, unplugging his guitar as he put it against his amp. "Wanna go home?" Oxi asked. Napalm nodded, putting away his bass guitar as he walked out. "I'm just gonna stay here," Manic said. "I'm just gonna try and get this drum pattern a bit more, I feel like I've gotta. Night, dudes." So Manic stayed in the building as Oxide and Napalm left in the late afternoon. But something was wrong. Oxide could hear Manic drumming earlier in the day, but nothing of the sort now. Even though he claimed to be staying behind to practice, he wasn't playing, and he wasn't leaving the building. Oxi notice this and stood there for a moment, wondering what Manic was doing in there. He stood there a little longer before peeking in, maybe he dropped his sticks and was trying to find them. But when he looked through the door, Manic was gone. The instruments and amps were all present and untouched, and the drum sticks were neatly left on top of the snare drum. He didn't see Manic leave through the back, and he couldn't have left through the front. It seemed like Manic had just disappeared. Well, not exactly. He normally ignored them, but there was a small set of stairs in the back room leading up to a second floor. And sure enough, he could hear Manic humming one of the tunes they performed from deeper in the building. Oxide began to explore deeper into the old, beaten up building, looking for Manic to see what he was doing. Wasn't his business but then again he didn't have anything else to do but go home. The stairs were cramped and short, but they lead upwards, into- "Collins!" The room itself was clearly once an office space, but was now just some decayed room. Manic shot up from where he was on the floor, surprised and angry. He stepped backwards quickly, no idea what he should have said.He didn't need to say anything, though. "Dude.......what is this place?" He asked, walking around the room, checking it out. "Do you........live here?" Oxide was shocked, looking at the worn out mattress, the pile of dirty clothes, and the very few possessions underneath a small light. Manic's mind didn't just search for the right thing to say, but the right thing to feel. Confused? Angry? Depressed, scared, what?! When he began to get close to his clothes, though, he suddenly ran up and stood in front to stop him from moving closer. "What the hell are you-?!" He stopped himself from yelling, and took a moment to calm down. "Why are you up here, anyways?" He snarled, trying to derail the question. "Cause I was was wonderin' if you were havin' a wank, you said you were gonna play drums, well these walls are paper thin cause I can hear you playing drums a block away and I didn't hear any drums......why are you homeless?" Oxide asked, kneeling in front of him. Manic looked away and huffed. He'd known Collins- No, he'd known OXIDE for he last three years, he could trust him. "I'm-" He began to sit down, moving to the side a bit so he was sitting on the pile of clothes. "You know how I said I was just, like, adopted by that Ferrel dude? You know, the street thief guy? Uh, he dealt in a lot of really illegal stuff, I guess, so-" He kept swallowing and inhaling to stay calm. "I'm pretty sure he got arrested, and I ended up here." He looked up at the skylight, the glass clouded from decades of use, but still letting light trickle through. It was clear a lot of thoughts were running through his head. Oxide didn't know what to say, he went through all of this. "Mate.....why didn't you tell me?" Oxide questioned, looking Manic dead in the eye. Manic smirked. "I can make enough money to like, get food and stuff. I don't need any help getting by, I've got everything I need." He curled his legs to his chest, and looked up. "And I don't know what kind of stuff Ferrell was in. I don't know if anyone'd be looking for me, or whatever." He sighed heavily. "I can still get by, dude. I ain't hungry or nothing." He looked back with a depressed glare. "I guess I'm happy here," he lied to himself. Oxi saw right through that last bullshit covered sentence Manic said. "I can see right through that. You're miserable here aren't you?" He asked him. Not moving his eyes away from his. "Dude, quit-! Don't stare, that's weird." Manic looked away, but they both knew that Oxide was correct. Well, not entirely correct, but not wrong, either. "I'm not miserable, it's just- it gets hard, you know? Laundry and food and all that crap, it ain't cheap. I mean..." He hugged his legs to his chest. "I mean, I've met a few other guys at my job that are pretty cool." I.E., he met them while pickpocketing. "There's this dude named Scourge who's helped me a bunch, and-" He smiled. "We got into a fight with this guy he hates, Sonic? He's actually pretty cool, too. So's his sister, and all his friends. Trust me, knowing 'em both ain't easy. They hate each other. Like, HATE." He laughed genuinely through his desperation. "I wouldn't know 'em if this didn't happen to me, so I guess it's kind of a good thing?" He kept trying to smile and lighten the mood, maybe make the news hit him easier. But it clearly wasn't helping.

"You're lucky, dude." Manic eventually said, dropping the act. "Not everyone gets to know who their birth parents are." Oxi sat there, listening to Manic. As he was doing so, he couldn't help but notice that Manic looked pretty cute, but he quickly got those thoughts out of his head, and continued to listen before Manic stopped talking. Oxide didn't know what to say, he really didn't. "You're good at listening, dude." It was a very out-of place thing to say, and didn't sound natural out of Manic. It might have helped a tiny bit, but it just replaced some of the angst with awkward discomfort. He didn't look up or smile, but his sentiments were there. "Thanks, Oxi." "Come on," He said, getting up from the pile of old clothes he was sitting on. "Let's get outta here. I don't wanna make you all depressed." Oxide smiled. "Its not your fault.... Come on, lets go to my house man....." He said, getting up and lending out his hand to help him up. The two stood to their feet. Manic bent over and picked up his backpack, still filled with pages of music notation and writing supplies. The walk back down the stairs was slightly awkward, the entire building having a slightly different vibe to it now. Before they walked away, Manic took the time to padlock the back entrance shut. "Hey, can you keep this quiet?" Manic spoke as they left the building. "Uh, not a lot of people know this about me, and I don't want any pity parties or anything." "Yah yah, I gotcha mate." He patted him on the back and they were off back to Oxide's house. Oxi plopped onto the bed and went to sleep almost right away. Manic just laid down on the ground near the bed, trying to stop thinking as he drifted off to sleep. He didn't want to think about this show right now. He didn't want to think about not having enough money to get food for the week. And he definitely didn't want to think about what Oxide suddenly knew. He just closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. But trying didn't go too well, and he figured if he couldn't stop it, he had to do something. The best he could worry about was food, and his solution wasn't pretty. Late in the night, he snuck through to the kitchen of the house. He didn't take anything large. A few cans of fruit, some old dinner rolls in the back of the bread box... and then put them back. No, he couldn't do this to Oxide. He could just steal from the grocery store if he needed. The more he thought it over, the worse he felt about his decision, and he went back into Oxide's room empty handed and desperately hoping he was still asleep. Oxide was, snoring very softly as he was sprawled out over the bed, wearing his normal clothes. Manic stared for a moment... and ignored whatever he was thinking. Nah, that's ridiculous, he's just a close friend. He laid back down on the blanket he left over the floor, and nervously went to sleep to push those silly thoughts away. He woke up sooner than he normally would. Oxide was still sleeping, so he pulled out some blank paper from his bag. As Oxide slept, he racked his mind for ideas for songs, anything. Just something to push his normal stressed thoughts out of his mind. He scribbled loose ideas for lyrics and melodies for a while, finding all the emotions he could and trying to milk some kind of substance out of it. Oxi got up and stretched, looking over at Manic who was fiddling about with lyrics and melodies. "Come on Manic....*Yawn* lets go and practice again....." He said, getting up, beginning to walk to the kitchen to make some toast before leaving, waiting for Manic. Manic followed him into the kitchen, and waited. No, he was a good thief, he'd covered his tracks. Oxide certainly didn't notice, anyways, he was fine. "Hey, you mind putting in a few slices for me, too?" Soon enough, the two were leaving the house, munching on their toast before starting the short walk back to Manic's home. "Hey, dude, I still need to get some food and stuff after practice. You wanna meet up and do something after? I dunno, just like hang out at some other club or something?" "Yah sure." Oxide shrugged, waiting for Manic to open the door. Napalm was waiting there as well, seemed like this was gonna be a pretty normal thing for them. Manic gave Napalm a quick salute and undid the lock. It didn't take long for the three to get back to their usual practice. Yes, they were ignoring writing new songs so they could try and perfect the ones they already had before their performance. Yes, they were playing the same patterns over and over again, time after time, in what could have been a monotonous cycle. But there was a thrill in just having a song like this that they weren't just writing, but perfecting and claiming as their own. There was an odd ownership to the songs that kept this all fresh. He couldn't help but drum even more passionately as they carried on. Maybe it would be another long day, and maybe they would only have the briefest pause to eat, but they were determined to get their songs right. They had about 10-11 songs down by the end of the day. Tomorrow was gig night. Once again, the three were worn out by the end of practice. They'd spent all weekend getting these songs and covers right, and they were as ready as they'd be for this performance. Manic sent off Napalm with a two finger salute. He expected Oxide to do the same... and then he remembered. "Oh, right!" Manic had completely forgotten about hanging out with Oxide. "Hey, uh, I'm still stopping to get some food and stuff, you mind if we do that before the stores close?" We. He didn't mean to say we, and he didn't want to have any accomplice if he was going to commit any thefts, but the word slipped out. Instead of asking to go it alone, he inadvertently invited Oxide along. "Yah sure, I was planning on nabbing some shit as well," he said, a wide smirk on his face as he began to walk with Manic to a corner store. Manic didn't quite pick up on the vernacular, so when he entered with Oxide, he tried to play it cool. He knew what kinds of foods would be cheap, he'd done this plenty of times before. He even knew which of the aisles the cashiers couldn't see down. So he waited, conveniently trying to hide a few things in his bag while no one was looking. Some canned goods and a few vegetables disappeared into his bag. But as his basket filled and his bag filled quicker, he started to get a bit greedy, and begun slipping a few comfort foods in, as well. He started getting a bit too confident, and payed less attention to what Oxide was seeing until it was too late. The store manager lunged at Manic, grabbing him by his arm. Enter Oxide, who drop kicked the guy in the face, knocking him into the aisle. Luckily this was before the time of cameras, so he also decided to nab some money from the cash register before booking it with Manic. They legged it down a dark alley, not stopping till they got to Manics place. They locked the door and hid in Manic's room. Manic's heart was still racing. He had so many questions as they darted, Manic still grasping at the basket the whole way. He didn't ever FIGHT anyone he robbed. Was Oxide just doing this to help him? He had no idea, all he knew was that they had to run. They slipped into the alley unseen, but Manic still pulled in the padlock as they reached the building and locked it from the inside. They quietly dashed up into his room, Manic dropping the stolen basket and his bag of stolen goods to the floor before flumping over onto the mattress. The action was over as quickly as it started. Manic breathed heavily from their short run. And then he laughed. It wasn't just a humored laugh, but a relieved, thankful laugh. It carried on for longer than he thought it would, before sitting back up and smiling widely. "I was so worried," he said happily between pants, "that you weren't gonna be cool with me being a thief, but-!" He couldn't help but chuckle a little more. "You seriously went for the register? How much'd you get?" He threw the money on the ground. 50 pounds. "We could maybe get a proper mic so I can hear myself sing," He laughed. "Come on, dude, a mic? You've got a loud voice, you'll be fine! You don't need more attention, it ain't like anyone can ignore that kinda fashion," Manic smarmed, egging him on a little. "But seriously, dude, thats..." He fell back first on the bed, fists held above his head. "Whooo!" He shot up again, this time opening his bag to see what he took. The usual lasting foods, but also a few comfort foods. Some candies, a few sodas, nothing too breathtaking. For Manic, this was like treasure. "So, was this like a one time thing, or are we both gutter thieves?" He joked, choosing a candy bar to gnaw on as celebration. "I guess, but I gotta go, see yah later Manic." He smirked, walking out, hands in his leather jacket as he walked out, but then realized Manic needed to unlock the door for him since it was guarded with a padlock. "Aw," Manic joked. He followed Oxide downstairs, opening the door for him and watching as he stepped out and walked down- "Hey." Manic stopping Oxide from walking further for a moment. "You've been a really cool guy, mate. I just-" He laughed again, and stood in the doorway. "Thanks, dude. It means a lot." Oxi patted him on the back. "It's alright mate, its alright...." He smilled as he then walked out after Manic unlocked the door for him. On the way home, he started having....thoughts...of Manic, them together, in a not so very friendship way, as it was. In a romantic way. He shook his head but this time he couldn't get it out of his head. The thoughts danced across Manic's mind occasionally, but he didn't want them to bug him too much. That was stupid, he wasn't even a girl. Guys were supposed to like girls. He must have been misinterpreting a normal friendship. Thankfully, he had a way to hook up water. True, he had to do some makeshift pipework with old tools that probably weren't completely secure, but the water pumped. He didn't know who was being billed, or who specifically was paying for his showers, but that's how it was. He spent a long time in the shower, just thinking about how on earth they were going to pull off this show, and hoping he could trust Oxide not to tell. Maybe Scourge and some of his friends could show up to the show, if they wanted? Once more, sleep didn't come easily, but his worries were different, and very heavily focused on Oxide...

The day came. First it was going to school, which for some reason, the teachers were there, all of them. Wellm all of them in Manics and Oxide's classes, they were not too sure about the rest of the school.

Before getting to class, Oxi sneaked into the Office to photocopy a piece of paper. Yah they had a photocopier, but no budget to spend on the teachers.

Oxide began plastering those posters all over the school, which read

"The 100 Club

The Clash The Vibrators

999

The slits

The Amphetamines

Come down at 5PM

2 pounds"

And yet, even after taking the time to put those up and getting to class late, Manic wasn't there. Was he alright?

Manic only deigned to appear by midway through second period. But this time, he was different. His hair was worn just a bit higher in a strange style, some of them jutting straight up. Normally, they just fell wildly. Manic walked in midway through he period, as though nothing was strange, and sat down in his normal seat. He tried to look casual, but the way he tapped his foot throughout the day gave away that Manic wasn't as calm as he acted.

This carried until fourth period. Their teacher was tired and didn't care about students talking. Even better, Manic and Oxide were right at the back of the class. "Hey, dude, I saw all those posters," he said. "You think we're ready for this?"

"Hell yah man." He then plastered another poster onto the chalkboard. The teacher just looked at him but then looked away, not really caring. Some people got up to check it out. A lot of murmuring was coming from them.

"Is this that 'punk' think?"

"Ew, what's with these gormless names?"

"I dunno, sounds cool."

It was mostly disapproval, with some loose interest from a few certain students. If it was any other teacher, they would have stopped the students. But their science teacher was so disillusioned with his job, he was willing to let most anything slide.

The day dragged on, passing through lunch and their last few periods. Manic occasionally tapped some of the drum patterns as some desperate means of practicing, until someone would tell him to stop. Finally, after an agonizing, anxiety inducing wait, the final bell rung. Manic started his normal walk out of the building with Oxide.

"Hey, you mind if you meet me at the place? I wanna talk to someone first."

"Yah sure, but we should make it quick, we got 2 hours to get to the club and we still gotta transport are gear to it, including the drum kit. Maybe I could get Napalm's parents to drive us there."

"I thought the club would- hm." Manic realized just how little he knew about these places. "Tell you what, I know a guy who can drive us there. You and Napalm go and get the kit disassembled, I'm gonna find a payphone. Just listen for a van." Without giving Oxide a chance to respond, he rushed away, rummaging through his bag for however much change he would need.

Oxide nodded, grabbing Napalm. "Wait, you need to unlock the place for us." Oxide said. He ran off to grab Napalm before bringing him back.

Manic stopped in place. "Right, uh... Right, here!" He found the key in his bag, tossing it towards the two. Napalm caught it, and once more, Manic rushed to the payphone outside of the school as Oxide and Napalm rushed towards the practice space.

As they disappeared down the street, Manic waited for his friend to pick up the phone. "Hey, Scourge? ...Yeah, you know that show? I need some help with something..."

Oxide burst into the room, bringing out all the amps near the door and dismantling the drum kit. They waited for the sound of a van.

It was a little longer than they expected, but with time, a van customized with some weird green striped design pulled up near the back alley entrance. The van screeched to a stop, and Manic hopped out of the passenger door, and from the other side, a green hedgehog in a leather jacket left the driver seat.

"This is that Scourge guy I mentioned," Manic said. Scourge greeted the two with a nod of his head.

"Your sure they're old enough to enter a club like that?" He joked.

"Hey!" Manic and Scourge snapped at one another, but every word they said was blatantly sarcastic and meant in good fun. He gave Oxide a brief look, but didn't seem to say anything to him. "Come on, let's get moving." Manic and Scourge started loading some of the drums into the van, whispering something to one another when the other two were out of earshot.

Oxi paid no attention to the whispering and just loaded up the gear. Soon it was loaded up and it was time to go to the show.

It was a fairly short drive, so Scourge took the chance to talk while he still had it. "So what, you guys are a punk band?" Scourge asked.

"Uuuuh, I'm pretty sure," Manic said, not entirely sure himself. "I mean, we're trying to be really blunt and loud, so-"

"So a punk band." Scourge said with a grin, clearly amused with himself. "I called up some of my friends to check it out. You know, Fiona, Miles, Jason- Hope you don't mind a crowd," he teased.

"Hell yah, we're a punk band! We're called the Amphetamines!" He grinned laughing from the back of the van.

"Oh my god I'm so fucking scared!" Napalm had really ragged breath.

"Don't worry dude, just remember, no one can hear the bassist in the first place." He snickered, it seemed to get Napalms spirits up a bit.

"Hell, I'm always nervous, an I'm still going in there! For some reason. You'll be fiiine!" Manic tried to reassure him as they sped down towards the venue.

After maybe ten minutes tops, they'd arrived at their show location. There was a slightly larger crowd, and judging by the amount of colors and a few of the faces they could make out, it looked like some of them were from their school. As they left the van in front of the side entrance, a few other animals came up to see Scourge. A red fox woman, a snobby fox boy, a few of his normal crew members. Some of them didn't seem to like being there. Not fans, presumably.

"Boomer, Jason, help us get this crap in there!" He shouted, prompting a walrus and yet another hedgehog to step forward. Scourge and Manic still carried in drums and amps together, seemingly caught up in a serious conversation.

Oxide didn't bother listening in. It was his friends, he didn't need to butt into Manic's life even further. Besides, they needed to get this stuff in quickly.

After 5 minutes of loading up and hauling ass, the band got everything onstage. The manager gave them the ok to play, they got onstage and looked around. There was a decent crowd of 30-40 people out there.

As Oxide gave a very brief introduction to the crowd, Manic scanned the faces. Of course, Scourge and his crew, some other punks who were there the last time they played, and if he wasn't mistaken, a few kids from their school. Given that they just wrote most of these songs three days prior and hadn't performed a show before, there was a lot of pressure to perform well. Oxide gave the cue, and there was a pause.

Manic froze. He was supposed to start out this song with a drum line, but he couldn't lift his sticks. He'd never played for an audience before, and it was starting to come out. Why couldn't he move his arms?! He had to play, something, anything! He was a good drummer, he could pull this off! Why wasn't he playing?!

Oxide started up with a guitar riff for a completely different song. What was he-

Like an automaton, Manic immediately started into the drum line as soon as the riff ended. Sheer muscle memory was driving him through the songs where anxiety stopped him from playing, and he was playing well. More than well, actually. All their practice was paying off.

Oxide jumped into the air when Manic started drumming. Napalm managed to keep up, though due to his much smaller size, it was much harder to hold a bass. Oxide got up to the mic and start singing.

"wearing, you're klan hood

Sucking on, the white man's chode

Hanging people from the trees

Wearing, your klan coat

Kill the KKK

Kill the KKK

Kill the KKK

Kill the KKK"

Oxides vocals were now able to be heard, and it was shown that he had a very rough sounding singing voice.

It definitely carried a lot of vocal fry, much more than Manic's. But this was punk rock, and that only helped his performance. The singing carried all through the room,  blunt line after blunt line reverberating through the amps. Maybe the band was making an all-around amateur performance. But the audience realized just how young they were, and didn't seem to mind. Hell, most of them seemed to be enjoying the show.

And as their songs carried on, Manic began to find his rhythm again. Whatever fear was stopping him from playing at first was gone, as his focus drifted to making sure every smash was perfectly timed. It was cacophanous and absolutely perfect in his mind.

They finished their set and the crowd cheered, they were also covered in spit as well. Hey, if they don't gob at you, means they don't like the performance.

"Ah, man, thats- That's kinda gross!" Manic said as they began to move their equipment, shaking off some of the spit that managed to reach that far back on the stage. The drums disassembled quickly, and were easy to move away as they waited for the next band to get on stage.

"Sorry about freezing up like that at the start. Thanks for saving my ass, guys."

"Yah man, that's alright." Napalm said, taking off his spit covered shirt. Oxide reappeared from the club after taking a little longer than the rest.

"We're playing in 3 days," Oxide said.

"Again?" Manic seemed quite genuinely surprised. But the crowds seemed to enjoy them. Maybe it was just the novelyty of a band having only three members and skewing so young.

Scourge approached the three outside of the club entrance. "I ain't ever heard a punk show live. You've got some talent," Scourge said. "Anyone who can make Miles that pissy's gotta be making good music." The young fox with the snobby hair was standing with a few other members of Scourge's troupe a distance away from the club, shooting glares and gossiping loudly about what they perceived as subpar music fans.

Manic didn't seem that bothered by him. "Ah, who cares what he thinks? So what, we staying to watch the whole show, or what are we doing?"

"Yah sure, we can get in for free, though it will cut into our cut of the money. " Oxide said. Thirty to forty peeps times two equalled 60-80 pounds right there.

Manic stood back and thought. "Eh, tell you what. Let's just leave 'em here to have a good time without us." He spoke from behind his hand like it was a secret. "With last night, that's at least 110 pounds in two days."

"And where'd you get that kind of money?" The red fox with Scourge walked up and teased the two.

"Hey, Fi, you dumpin' me already?" Scourge clearly knew she was just flirting, given by his massive grin. He pulled Fiona into his arms, with her toying with his chest. "What, you're giving up the REAL green criminal badass and going off-brand?"

"Please, I've played drums for like four days," Manic said, ignoring the almost decade of practice he'd already had before their show. "You've only played your guitar for, pfft, what, ten years? You can't POSSIBLY be half as good."

The three continued with their pointless banter, temporarily leaving Oxide and Napalm out of the conversation. Well, only Oxide, really. Napalm seemed to be in his own conversation with Jason away from the four. Soon enough, Manic turned around and motioned for Oxide to come closer. "Funny thing, Oxi? These guys live out of this van, dude, they're also homeless." He smirked. "I'm almost dissapointed you're missing out on having a shitty, horrible lifestyle~"

Scourge's leather jacket looked like it was very nice, especially for someone who was homeless. Hell, Fiona's clothes were clearly pricey, and those earrings looked like real gold. But with Manic being a thief and Scourge bragging about being a criminal, it was clear how they could 'afford' such nice things.

"Oh cool. If I stayed outside my house for more than one night, then my mom would fucking kill me." He said with nervous laughter, cause it was probably true. His mother has actually told him that, and she could be violent, especially when drunk.

But they didn't catch on the undercurrents completely. They just laughed along with him, leaving his slightly terrifying statement as a joke in their minds.

"Man, don't let her give you that shit!" Scourge said. "Do whatever the hell you want, and if she doesn't like it, that's her problem.

"Well, it'd probably end up being his problem." Manic said. "I'd say you could hang out at my place and work on those lyrics we've been struggling with, but I guess she'd kill you then, too?"

They could hear power chords playing from inside the club. It looked like most of the students from their school had decided to quietly leave at some point, but they could still see a few familiar faces in the crowd. "Eh, come on, they ain't getting any better than us," Manic joked. "Wanna cruise around for a while and do nothing?"

"I thought we were just dumping you guys back at your place and heading out?" Fiona asked her boyfriend. He shrugged, not seeming to care either way.

Manic turned towards Oxide. "I dunno, what are you up for?"

".....I kinda wanna see the show...." He said quietly. Napalm nodded, wanting to do the same. Hell, they were there so they might as well.

"Well, come on, let's see the show!" Manic said, not even giving a moment for them to respond. "We've got fifty pounds to burn, let's get in there!"

It would have been another exciting, brilliant show with a bizarre amount of spitting. And for a while, it was. Manic could see his friends watching, pogoing and enjoying the show for a while, and the music was growing on Manic more and more. For a while, it was perfect. A bit stereotypical, with a small band in a smoky room, but it was fun.

...Smoky?

There was an odd smoke in the air, something Manic couldn't place as some members of the audience slipped into the back room and out, even watching Scourge and Fiona head through. He normally wouldn't have cared - punk traditions weren't his alley, he just like the music - but he then noticed that at some point, Oxide was no longer gobbing at the stage like he normally would have. He couldn't help but peak into the back room.

It was was a smoke room. Pot, tobacco, anything you could smoke, you smoked it here. There was a joint being passed around. Oxide had done this sort of thing before, he took a hit and coughed a little before passing it to some other guy.

Manic could only tell what the cigarettes were. There were strange substances and strange pipes he couldn't identify, and he wasn't sure what to think. It looked like there was some nasty stuff... was there? He honestly couldn't tell, but from the looks of it, the people using it seemed more drugged out than anyone else in the room.

He closed the door again, leaving Oxide and whoever else was in there to do as they wanted. The fumes were making him feel a little slow, and he still had a show to enjoy. He just kept an eye on that door, making sure he didn't see anyone who looked like they were ODing, or anything.

Oxide came out, his eyes a tad red from all the pot. He then went to the front of the stage and pogo'd, gobbing as well just like the rest of the audience.

Manic hadn't seen drugs used in person before. He heard horror stories, but other than that, nothing. Still, Oxide didn't seem like he was having the kinds of horrible symptoms he'd heard from a few loose awful stories. He seemed like he was having the time of his life, and the few of Scourge's crew that actually stuck around didn't seem to mind. Was he just being square about this stuff?

Chord after chord, song after song. Another violent, loud concert that was probably audible to anyone in the neighborhood. Manic kept near the back of the club this time, dancing but mostly staying away from whatever those weird spitting rituals punks had were. He'd been spit on enough for one day. Which was to say, he got spat on by absolutely anyone. And once more, the music carried on for much longer than it felt like it did.

The concert ended, and everyone piled into the van to drive around and do nothing like they were going to do originally. "So what now?" Oxi asked, looking around the van.

Their gear was stashed near the side of the panel van. Around the floor that Manic, Oxide and Napalm were sitting around on were some beanbags and a lot of garbage and litter. The van certainly looked lived in. Fiona sat in the passenger seat as Scourge drove them around mindlessly, some rock station turned up and with most of them just chatting mindlessly along to whatever was playing.

"And I swear, she said those kinds of things would 'rot your flesh off!'" Manic said, still not over what he'd seen. "How was smoking some weird drug supposed to do that?!" "That's not the nasty stuff," Fiona added. Scourge glanced over from the driver's seat. "If you're didn't like seeing that stuff, you wouldn't wanna see what goes on in underground clubs," he teased. "Shut up!" Manic shouted back. "What, don't call me stupid about drugs just because I was stupid about drugs!" "Drugs are awesome." Oxi poked in. Just bluntly saying like that got him a few stares. "What? You haven't stolen some pill bottle from a 200 year old lady in some retirement home?" He asked, looking around at the surprised faces. They were surprised for different reasons. Fiona was simply surprised, hearing him speak up for the first time in a while and not knowing what to make of that. Scourge was more amused than surprised, actually laughing at what he said. "What, just random pills?! You don't even know what you're getting into? That's all kinds of stupid," he laughed, clearly not thinking of it as a tragedy. Manic, however, was mortified. There were the kinds of things he'd heard about drug users. It was one thing to think of these kinds of traits on a random vague person who was presented as an antagonist. It was another thing to hear them coming out of the mouth of someone he actually liked. Manic was trying to come up with some way he could justify this for Oxide without challenging his beliefs, but nothing was happening. He sat there, staring, as Scourge and Fiona started shouting hollow insults at one another in jest. Manic leaned over while the two were distracted. "Uh... You aren't being serious, right?" "I've slowly gotten to know what kind of pills do what, and which ones I do need to stay away from, but before that, I'd just snatch a random pill bottle while helping out at the retirement home centre or wherever and see what they do to my body. Of course I don't take all of them at once." It was that line 'see what they do to my body' that got to Manic. There were many, many mixed thoughts. Anger, sadness, fury, even a little jealousy at how carefree he was with himself. But still, bad thoughts echoed through Manic's head, as well as every word Scourge had spoken to him. "Don't get fucked up, dude. Okay?" Manic was oddly somber as he spoke, not that the three others in the car even seemed to be listening. "Alright, alright." Oxi wrapped his arm around Manics neck and gave him a noogie, laughing out loud. "Ey, ey, quit it, dude!" Manic protested, trying to break free but laughing the whole time. Suddenly slingshotting from one emotion to another caught Manic off guard, and he ended up genuinely laughing at the moment. Oxide knew what he was doing. He hoped he knew, anyways, but he was still healthy. He had to stop worrying, and let loose. When he finally pulled free of Oxide's grip, he slammed back towards the van, slamming into Napalm... and after a moment, laughed again. "Ah, sorry, dude!" Manic said, helping him up. "You alright, mate?" "Yah I'm alright." He giggled. "Hey, I know a great place we can eat at." Oxide went to the front of the van, poking his head in from between the seats. Scourge and Fiona gave one another a glare. Then, Scourge turned back to look at Oxide. "Where's it at?" They weren't driving anywhere in particular, just wasting gas and seeing if they saw anyone they could mess with. The van turned around and rocketed back from the way there were coming, speeding through lights and taking back road shortcuts that were more for Scourge to show off than to save any time. They weren't in a hurry. So they kept singing along to whatever came on the radio, until they finally made those last few turns. "THERE IT IS!" Oxide yelled incredibly loudly, forgetting he wasn't screaming on stage from earlier. Oxi went into the back and sat back down, waiting to get out. No one cared that he was yelling. Maybe Fiona was getting tired of hanging out with a bunch of screaming dudes all day, but she wasn't saying anything yet. They didn't know what this place was, but it wasn't a fancy part of town, so no one was complaining. "What is this mess, anyways?" Manic said, dying to get an answer. "Its an awesome burger joint. Huge burgers for really low prices," he said, kicking the doors open and hopping out. Napalm just kinda fell out of the van, picking himself up after falling. When the five piled into the restaurant, the rooster running the register visibly went through from shock to disappointment to acceptance, cycling through the stages of grief. It appeared that this wasn't Scourge's first visit. "Heeeey, punk," Scourge schmoozed as he strolled up to the counter. "Glad to see you got the place all fixed up." "I've had a long day," the exasperated employee sighed out. Clearly, whatever Scourge did here last time left some kind of impact. "What do you want?" The burgers they could see people eating around the restaurant weren't big, they were absolutely massive. Manic rubbed his hands in anticipation as they all made their orders to an employee that probably shouldn't have had to deal with Scourge. "Heh, you know this guy?" Oxide asked, looking at Scourge with a smirk on his face as he pointed to the rooster. "Know him?" Fiona teased, walking up and running a finger down the face of the clearly tired employee. "He's such a good worker. He didn't even call the cops when we came here last time!" "Last time." Manic said, curious about this story. "You know, someone screws up our order, we screw up their restaurant." Scourge shrugged. "Fair's fair." "I'm just the guy who runs the register," he protested again. "Alright, let's give him a tiny, short, brief break." Manic said, impatient to finally try one of those monstrous burgers. "I'mma get one of your number five- No, seven? Yeah, number seven. Gimme that cheesy mess." "Number 9," Oxide said, which was the veggie burger. "Number 1," Napalm went next, which was the normal cheese burger. "And a large Coke as well, and for this guy, too." Oxi added in. Scourge and Fiona didn't seem to want to stop teasing them, but they'd had their fun. By the time they finished placing their order, Scourge handed over a debit card. Pretty swanky, given how young he was. "Whaddya mean it's not working?" Scourge asked. "Swipe it again." He swiped it five or six times, before Scourge went back into his wallet to fish around for his card- "And thank you~" The moment they got their food, Scourge grabbed the bag and jetted out of the building without even bothering to pay. Manic grabbed Napalm by the arm and virtually dragged him out of the building as they made their sudden, petty escape. Oxide however, wasn't an asshole and paid for his food. He grabbed his cup and went to one of the new fountain drinks that have been popping up around here lately. He filled it with his soda and left, along with Napalm's soda. He got in the car and shot them looks. "You really are a bunch of arse holes arn't you?" "Ain't we all?" Scourge cooed out with a massive, toothy smile. "Some of us steal food, some of us old people's medicine, who're you to judge?" Manic shot Scourge a glare, but he was barely shaken by it. Manic didn't quite agree with this, either, but hell, it was free food for him. He wasn't going to complain, especially from the delicious melted cheese smell wafting from their bag. "Don't be an ass, dude." Once again, Scourge seemed unfazed. He clearly didn't care what he was called. Oxide then whispered to Manic. "Think I should dump my soda on his head?" He asked, pointing to Scourge. "Like, he deserves it, but it's also a waste of a soda." Manic said back. "Just use something else. Napalm probably won't miss his soda~" The glare he shot at Manic indicated he would, indeed, miss his soda. Manic just made a smug face back at him. "Hell, you don't like the way we roll, then get outta the van," Scourge shot back. "Hey, don't kick him out yet, we still gotta drop this stuff off, dude." Manic said in some desperate attempt to try and lighten the mood. "Jesus christ mate, calm down." Oxide laughed, seeing him get all pissy because Oxide didn't like the way Scourge just snatched the food. "Then again, I shouldn't talk, I nicked 50 pounds from a cash register so I really have no reason to judge." Scourge still seemed mildly angry, but maybe he was just being stubborn. Fiona seemed mildly amused, and Manic just looked away looking embarrased. "And I'm guessing Manic talked you into that?" She asked, giving Manic a joking glare. He was currently gnawing down on his stolen meal. He took a moment to swallow a bite of that heavenly burger before continuing. "Uuuh, yeah, more or less," Manic laughed out. "We kind of screwed up at nicking something, and guess he jumped in to help." "Yah." Oxide said, slurping down his soda as he wolfed down his burger. "Jesus christ, these things are amazing," Oxide said, mouth watering from the flavour, and they were huge too. It was clear that the others shared their sentiment. Napalm was chowing down happily, Fiona clearly didn't care about being ladylike as she made a mess of her meal, and even Scourge took the time to eat while he drove, making his driving even more erratic than usual. Everyone was loving their meals. Manic a little too much,as barely after starting to eat his, he was already finished somehow. "Ah, man, that was awesome..." He then remembered just how much burger he was actually eating. "I'd wanna go back for another, but-" "How?!" Scourge snapped at him. "That thing was as big as your head!" "Minus the hair," Oxide chimed in. Napalm snickered at that, Oxi did too. "But seriously, that hardly filled me up at all, even though it was as big as my stomach. If not bigger." "I mean, there's that, but like, I think we probably got kicked out for that? SCOURGE?" Manic sassed at Scourge. "Hey, they'll forget about it in a month or two," He shot back. "How much do you guys eat, anyways? Thought someone's cute as you wouldn't eat at all." Manic and Fiona seemed unfazed by the 'cute' comment. "That burger's probably enough to keep him going for a year," Fiona joked between bites. "Cute?" Oxide questioned. "What are you, gay?" Napalm laughed, Oxi did the same. "Like there's nothing wrong with that it's just.....weird," Said Napalm, finishing off his soda. "What makes you think I'm gay?" Scourge said, grinning widely and pointing his thumb back towards Fiona. "You think anyone could resist that?" Fiona put down her meal, having eaten a surprising amount given how thin she was. She hopped into the front passenger seat, and kissed Scourge on the lips. "Feeling's mutual," she gleamed back. "And who cares if I like dudes?" Scourge said in a joking tone it almost sounded like he stole from Manic, and warped into his own strange way of talking. "You don't like that, then get out of-" "Can you stop kicking Oxide out? That's the second time today," Manic interjected, dripping with sarcasm. "Hey, you wanna get kicked out twice, too?" Scourge shot back. This was the first time Oxide noticed the kinds of glares Manic and Scourge were occasionally exchanging all night, always followed by looking away and pretend like nothing had happened. "At least drop us off at the place you picked us up from, Jesus christ....." Oxi then took a look at Manic. He did seem pretty cute, and this time he allowed those thoughts to run freely in his head. "You sure?" Scourge just turned back to the road. "Whatever." Each look the two of them gave kept lingering over the other's body. There was no doubt that there was some kind of interest between Manic and Scourge. But these looks took a backseat to some normal chatting as the five started the short drive from wherever they were back to Manic's place. Scourge's erratic driving only made it even shorter. "Alright, get your stuff outta here," Scourge said as soon as they parked by the building. The drums were already bagged up, and the amps and guitars were easy to lift. But once again, Scourge and Manic spoke in private as the two other hedgehog moved the gear back into the building. It looked fairly serious, too. But with a high five, Manic spun back around, and Scourge and Fiona rocketed down the street once again. "Ah man," Manic said as he stretched his arms over his head. "That show was brutal, guys. I can't believe we pulled that mess off." "Yah. and we got another show in 3 days." Oxide smiled, putting his guitar into the practice space before leaving for his house. "Bye Manic, see you at school tomorrow." He got into his bedroom and then plopped down onto the bed, falling into dream land. "Wait-" By the time Manic said it, he was already too far away to hear. What was he getting nervous? What wasn't the punk thing to do! But there was nothing he could do about it now. Before Napalm left, he zeroed him out. "Hey, dude, can you... I dunno, dude, do you think you could say you're too sick to practice tomorrow, or something?" Manic scratched the back of his head. "Me and Oxide have a lot to talk about tomorrow." "Yah, sure, I guess...." Napalm shrugged, walking off to go back to his house. The morning sun rose behind the thick layer of clouds, it was now October and it seems some teachers were returning to school, probably just so they get paid. "If any of you are still awake," their geometry teacher sputtered out, "we're going to start our unit on radians... ..." Circles. It was just boring, boring circles. Manic scribbled on the papers around him as the teacher droned on. He wanted to talk with Oxide, sure, but he didn't mind school giving them an excuse to keep procrastinating. But Oxide couldn't read this during any of their classes. All he could tell was that Manic was nervous, and Tristan seemed like he'd come down with something. Oxide wrote down what the teacher told them, being a goody little two shoes for the time being. He glanced at manic, the same thoughts running through his head. He had to focus on school right now though, so he went back to writing the equation. And that's how it went for most of the day. Either Manic felt like he had to focus, Oxide felt like he had to focus, or they were in a class with a teacher who wouldn't let anyone talk. Most times, multiple cases ended up being true. So the day dragged on and on... "Pukey?" Just as planned, Napalm had stopped the two on their way out of the school, with Manic playing along. "What, you think you'd vom all over the practice room?" "Yah...not feeling to good...." He said. He walked off after saying that, leaving Oxide and Manic alone. "Ok....so why did you wanna talk to me, Manic?" He asked, looking at him. There were still some straggling students leaving the school. "You mind if we talk about it on the way to my place? We could practice a little without him, you know." It was only a slightly longer walk to Manic's place than to Oxide's. The streets carried on, the more decrepit stretches of buildings having nearly empty streets. He finally got to the point as the got nearer. "You know how Scourge, like, said he was into guys?" Manic asked. He started by testing the waters, and seeing if he could see any pangs of nervousness out of Oxide. "That's- it's not that weird, right dude? Cause we've been talking, and I mean, I think I might be into him, but he's already got Fiona." He looked away. "I ain't gonna break up what they've got. I just- I didn't think I was a homo. Is that cool with you, dude?" Oxide froze. Manic was homo? Maybe he could actually come out to him. He bit his lower lip, sweat going down the side of his head. "Uhh...Manic....can I tell you something? " He asked, squirming a little, afraid. Manic was removing the padlock at this point. Just from the way Oxide talked and jutted around, he felt like he knew what he was going to say. He pushed the door open, and laughed lightly. "Are you into me?" Manic lead Oxide in, spinning around in the empty room to face him. Oxide was surprisingly bashful for the kinds of songs he tended to sing, but it just made him look cute. "I was asking Scourge about how to tell you this stuff, and he gave all this advice about being slick and all that shit, but I don't wanna be fake." He laughed again, a bit nervous himself about what he was about to say. "You're... pretty hot, Oxi." This made blush even more. "Uhh....Uhh. ...I......" Oxide couldn't even think of something to say he was so embarrassed. ".....Same to....you...." He said bashfully. "I didn't think you'd be embarrased," Manic said. he stepped forward slowly, giving Oxide plenty of time to push back. But he didn't. Manic's twitching hands wrapped around Oxide's waist. He was trying to act casual, but his acting skills were beginning to be off-set by sheer nervousness. He faced Oxide head on. "Have you ever kissed a guy?" His lips were parted, but he waited for Oxide to make his move, if he wanted. "N-No....But...." He swallowed, feeling like he was trying to choke down a cue ball. "I....I've always wanted to....to be honest...." He looked away then back to Manic. Not knowing if he should make the first move or if Manic should. Manic just smirked. "I mean it, dude, you're cute." He pulled Oxide slightly closer. "Really cute..." He moved in slowly for his first gay kiss. There was no tongue kissing or anything, just simple movements to learn exactly how kissing worked. Not that they needed any help, they didn't think. This feeling was perfect to them, for just the short few moments it lasted. Manic pulled away first, not sure what to think. He moved in again, wanting the moment to last. Oxi did too, he helped out by wrapping his arms around Manic as well to kiss him back, moaning softly as their lips touched a second time. He was in heaven, his first boyfriend. Even if people thought it was weird, he didn't. They kissed for much longer before pulling away to breathe. "I don't have anything going on," Manic said. "I was just gonna hang out here and do some homework, maybe rob someone else or summat." He laughed at himself. He couldn't believe he just said that. Oxide's shamelesness was starting to affect him. "You wanna head out? We could just stay in, too." He smiled, pulling Manic close. "Sure, I'd love that....." He said, walking off with Manic. He wanted to hold hands, but they were in public and he didn't wanna get beaten up by a bunch of jocks. There weren't too many places they could walk to that they could really talk about this stuff at. Having a boyfriend, any kind of flirting, they couldn't do that. They certainly wanted to, but they knew they couldn't. Their walk brought them past some bougie restaurants they couldn't really afford, some run down shopping district, and a few of the small parks in the area. For two punk rock musician, it was strangely twee. Manic kept trying to say something, but it was strange now. Things were clearly going to be different, and he wasn't sure what would have been appropriate. Oxide had a smile on his face, he was happy that he's got someone to be with, he couldn't care less if it was the same gender or not. They decided to walk to that burger joint. "I'll go in, since I actually paid for my stuff....." He laughed, winking at him before going into the burger joint. The rooster seemed relieved that it was only Oxide in the store. So he happily - well as happily as a minimum wage employee could get - served Oxide his food. Oxide came walking back out, giving Manic his food as well as a soda. "Hey, I didn't STEAL my food, that was all Scourge!" Manic protested, knowing this was completely untrue. "Thanks, dude. How'd you even hear about this place?" He didn't wait around this time, sitting down so he could unwrap that burger and show down as soon as possible. It was some different burger. Manic normally wouldn't have cared for a veggie burger, but this joint found a way to even make them delicious. "Ah, dude, that can't be vegetables, can it?" His only experiences with vegetables had been blandly cooked or steamed, nothing with proper spices and good cooking. "I know right? Oh yah, I guess I should mention the fact that I'm vegetarian." he said before biting into his burger, and taking a sip from his soda. "So....what do you wanna do now?.....boyfriend...." He asked with a small blush. Manic took a scared glance around. No one else had heard Oxide. "I mean, I don't really care, dude. We don't have to be mushy, I just like hanging out with you." He scratched his head. "I kinda wanna hang out alone, I don't really feel safe doing this stuff in public." He chuckled. "But you can protect me, can't you?" His normal sarcasm was back, it seemed. "Yes, I can protect the little princess that is Manic the hedgehog." He laughed, teasing him a bit before calming down as he began to eat and slurp down his meal. "But seriously, what else is there to do? Honestly, so fuckin' bored of this fucked up city. Depression, no future, bullshit music on the radio, Nothing....It sucks...." "If all the music's bullshit, that why we've gotta make it better." Manic smirked. "Ain't that the point of having a band?" ".......God damn you're smart...." He said, finishing off his burger. "Come on, let's go get Napalm and let's practice. We got a show in 2 days now...." He reminded Manic. This was true, they needed to get better. Sure the crowd liked them the first time, but that's because it was their first concert, so it was forgivable. But now they would have to play harder, faster, and tighter. Manic laughed slightly. "So what, you saw right through Napalm's acting? He ain't that great, is he? I'll go tell him to stop over, you head back to my place and get the stuff all set up." He handed the key over to Oxide. "Got it?" "Sure man." He smiled. He then looked around, making sure no in was watching before he locked lips with Manic, pulling away soon after before walking off to the practice space. It was a bit of a wait, but Oxide had plenty of time to tune his guitar and practice some chords on his own before Manic arrived with a very confused Napalm. "Alright, we've gotta get these songs DOWN. We were great, let's make it better." They turned up the amps. Now that they had some kind of a set and some kind of songs, their practice was much more focused. They had played them enough times to know what sounds good and what doesn't. Which notes needed particular emphasis, or sounded better slightly out of time? It was almost like they were broken with how often they would play one particular part over and over again and again, before doing the same for another small patch that should have sounded fine. Their ears were starting to get more refined to their own songs. Oxide decided to start speeding up the pace of the songs, playing all down strums as they hammered through their 10-11 song set list. It was sounding better and better each and every day till the concert. And practice was getting more and more intense with each day until the concert. By the time they were finished with some last minute fine tuning the day of the concert, Manic was definitely feeling awful. He was thankful Oxide didn't decide to do this on one of their full day practices, he probably couldn't have handled that just yet. Still, all this practice was keeping him in shape, so he wasn't complaining. "This just gonna be a normal thing for us now? Like, same time every day?" Manic wiped his arm across his forehead, brushing off some sweat. "Yah.....now let's go...we gotta load up and go to the concert...." Oxide said, giving him a kiss. By this point Napalm knew what was going on, he didn't mind. Oxi and the band started packing things up and waited for Scourge. But they waited longer than they expected. Ten minutes passed... fifteen... twenty in all, before Scourge even bothered rolling up. "Scourge, what're you doing, we're on stage in like half an hour!" Manic helped the band hastily shove their equipment into the van. "We've still gotta do soundcheck and set up again!" "Calm down," Scourge said with that smug, wide grin. "I'll have you there in five minutes." This was no easy feat, but damn if he didn't try. Speed limits were treated as vague suggestions, with Scourge taking two different 'shortcuts' over the course of their wild drive to avoid police. The van suddenly screeched to a stop in front of the venue, Manic visibly reenergized by the intense car ride. "What, it's already over?!" Manic shouted, acting as though the three hadn't had an intense practice session. "Come on, guys, help me haul this crap in!" Oxide and Napalm hopped out and started hauling gear on stage, and doing it fast, setting up the drums, amps, mics and such. Finally, they got everything onstage, except for Napalms bass, which they forgot. "Shit! I forgot my bass!!!" Napalm panicked, but the bassist of 999 chimed in. "You can borrow my bad mate, just don't break it." He smiled, handing him the bass. Napalm thanked him before plugging in. No time for sound check, there was only time to play in front of an audience of 60. Manic could feel his heart race again. He'd forgotten how he froze up at their last show, and just prayed that as soon as Oxide was done saying something to the audience- Manic wasted no time. Driving through what was supposed to be their intro song last time with surgical precision. He wasn't just focused on precision, but power. Damn, he was going to need power to be audible over Oxide's performance. Oxide bounced around all over the stage, at times trying to dodge the hurls of spit thrown at him and the band. Even though getting gobbled at was a sign that they liked you, it wasn't very pleasant, cause when he looked over at Napalm, he was visibly disgusted at what was going on. Manic at least had the benefit of having an entire drum set around him, but Napalm didn't have that kind of protection. The moment Oxide looked over to him, Manic motioned towards Napalm to try and tell Oxide to shield him at least a little. He only had a moment to get this across, before yet another intense burst of drums came in. They'd have to come up with something for next time. Oxide sure as hell wasn't gonna take the gunk people where spitting at them, Napalm can tough it out. Hey, Oxide was having the same problems, but he was toughing them out no problem. Manic wasn't really sure what he expected. He knew he didn't want to get spit on any more than they did, so he wasn't judging. It was strange to course through these songs on a stage. Not because of the audience, but because he kept reliving bits and pieces of their practices. Many, many pieces of practice. Offhanded lines about single moments were etched into his mind, and he couldn't tell if it was because they were so new. It was completely new, and Manic was all about new experiences. It was frightening in an exhilerating way, and only drove him to hit the drums harder and harder. After their last song, the crowd cheered. While the rest of the band was putting away gear, Oxide went over to collect payment, which was 20 pounds. After, he went over to help out the rest of the band and haul the rest of the gear into Scourge's van. "Were you guys on something?!" scourge said, clearly excited. "You've got a ton of talent." Manic blushed at the comment, and once again, they had one of those cushy stares. He didn't give the same to Oxide, thankfully, but he did help him carry all his stuff to the van. When the final amp was loaded, Manic turned to Scourge. "Man, you need to drive me back, this mess is disgusting." He said, shaking the legs of his pants that got covered in spit. Scourge said something to Manic quietly. He made a goofy face and grinned. "Yeah, I already told him, dude." Manic walked over to Oxide, and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "Turns out... he's just as gay as me." "Bisexual actually, I like both cocks and tits~" he smirked, pulling Manic into a sloppy kiss the moment they got into the van and out of the public eye. "Don't worry about being subtle with me around," Scourge said, "Anyone screams at you guys, I'll fuck 'em up." Napalm seemed just as uncomfortable when they started the drive back to drop off the equipment, with Manic and Oxide kissing and flirting shamelessly in the back. "Don't worry, kid." Scourge gave Napalm a condescending pat on the back. "You'll find a piece of ass someday." This absolutely didn't make him more comfortable, but Scourge didn't seem to notice or care. When they arrived, Manic hopped out of the van almost immediately. "I'll be right back, guys, I'm just getting pants that aren't covered in spit. Just start getting stuff in!" He didn't even give them a chance to respond before rushing inside. "Manic couldn't shut up about you a week back," Scourge said to Oxide. "You're lucky, I almost wanted to make a move... You make him real happy." ".....yah don't you have Fiona though?" Oxide asked, looking at Scourge as he unloaded equipment into the practice space. "Yah man, be fuckin' faithful to you're woman dude..." Napalm added in, putting the bass amp into the practice space. "You say that like she wouldn't know," Scourge said. "And you say that like I'd choose between 'em." Manic finally came down the stairs, wearing virtually identical but less spit stained pants. "Alright, I think that show's gonna leave me sore for like, five years?" Still, he trundled out of the building and carried one of the few remaining things inside. "Hey, dude, thanks again. Sorry about the spit stains." "Don't even care about 'em," Scourge said. He nodded at the three band members before shooting down the street again. "Ah man, that was awesome, guys!" Manic didn't want to contain his excitement. "Ah man, I think I wanna sleep for ten years." "Then let me join you~" Oxide cooed, pulling him into the practice space, leaving Napalm outside by himself. "That was kind of cold, dude," Manic teased about Napalm being left outside. He thought they were just joking around... but Oxide was being serious. He was being nudged towards the stairs, and he was putting on his flirting voice. "Woah, woah, dude, wait." Manic said, clearly very nervous. "I mean... I mean, I'm not saying no, dude, but I haven't ever-" He swallowed. "You know what I'm trying to say, dude, you get me? I haven't even had a boyfriend before." Oxide stopped for a moment, then pulled away. "You're right.....that was kinda cold of me, wasn't it?" Manic just smiled. "Dude, he's your friend, I'm sure he'll be fine with it. We've both been treating him like such a third wheel..." He swung the door open. Napalm was already walking away from the building. "Wait, dude, we were just playing a joke!" He was rushing down the street. Damn, he'd been ignoring Napalm badly. Napalm was pretty angry. "What the fuck do you want, you fucking cock sucker?" Napalm cussed at Manic, he was really angry. "I don't wanna fucking talk to you....." He began to run away. Manic's initial thought was to keep trying to call him out for calling him a cock sucker, but that wouldn't help. His second was to try to open up to him, but Napalm didn't want to talk. He kept chasing, though, just to say one more thing. "Dude, if you wanna talk, I'll be here, okay?" Napalm didn't respond. He ran. Manic slowly walked back towards his home, Oxide waiting near the door. "I fucked up real bad," he admitted. "Really bad, dude. Fuck... fuck!" It was all he could think to say. As the last week began to replay in his head, just how much of a third wheel he'd become was becoming more and more obvious, and Manic was slowly growing angry at himself. Oxide came out, watching Napalm disappear into the horizon. "Don't worry, I've know this guy for a while, he'll get over it pretty quickly,. He always has when I've pissed him off, or if someone else has. He's not one to stay angry for long." He assured Manic, knowing he probably was really angry at himself for making Napalm third wheel for this long. "Still... Ah, whatever." Manic shook off the nerves, hoping Oxide was right. There wasn't anything he could do about it now, anyways. The two stood facing one another, slightly awkward. "Hey, dude, uh, were you being serious before?" Manic was blushing heavily again. He couldn't believe he was being this brave. "You wanna stay the night?" Oxide wasn't being very serious, bur he kinda did. "....Uhh.....yah sure...." He smiled, wrapping an arm around Manic's waist. " Oh wait, hold on." He then ran off. He came 5 minutes later. "Had to get mums permission to sleep over at your house." "'House'." Manic scoffed. "Don't worry, dude, you're fine." It was just another walk upstairs. It felt different to walk upstairs this time, not that they knew what they were going to do. They were anxious to start... Very anxious, in fact. "Wait, mate." Manic kept backing up on the mattress or pulling away from kisses whenever they tried to get more intimate. "I thought I'd be more adventurous than this. Um... You mind if we just hang out tonight?" He seemed incredibly embarrassed, like he'd shamed Oxide. Oxi blinked, looking at Manic who looked incredibly cute with how much he was blushing. A smirk appeared on his face, and he chuckled. "Sure." He said. "Alright, dude, cool, cool." He didn't know why he was backing out now. Maybe it was that same thing stopping him from playing earlier? He wasn't a nervous person, right? He was a rock musician, he couldn't be scared! But here he was chickening out yet again. Not that he minded, in this case. It was nice to law down next to Oxide on some crappy mattress, turn on an old radio and listen to whatever they could find. Oxide was weirdly cuddly, and Manic didn't think he'd be into that, but once more, here he was. The could hear the wind howl from behind the dusty skylight, and watched as the last bits of indigo light disappeared into night. Oxide had both arms wrapped around Manic, hugging him tightly as he watched the sun set before there was no more sun to set. However, he was in the mood to make out a little, so he pulled Manic close and locked lips with his. Manic had thought of his little place as abandoned, or screwed up, or just a massive sack of crap. He didn't think he could get romantic in a place like this, but he was making out with a guy he'd only been interested in for a few days. Manic might have been worried about going all the way, but some making out was definitely fine with him. The night rolled by, the moon and stars their silent witnesses. Memories came rushing back to Manic as he woke up... Oxide had actually gotten him comfortable enough. There were many thoughts going through his head, and the fact he was with Oxide made the pleasant thoughts that much stronger. He was too tired to get up, so he let Oxide sleep against his chest as he ran his hands down his orange partner's back. His fur was warm to the touch. Oxi snored softly, his face pressed against Manics chest as he was still in dreamland, reliving the moments he had with Manic not long ago in that land. Manic did move a bit, to turn on the radio to something that was actually playing music in the morning. Nothing loud enough to wake him up, but just some noise to make the moment even better. He pulled the blanket back over them both, and let his sleeping partner cuddle for as long as he wanted. Maybe the air was dusty, maybe the rain against the skylight was harsh, maybe they were using bundled pieces of Manic's clothes as pillows. They didn't care even a little. "Thanks," he mumbled, kissing him on the lips as his lover slept. This woke Oxi up. He wasn't complaining cause he kissed his lover right back, giving some tongue this time as well, to add to the moment. It was unexpected and entirely welcome. Just a lazy morning between them. Sure it was passionate, but it was only as passionate as they could manage to be for how tired they were. They regularly stopped to breathe, or lazily roll over. They just wanted to keep kissing one another, and forget about anything else. Manic eventually broke the kiss to speak properly. "We've already missed our first three classes," he said, clearly fine with that fact. "Shit, oh well. Come on let's go, we can get all mushy afterwards~" He cooed, getting up as he put his shirt back on. He had a skinny, but very muscular appearance. They threw their clothes back on and grabbed Manic's school stuff. He lent some pencils and paper to Oxide, it wasn't like they needed anything else, their textbooks were all old anyways. And thankfully, they arrived just before the fifth period bell. They were able to enter into the crowds of students shuffling from class to class like they'd been there the whole day. But their French class wasn't quite as smooth as their entrance. Manic wasn't near Oxide this period, instead next to Napalm, who still seemed a little angry. He just happened to miss the spelling of a certain word. "Hey, dude, how do you spell 'ar-jeaunt'?" Napalm didn't reply. "Dude?" He just continued to work, not looking at Manic. He was thinking about something, and that something was telling the entire school that Manic and Oxide were gay for each other. He then looked at Manic. "........what?........." "Mate, I know what we did was shitty. I'm sorry, okay?" The sentiment was genuine, but the delivery wasn't Manic's best. The words more tumbled out clumsily, than anything. "Manic?" Their teacher said across the room, clearly calling him out for speaking in class. "If you're done chatting, can you repeat the name for 'yellow'?" "Uh, jaune, right?" "...Correct," she spoke, keeping an eye on Manic as she turned back to their colors unit. Manic kept peeking at Napalm, who didn't exactly look moved by Manic's apology. Napalm wasn't as angry, but he wasn't gonna just say, "Ok now we're friends again." They still were, but Napalm looked like he wanted some time to himself. He gave Napalm another concerned glade before class was over, but then dropped it. Once Mrs. Owens started calling students out, people knew to go on high alert. "...And he was just like that all day." Manic and Oxide spoke during their final period. "I dunno, I don't think he's coming to practice. You sure he'll be fine?" "Yah....At least I think so." "Collins Atskins?" The teacher called out. "Here!" Oxi called back, raising his hand as he did so. After that, he turned his attention back to Manic. "This is pretty new to him, he's only 13 and with all the shit people feed others about people like us, it's probably had an affect on him...." Oxi explained. "It's weird we're this much older than him," Manic said. "Hope he didn't hear too much of that garbage." But any kind of socializing in a high school came with gossip attached. Mostly in vague, sometimes explicitely, it was always there. Even if he didn't realize it Napalm was going to absorb some of it just by existing in a school like this. But class marched on like they weren't having a serious conversation. Why did the teacher show up today, of all days? Why couldn't they go on strike when they needed to get out of school early? Just sitting around and listening to droning lectures was only giving Manic time to overthink the situation. Somehow, he managed through with minimal awful thoughts. They didn't pursue Napalm, but they did see him almost hurry through the halls, and likely leaving through the back entrance. "Well, crap." Manic said as they exited. "You just wanna practice a bit without him? Or- Ah, doing stuff without him's what got him like this." "......." Oxide kinda wanted to do the stuff that made Napalm the way he is today, but, they did need to practise. "Sure, I'll right down some bass tab for new songs..." Oxide said, walking out with Manic. "I guess we should try working in some more prominent bass lines? Punk ain't really about having a groove, but just cause it ain't normal doesn't mean it couldn't work." He needed to think. What could they do that would help make Napalm's role more prominent? "I'd say solos, but he's still bass, and that ain't really a-" "No." Manic cut himself off, smiling. "Punk's all about doing things the 'wrong' or 'rebellious' way, so let's compose the 'wrong' way. How the hell could we make it work?" They could make it work, they knew they could! They learned eleven songs in barely a week, they were capable! They just needed to put in an effort, and probably a hell of an apology later. "Dude, even I can't solo, and I think Napalm only started playing like 3 months ago anyway.....we could throw in some better grooves though....." Oxide thought, spending a couple of hours trying to write bass lines. That was most of what practice was. Grooves, how could they make him more prominant in their sound? They kept plucking at the strings of his bass guitar to remind them of exactly how the instruments soudned together. They needed to get every note tight, which was hard to do without every band member present. "That- that's just straight up funk, right there." Manic joked, in response to a particular line. "Like, it's pretty good funk, but that ain't rock." Eventually, Oxide started playing the basslines on his own guitar,  just to make sure that they would sound good. "Uh, can you try it a little faster?" "Yeah... yeah, with a few minor note changes, that one could also work." Manic started playing a simply rhythm, enough to compliment but not enough to overpower. "I think we've gotta get him in here to work on the guitar part, but yeah, that'd be great!" Mild worry pushed them into action, it seemed. They were pretty productive, given it was only the two of them. Oxide finally thought of a good bassline that worked well for 3 of their songs. "Well, now to think of some more." Oxide sighed, however. He put down his bass and walked over to Manic. Once he got close enough, he wrapped his arms around Manic and pulled him into a kiss. Manic knew exactly what he was coming in for. He backed away from his drums a bit and stood up to meed Oxide. They were alone, they were spending time doing music stuff together, it was just going to happen. Another warm kiss to give them a break from their work. "I mean, we've already come up with a bunch and gotten a lot of practice in," Manic said when he pulled away. "We can just call it off for today and head out." "Sure, but....I'd much rather....cuddle.....to be honest....." He said bashfully, his face turning red as can be as his eyes darted away for a short while before going back to meet Manic's. "Why're you being so shy?" Manic said coyly. "You're fine, Oxi, You know I like doing nothing with you." Manic lead the way upstairs again, Manic having hastily cleaned the room. He sat down on the bed, holding Oxide in for a hug. It wasn't anything big or bold, but it was some time with each other, and that's all it needed to be. But Oxi did wanna take it a few steps further, so he locked lips with Manic and began to push him onto the bed, both arms around him as they made out. What was Oxide doing to Manic? He was worried about being a punk band, or getting spat on, or going all the way with someone else. But the more time they spent together, the more comfortable he started to get with these ideas. Much more, in fact. He knew his nerves stopped him from doing things he'd enjoy, and Oxi was pushing him even further into enjoying them. The adventure and thrill of it all was a treat for Manic. Every second they spent together was a treat. So Manic let him make his move. "Nine already?" Manic shifted up to look at the radio. Sure enough, practice and their time together had passed more time than he thought. He did want to keep laying right next to Oxide and keep nuzzling him. Even if he enjoyed being intimate, the time spend nuzzling and cuddling after was the real draw for Manic. Despite all that enjoyment, though, that night was just a little different. "Hey, you know, there's this place downtown that has reeeeeal cheap drinks on Friday nights. Scourge said he'd pick me up in like half an hour, you wanna come along?" He laid back down against Oxide's chest. "Like, a real date?" "Yah sure, lemme go tell my mom. I'll be most likely spending the night here though, or at the very least won't be home till late." Oxide said, getting up and rushing out the door. He came back 15 minutes later, ragged and out of breath. He plopped onto the floor, too tired to move for the next 10 minutes. Manic squatted down next to him. "You didn't have to jog the whole way." He smirked, sitting down next to him and poking fun at one another until they heard some tires screech yet again in front of the building. Scourge was in the front, Fiona sitting right next to him. There were a couple of Scourge's other friends already in the van, although no one Oxide know. Fiona passed Oxide back a small ID card. Did she have a fake ID printed for him? "Thanks mate." He thanked her, wrapping an arm around Manic, softly nuzzling him till they got to the place that Scourge was driving them to. The drive seemed too short, in what felt like a couple of minutes. Actually, it was a couple of minutes because Scourge drove like a fucking psycho. The doors swung open after the van came to a screeching halt. "We're here already?" Oxide asked, letting go of Manic as he stepped out of the van. 'You think we're fucking around in here?" Scourge said. "I don't waste time." It was a small bar deep in the city, the kind surrounded by neon signs and darkened windows. And the begrudging bodyguard out front didn't even check most of the IDs, clearly noticing and not caring that some of the patrons were underage. But inside, it was strangely nice, for someone Scourge or Manic would go. The bar was already filled with many others, a number of whom Manic could identify as some of Scourge's other friends. "Hope y'all brought your own cash," Scourge added with an evil grin. Manic had remembered to nick some money for this, that wasn't his concern. "Oh my god- Oxi, you won't believe who's here," Manic whispered, indicating Oxide towards a table near the far end of the pub, at one of the few patrons in here who wasn't drinking. It was Napalm, a 13 year old in a 16+ bar. He was sipping on a soda. He then looked over and saw Manic and Oxide looking at him. Manic immediately brushed his hair aside and started to walk towards the bar, as though that would have helped the situation. He tugged Oxide along by the arm, giving Napalm his space and hoping this didn't make things astronomically worse. He went right up to Scourge. "Why didn't you tell us Napalm'd be here?" Manic sputtered. "Napalm...? Oh, right, your other band guy." Scourge said. "I didn't know, I didn't tell him. Jason said he was bringing some friend along, he didn't say who." "Oh.....well shit....." Oxide cussed, but anyways, they sat down, trying to forget about the situation. Oxide and Manic went to the counter, Oxide ordered a some whisky mixed with Cola. "Uh..." Manic didn't know what to order. "Okay, honestly? Promise you won't judge." He whispered behind his hand, before turning to one of the two bartenders. "You got anything that's really fruity?" The bartender walked away, coming back with a small glass filled with a dark red drink. "What? Most alcohol tastes awful, who cares if it's strong or whatever?" They sat at a small table close to the bar, not having found any open seats there. "Ugh... sorry, dude, if I knew, I wouldn't've come." He took a sip from his cup. "This stuff just kinda happens around me, y'know?" He let out a small laugh at himself. "Yah, I have the same problem....." Oxide said, looking at him before looking away, seeing a bottle of whisky and a glass bottle of cola, along with a pint cup that had some ice cubes in it. Oxide poured the whisky and cola in at the same time, stopping once the fizz was reaching the top. He let it die down, and poured some more untill the glass was almost full save for some fizz still hanging around. His way of preparing his drink was very methodical. Manic smirked, "I'm guessing this ain't your first time going out drinking?" He certainly wasn't judging, and his red disaster clearly wasn't his first drink. "Woah, that mess is sour!" He said after another taste of his drink. He looked away, wincing a bit. "Like, that's really sour! Damn, I didn't expect that!" He just laughed it off, cursing himself for ordering a random drink. "Here lemme try that...." Oxide said, taking the glass and giving it a taste. "Hmm, yah that is sour, luckily I love sour stuff. Wanna try my drink?" Oxide asked him, sliding his whisky/cola concoction towards Manic. He didn't need more than a sip to know he was liking it. "See, that's the good kind of alcohol, cause it doesn't taste like alcohol." He said like he was some kind of wiseman. His glance kept turning towards the bar, not enough for Napalm to think it was suspicious. And sure enough, he eventually saw that hedgehog Scourge would hang out with talking to Napalm. But he was careful to keep his looks short and subtle. He kept talking as he peaked over. "God, the first one I tried just tasted like dirty nickels, who drinks that stuff?" "Sad, unemployed or minimum wage people in their 40s who have lost all hope in life and haven't had sex in 10 years...." Oxide said, smirking as he finished off his drink. He then just drank the cola and whiskey seperate. Manic was fine with his sour drink, and happily finished it now that he was prepared. Happy enough to get a second cup, in fact. Napalms presence was keeping him on edge, but he was still spending a night drinking and having fun with Oxide, and even though he didn't know too many of Scourge's friends, they were fun to be around. "Hey." Manic spoke bluntly through his drink, now drunk enough to say it in public. "I'm lucky I got to meet you, dude. Thank you." "Jesus christ are you drunk already?" Oxide asked, laughing his ass off. He was tipsy, but it looks like he can take a little more than Manic can. "Jesus christ you're a light weight...." "Hey, I'm not drunk!" Manic said, affecting a slur for the sake of the joke. "Like, I'm the lightest lightweight, but even I'm not that light! Two drinks is like my limit." He leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, just to enjoy the energy of the bar. Oxide could see someone at the bar glaring at them... and Scourge standing up and clearly threatening them. They piped down immediately, and started minding their business. It seemed like Scourge's promise wasn't hollow. Manic pulled away. "You need to wash your face, dude, you taste like dirt." But he said it with a big, winning smile. "That's because I slept at your place last night." He laughed, ordering another drink. 3 drinks later and Oxide was visibly drunk, not shitfaced, but he was slurring quite a bit. "Alright, dude, I think we should get you back to your place." Manic said. "Before you pass out in an alley or summat." Manic stood up and lead Oxide out of the bar, happy to see he was still walking properly. "I guess my place is a while away. You just wanna pass out in Scourge's van? I'll keep you safe~" He teased. "Sure, will he mind if he finds us without our clothes 'wrestling'~?" Oxide asked in a very sexual tone, a hand going up Manic's shirt as his lips were inches away from Manic's. "Oooooh, trust me, you don't wanna know what happened to the last couple he caught back there." The panel doors swung open easily - Scourge didn't bother to lock the car, it seemed. He helped Oxide get up into the van so he could fall to one of the crappy bean-bag chairs left in the back. Manic sat against him as Oxide laid down, holding his head in his lap. It should have been a sweet moment. "Hey." The two immediately turned their heads to the open van doors. It was some heckler. Oxide turned his attention towards the fat, late 40 year old fuck who caught them about to make out. "The hell you fuckin' faggots doin'? You suckin' each others cocks? Thats what faggots do, right? Fuck buttfuckers...." He cussed out, spitting on almost every word. Oxide got up and pushed him away, then began to kick him in the head. The guy begged for Oxide to stop. Eventually, he did, and watched the man cry from being beaten down. "I got beaten up by a faggot..." He said inbetween sobs over and over. "Watch out, maybe I'll fuck you next time~" He chuckled, getting back into the van and locking the door this time. "My hero~" Manic said with the most sarcasm he could muster. He was grateful, truly, but he just had to work in some sass somewhere. He watched Oxide waddle back towards the beanbag. "But he got it wrong. He got beat up by a DRUNK faggot." "Hahahaha! Aahahahaha! Yah!" Oxide laughed his ass off, plopping on top of Manic before sloppily and drunkenly making out with him, his tongue slipping against Manics tongue. Manic was half expecting Scourge to come in at any point just to say something sassy, but he didn't. He did pop in to grab some cigarettes, but neither of them noticed, and he didn't ruin the mood for them. They were just kids being stupid and enjoying themselves, that was pretty much Scourge's whole life. The night would draw on, and the two would keep kissing and flirting stupid statements at each other. Eventually, Scourge's crew was going to need a ride home, but Manic didn't care. Even when some of his friends started piling into the van, they only slowed down and didn't make such a show out of it. NOW was when Scourge decided to wolf whistle and break the mood for fun. Oxide looked up from the wolf whistle, with the perfect 'Are-you-fucking-kidding-me-mate-why-did-you-ruin-the-fucking-moment-you-cunt?' face as he just stared at Scourge for the rest of the ride. "Don't worry about it, dude, he's just being an ass." He leaned over and gave him another smooch on the cheek, this time prepared for the taste of dirt. "Oh, shit, wait, we got a few more guys coming. Get in here!" Scourge waved in the last few people, leaving the van pretty cramped. The last few stragglers were that lynx he always hung out with, that walrus Manic wasn't too fond of, and Jason. Jason and Napalm, in fact. They walked into the van, clearly considering walking back, but Scourge was already off and driving. "So are those guys like...your friends or something?" Jason asked Napalm. "Somewhat yah, we're in a band together...." Napalm replied with. 'We're in a band'. Not, we WERE in a band, he admitted they were still a band together. That was good. Manic felt a little more comfortable with that statement. He waited until he was sure they weren't speaking. "Hey, name's Manic." He piped in with, above the sounds or the rest of Scourge's crew talking and chatting. "Man, sorry, Napes, I had no idea you were coming here, I just came for the drinks. Honest!" He turned towards Jason, careful not to put on too much energy and be annoying. "You wanna get dropped off at a different bar, or something?" "I just wanna get dropped off at my house..." Napalm said, in a very bored and monotone voice. The van came to a screeching halt outside the practice space. Oxide, Napalm and Manic got out. Oxide waved goodbye to the van before it disappeared. "Napalm, I'm really sorry about just like, not treating you right." Manic was blushing heavily and looking away, clearly having trouble finding the humility to apologize. "We've been trying to write some better bass lines, dude. We'll- We'll treat you better, dude." He looked back up at him again. "You want us to look at the sheet music, or-" "Yah sure, gimme the sheet music and I'll take a look at it...." He said. After he was handed the sheet music, he walked off. Oxide and Manic watched as Napalm walked off into the horizon. "So...where were we~?" Oxide asked, wrapping an arm around Manic's waist. "Getting interrupted by Scourge, I think." Manic joked, he only took a short break to unlock the door and let them both in. Manic was a little too tipsy to go too far with Oxide, but he was happy kissing and cuddling his drunken face until they felt like they couldn't stay awake another second. And by the time they woke up, their hangovers were taking over. They didn't drink too much, but a hangover was a hangover, no matter how mild it was. "Ah, man... you're just gonna keep crashing here, ain't you?" Manic said as we went to grab something to drink to get it to stop. He went to turn on something decent- He stopped. It was almost noon on a Saturday. Practice was supposed to start hours before, and there was some kind of loud knocking from the back entrance. "Open up the fucking door, you fucking gays!" Napalm was screaming and shouting from downstairs, wailing on the door, trying to get the hungover boyfriends attention. Oxide slowly walked down stairs and opened the door. "Shut up and get in asshole, Oxi and Manic are hung over...." Oxide said, dragging Napalm into the building. "Wait." Manic almost commanded through his headache. "Dude, you need to stop saying that shit. That's the second time now, dude, you can't just insult us with that. It just makes it alright for assholes to insult us with that." Napalm didn't care, he just walked over to his bass guitar. "I practised those basslines, and tweaked some as well, they're pretty good to be honest." he said with a faint smile. He plugged his guitar in and tuned up. "Really, dude, I'm serious. Don't ever call me a cock sucker again." But Manic didn't call of practice or act like a diva after that. He just grabbed his sticks and walked towards his drums, as ready as he'd be to get some practice done. It was an interesting challenge to work the almost jazzy lines into such a harsh sound. Sure, notes needed to change here and there and guitar suffered a bit to make it work, but the sounds started to come together through the sound. They tried their best to focus on getting some kind of lyrics to fit, to make anything fit. "Aaaaugh!" Manic groaned in frustration. "We've been doing this all wrong, we need some rhythm guitar to make it- Nah, Oxid's gotta play the main melody, the whole point- Ugh." Another sigh. This was harder than they thought it would be. "I think Jason can play guitar..." Napalm piped in with his own comment. "He can?" Oxide asked, looking away from the fretboard and at Napalm. "Yah, you want me to go get him? I know where he lives, has his own amp and everything...." Napalm said, putting down his guitar. "Jason? That's the same guy you were out with last night, right?" Manic scratched his head. "Like, sure, head down if you want. I think I gotta do some maintenance on my drums, anyways. I think the snare's too loose." "Alright." Napalm walked out, returning 2 hours later. "He lives on the other side of the city, in a much more rural area...." Napalm said. Jason walked in, amp and guitar in hand. "Oh, dude, you should've told us! We could've gotten, like, Scourge or Oxide's parents or something to drive him over!" Manic said. "Uh... Yeah, we're looking for some kinda rhythm guitar part. You think you can give it a go?" "Yah sure, you got the tab?" Jason asked, plugging in his guitar into the amplifier. "And how many songs do you guys have anyways?" Jason asked. "11 finished ones, with a couple that we're still working on...." Oxide replied Manic was finished with maintenance on his drums, and everyone else was plugged in and tuned. Yeah, a fourth member could help the band come together, make a fuller sound. Bands clearly didn't have four members just for the hell of it. They were ready. Napalm and Jason shared a look, before Manic started them off on their unfinished number. Jason seemed to be able to play his parts pretty well, even though this was his first time playing any of them. They played through all of their songs, usually on the 1st or 2nd run through, only one song had to be stopped more than twice, and that was due to a cymbal falling over each time, not because of Jason. "Jason's pretty good." Oxide said. "He lives in a rural area filled with rednecks and homophobic fucks, this is the only thing he can really do." Napalm said. His playing had a distinct sound to it, perfect for rhythm roles. "Dude, you're really good!" Manic said after making sure his cymbals were set up and hopefully not going to fall again. "You're got a really good sound. Uh- I mean, you think you'll be able to keep driving out here? Hell, we need a fourth member." He turned to face the other two. "What're you guys thinking?" "I can walk out here, I don't mind...." Jason seemed to be a very laid back dude. "When's our next show?" He asked, looking at the three. "Uh... It should be next Thursday, right? So like, we've got five days to get a set down." Manic put his drum sticks down on the snare. "IF you think you can handle that, we can totally keep meeting up!" He gave a mischievous grin. "You up for the challenge?" "Yah sure...." Jason seemed bored, well not bored, but just kind of a little too calm. Five days later and the band was onstage, along with Jason. Some of the school kids came by again, after putting about 300 flyers all over the school and city. "Hey everyone, this guy right here, yah his name is Jason....I don't know his full name...." Oxide laughed. "1 2 3 4!" Oxide counted them all in. And just as they'd promised to, Napalm had a more prominent role this time around. It was strange to have more of a groove compared to the other punk bands playing that night, but it just meant they were distinct. They sounded good, they knew that. And now that they had a fourth band member, their sound was starting to fill out more and more. In fact, Jason helped their band with more than just sound. He was chill enough that he could stop Napalm and Manic from getting angry at one another for those first few rehearsals, it helped considerably. He was even willing to stand closer to the front of the stage and take some of the gobbing that normally would have hit Napalm. They definitely got along well. But most importantly for their performance, his playing was fantastic for his age, and filled out their sound considerably. He might not have been the first person Manic would have gone to, but damn if he wasn't happy with the result. The audience gobbed, the audience pogo'd, the audience cheered, it was awesome. After the set was done, Oxide and his band packed up so the next band, Chelsea, could play next. "No, really, dude, I think you were even better on stage than you were at practice!" If Manic had recordings of their practice and their show, he wouldn't have heard too much of a different. But the thrill of showing off their new sound magnified Jason's music even more in his mind. He turned towards Napalm now, still pointing casually at Jason. "Have you guys played songs with each other before? Your styles mesh really well." "Once, but not for long...." Napalm said, putting the bass amp into the van. "Hey, thanks for constantly driving us out here Scourge." Oxide thanked the green hunk. Scourge gleamed back, taking a moment to realize what Oxide had said.

"Wait, 're you tricking me into being a roadie?!" Manic just spun around and gave Scourge that silly, sassy smile he would always give him. Scourge pushed his hair back, and put on that evil, toothy grin. "You're lucky your music's too good to pass up... So what, am I some grunt or whatever?" "No, you're the BEST grunt," Manic teased right back. He broke his smarm to laugh genuinely and pat Scourge on the shoulder. "But yeah, dude, you've been awesome. Thanks a ton." "I wasn't calling you a roadie mate...." Oxide laughed a little. "Can we go to that bar again and maybe get shit faced some more?" Oxide asked. "They ain't half as cheap any other night. You sure about that?" Scourge said. "Kinda overpriced, too." "They're letting us in, we can't really complain," Manic said. The moment Manic finished helping them load the van, he ran around to the passenger side door. "Come on, y'all, get in!" The band nodded, getting into the back. Oxide looked over at Manic, before going up and wrapping both arms around him. He was tired, so he felt like cuddling a little. He made sure not to let himself and Manic get too heated, he didn't wanna piss off Napalm again. Napalm seemed a tad more comfortable with this, at least he knew what was going to happen. 'Comfortable' was a relative term. Scourge's driving was still insane, and Manic was clearly still about the thrill. There was only so comfortable one could be in a car hurtling through the streets with little regard for absolutely anything. But it seemed like Jason's efforts to get Manic and Napalm to stop being bitchy with each other was working. He did seem about as comfortable as someone could get in this situation. By the time the van screeched to a halt in front of the bar, far too little time had passed for as far as they went. "Alright, so are we just ordering a round of something to celebrate or what?" "I wanna get fucking shit faced." Oxide smirked. "I also know a guy that can sell us some pot if anyone wants to smoke." Oxide said before stumbling out of the van, That seemed to brighten Napalm's spirits as he got out of the van along with Jason. Scourge was clearly into the idea. Manic wasn't so much, but he didn't say anything. The group walked right into the bar, the doorman once again not caring who he was letting in. This wasn't the most reputable bar, it seemed. "Alright, get us like, four of those coke and whiskey drink things, and like, one normal drink for blue boy over there," Manic said to the bartender, indicating towards Napalm. Even if they weren't fighting, they still played their stupid games teasing each other. "Get me the strongest stuff in this bar...." Napalm said. "Same here...." Jason added. Everyone looked at them like they were insane, the bartender shrugged and pulled out a bottle and 2 shot glasses. While the sat down and waited for their drinks, Scourge ruffled Oxide's hair in a way that would've been condescending, but Scourge was always messing with him. "You sure you can handle that? If you black out here, we're leaving you here." He threatened hollowly. "Shut up, Scourge." Manic fired back. "We're leaving him outside, the bartender shouldn't have to drag him out!" "I'm not getting the strong stuff, Napalm and Jason are....." Oxide said, looking at Scourge. Oxide's whisky and cola got place in front of him. He filled up the pint glass and chugged it down. "I wasn't asking about the strong stuff," Scourge added as he filled his own glass. A simple round of drinks to celebrate a show gone well. It would have been a fun but somewhat mundane celebration. And then Napalm and Jason got their drinks. Napalm and Jason filled up their shot glasses and downed the first shot, then the second, then the third, then the fourth, it wasn't until the 6th that they were really actually totally absolutely no-doubt-about-it shitfaced. "Holy shit, you guys seriously- Are we gonna have to drag you to the van, or something?" Manic joked. But as they stumbled around in their chairs and seemed to laugh at nothing, Manic was starting to think they would actually have to do that. When Napalm tumbled out of the barstool, Scourge just laughed. Manic would have gotten up to help, but given his grin, he didn't seem to mind having fallen. How much alcohol were in those shots, anyways? "Oh yah, forgot to tell you guys, that stuff is about 75% pure alcohol...." The bartender said. Oxide lost it, laughing his ass off. He then nabbed the bottle and took a swig from it, and it hit him hard. "Holy shit....." Oxide said, putting the bottle down before falling out of his chair, he already did have 2 pints of whisky and cola. Scourge faced Manic, laughing wildly. "Whaddya say, think he's drunk enough?" Scourge said, stopping his laughter for just long enough to speak. Manic was already out of his stool, helping Oxide get back to his feet. "You think you can walk, or do I have to carry you?" Manic joked, looping one of Oxide's arms around his shoulder to stand him up. "I can walk." He said, paying the bartender as he grabbed the whiskey, the coke and the really strong stuff to go while the rest of the gang helped Napalm and Jason to their feet as well. Napalm and Jason waddled over to the car, having taken the effects of the alcohol stronger than Oxide did. It seemed like Oxide was much more used to drinking than they were. The two eventually slumped and stumbled their way into the back of the car with plenty of assistant, falling down next to one another and still laughing. Before Scourge started the car, Manic leaned over to look at Oxide sitting next to him. "Guess we've got a full band now. You wanna do this after every show?" "Sure~" Napalm said. He wrapped an arm around Jason, who wrapped an arm around Napalm. The alcohol seemed to be having an affect on the both of them as they made prolonged eye contact for quite a while before pulling each other into a kiss. Manic immediately put a finger in front of Scourge's mouth to stop him for ruining the moment for the two. Were they honestly gay for each other? Hell, would they even remember this tomorrow? He leaned over and put his own arm around Oxide as the van pulled away, Scourge watching the less inebriated two talk. "Whaddya say, dude? A whole punk band of faggots sound good to you, too?" "Hell yah, we're here, we're queer, get used to it." Oxide said. "That sounds like a perfect thing to put into a show or movie....." Oxide added, who went to kiss Manic, putting a hand on his leg. Scourge didn't even bother ruining the moment this time. It was one thing to piss off two people who were making out, but they were just kissing and being drunk and stupid. Maybe he was a little jealous, but he wasn't entirely evil. Just mostly. As the van violently flew through the streets, Manic pulled away from the kiss for long enough to talk. "Well, what're we waiting for? We've got tons of music we're working on, let's see how gay we can make it before someone kills us." Another kiss. "Actually, let's wait 'til tomorrow~"

[dreamingwhileawakeuniverse]

Torture to those who have it coming

Author: Dreaming While Awake Universe Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Pairing: Dark Will x Reader Prompt: The reader is a famous person who knows Will lightly through social media, ignores him as a bet with a friend. Which leads to this unfortunate turn of events to envelop. Words: 2674 Warnings: torture, needles, syringes, knife, cutting, organs A/N: I originally wrote it with other characters for a friend then adapted it for my newly found obsession - Hannibal fandom. Tried experimenting with Dark Will's character as he is a fascinating mind capable of strong feelings and acting upon them.

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It was a regular day, no different from any other. Except, in a way, it wasn’t. Not that Y/N knew that yet. She did not anticipate anything happening to her, not in reality, maybe in her dreams or thoughts, but never surpassing the barrier of dreamland. The surprise was still waiting to present itself. Wrapped in ribbon, with a bow on top. People often think of fate or consequences of their actions. Although not expecting judgement day to come, sometimes the anxiety and anticipation is there, lurking in the shadows, whispering, haunting. Now some people believe in karma, natural balance of things, but very often those actions denoting retribution are done by other people on their own will. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing per se, only that laws and human morality denies the pleasure of punishing those who wrong us.

No matter of the size of the act that feels like betrayal, the emotion’s intensity matters most and it is the most common initiator of action for vengeance, violence. The mind gets blinded with hate, needing something, anything to fill that void. Especially in the face of someone ignoring you, and when you know it is done on purpose, by choice, it infuriates you. Makes your blood boil with hatred. All other feelings and emotions become meaningless and you are left with the only decision at that moment. Act upon your instinct? Or keep it to yourself until it passes. But it never truly goes away, does it?

There was this man, William Graham. Still youthful and filled with energy. As of many of blooming adults, his emotions and importance of other people’s attention and acceptance were significant to him. It’s only natural for one to seek acknowledgment from those who seem to matter. In their own world, of course. But no matter what the reality might be, it hurts the same. The pain is the same, the influence… The exact same. Little does anyone know how much their actions can make people do certain things. How persuasive they can be without actually realizing it. And not to their own benefit, I’m afraid.

So there it was, a simple, ordinary day. Weather’s a bit dim, people are caught up in their own thoughts, having their own problems circling around, tightening their necks. And then there’s Y/N. Unsuspecting, living her life, having everything, as it seems, in its place. Life and career going smoothly, acceptance from people, appreciation from those who listen, truly listen to her work. It’s only natural to get lost in the comfort of our surroundings, not ever needing to think of ‘what ifs’. Playing life like it was given for granted. When in reality, every word, every little action sets off a butterfly effect.

Asleep for an afternoon nap, comfortable, unaware, unexpecting. That’s screen perfect moment to attack and assault someone, isn’t it? What’s more fun than seemingly set play? Setting a better one, perfect for the ideas and cravings fueled by pure anger. Quietly sneaking closer, being unnoticed, unheard, not alarming anyone. A sudden stab of a needle to the artery. A concoction to knock out a person… For a short period of time, that is. Possible struggle to drag the body, but with help? It’s easier. Careful to not be seen by anyone around, not causing suspicion. Taking the almost lifeless body to a specifically prepared space. A basement of torture of sorts. At least for this evening, for this occasion. Carefully decided details, equipment, tools. The person, still unsuspecting, strapped to the table, hands, feet cuffed, secured. Checked multiple times, no mistakes can be made. It wouldn’t be acceptable. There’s only one and single chance. The room has no windows, the walls are isolated from any sound leakage. Anything that happens inside, stays there. And whatever is happening outside the walls? Continues existing without any grasp of the nature of cruelty inside. If a photo was made of how this scene looked, one would think of a hospital, professionally prepared operation room, tools in place, sanitary, white and green. Except the surgery that is still to be done will not be of healing to the patient on the table. Rather, a divine intervention, saving the soul of the one taking action. Time was ticking away, the subject on the table started breathing quicker, out of sleep. Consciousness coming back. Eyes fluttering, trying hard to bring life to their owner. Mind still fuzzy, like after a nap that took too long, leaving us confused, uncertain where, when, or even, what are we.

Her eyes slowly coming back to functioning, taking in what’s around. And for the first time, the confusion is justified. Because nothing was recognisable. She had no fucking idea where she is or how she got there. When she noticed a familiar face. Still not able to put a name to it. Body aching, trapped. Fear flowing through her, blood rushing to her brain evoking fight-or-flight instinct. But no luck there, when you are strapped to a table, neither you can punch, nor run.

“Hello, Y/N.” A firm, calm voice echoed in the room.

Her eyes glued to the ones observing her, cold sweat drowning her body. Not sure if it would be a smart decision to initiate a conversation. Even if she tried, it felt like her tongue is stuck in her dry mouth. Possibly not able to emit a sound. She tried sitting up, getting off that table however he could. But there was no way. Hands above her head, feet… Securely tightened. Even her neck had its own belt holding her down. Should she scream for help? Unlikely such a well conducted environment meant a mind behind it would be stupid enough to make a grave error like allowing her yelps to reach anybody.

“Well well well… Feeling uncomfortable? Don’t worry… much.” A sinister tone in his voice, a tool of some sort in his hands. “I understand your state of confusion, fear of what’s to come. Be sure, nothing you imagine is as bad as what my mind can think of.” His eyes burning with emotion, confident posture, slowly walking towards her.

“Tell me, what are you most afraid of, Y/N?” He shifts his gaze to the ceiling, trying to imagine possible ways to induce terror to this girl in front of him. Never actually taking his attention away from her. That would be inconsiderate to deny her of his full focus.

“Not feeling like talking? Oh, wait, how rude of me.” He chuckles lowly. “My name is Will. Rings a bell? Or do you need reminding?” A slight smirk playing on his face. A scalpel in his grasp being lightly tapped onto the other hand.

Her eyes widen, still not certain who is she dealing with… when it hit her. It’s him. Y/N never thinks much when talking to people, heck, she has lots of friends and acquaintances. Some very close and dear to her, some less. A couple are for fun. Many many she ignores. Natural, being famous and well-known comes with a price of a certain amount of attention seeking fans and admirers. But he was different. It didn’t mean much, at first, she randomly picked people to talk to, converse over stuff that seemed intriguing. There were less to choose from anyway. And there he was, having stuff in common, being casual, chatting. Throughout years, he never stopped. Not that she would complain about it. No. But people are peculiar creatures. They get bored, they think of ways to make anything a game. What was there to lose? A virtual relation with someone? A small price to pay for experimenting with people. Until you mess with the wrong ones. It was merely a bet with her band mate. To keep checking, looking at everything he provided. To see how long would this man put effort to reach out, connect, talk. Well, everything has a price tag. Sometimes, even your own head might be served on a plate.

“It’s you.” That’s all her hoarse voice could manage to get out. Eyes flickering, mind trying to find a plan, any plan. Nothing. Empty.

A quiet laugh fills the room. “Nice to meet you too. It all could’ve been in better circumstances, but… you know, it pretty much is all on you, for what this had to come to.” His eyes rolled. “Okay, yeaah, maaaybe I could’ve spared the theatrical entrance and, well, all this.” He beckons around the room. “But you have to admit, it’s at the very least cool and freaking WORTH IT.” His last words loud, screeching, full of hurt.

Someone is rummaging in close perimeter. Someone else is in the room? How worse can this get. Y/N’s eyes wander around the room until she notices a small camera. Great. This will be recorded and kept. Though maybe it could become evidence after it’s done. Leverage to… Then a dark thought coursed through her brain. Is she getting out of this alive?

Will’s actions were swift, and well prepared. A knife exchanged the place of the scalpel in his hands. He moved quickly, the fabric covering her chest, abdomen… cut right in the middle. There’s no need to cover that flesh anymore. Not in here. After it was all shredded off, the knife dug into the skin of her neck, not stabbing, not even cutting, only held against the sweaty skin. The horror in her eyes was already paying off the tortures she incited to him throughout the years of silence.

“Not so tough and cool anymore, huh?” A spark in William’s eyes made it uncertain whether he was enjoying the therapeutic action of seeking vengeance or he was loving the torture on its own. “We’re just getting started, so don’t faint on me, I need your opinion on this.”

The mysterious someone in the room brought syringes full of different kinds of liquids. That person was wearing a mask and clear suit, careful to not leave any evidence of their presence here. “They’re all different, you won’t know their effect or what they are until you inject her with any of them. My personal concoctions of terror, if you may.” There was no need to see the face, the sly smirk could be heard in the voice.

“Wonderful.” That’s all Will had to say. And all Y/N was thinking was how did something so seemingly innocent and insignificant bring her to this nightmare.

He took away the knife from her hyperventilating body. Set it aside for now. “Eenie meenie miny moe… Ah, the blue one it is.” He took the syringe, carefully letting the air bubbles out.

His soft hand caressed her arm, tightly grabbing just below the wrist. The vein was very visible which only made the process easier. The needle was soon under Y/N's skin, pushing the burning liquid in her bloodstream. A growling scream echoed.

“So this one was the instant pain one, nice.” A proud face staring down to the girl. “Now you should be extremely sensitive to any touch, nib, or squeeze.”

With those words Will leaned down to peck her cheek, almost giving the feel of a gangster's kiss before the execution of the receiver. Or Judas’ deathly smooch. Without more foreplay he turns around to grab a soft material. Of all the choices, why something fluffy and sweet?

Y/N did not realise she did not have her clothes on anymore apart from her underwear. Will’s hands slowly lowered the cloth closer to the girl’s body. The slight touch, caressing her skin made her squirm and whine. “I told you anything will hurt. Imagine that was a knife cutting you.”

His right hand was suddenly placed around her neck. She suddenly was very aware of the nails digging into her skin. After tightening his grasp he let go and dragged his claws down along the middle causing the skin to redden and stay marked. A scream muffled by his other hand stuffing her mouth with that same cloth from before.

“This is getting a bit boring, pick a colour?” He lift up couple of syringes smiling like giving a child a choice of candies. Y/N's eyes nervously shift, a neon colour catching her gaze.

“Oh don’t worry, darling, it’s not radioactive, my friend just loves a touch of drama, I mean, not that I don’t, obviously, considering everything that you see around you.” His dark giggles send shivers down her spine. “But if you insist, we’ll try this one.”

In a blink of an eye he stabs the enormous needle right to her heart, not only setting the effect of the liquid, but also striking a shock-like reaction from the puncture alone. If she wasn’t strapped to the table, her seizure might’ve made her fall and crack her skull. Nevertheless, the fun shall carry on.

He slapped her face several times getting her mind back to her body. “Stay awake, baby, wouldn’t want you missing out.” A soft caring voice spoke coupled with a dark evil pair of eyes staring deep into her soul.

Y/N's body was uncontrollably shaking, it felt like the temperature suddenly fell tens of degrees below freezing. All she wanted was to curl up into a ball, find solace in her own embrace, get warmth. But that wasn’t an option she had.

William was busy at her tool station, picking and choosing with what to play next. It might be time for operation. He gave her anesthetics. “You will need this not to feel anything if I want you to not lose your consciousness from the agonizing pain.”

The next thing she saw was that same scalpel. She felt it gently touching her skin until she felt nothing anymore. She saw blood. Was it hers? Stupid question, who else’s could it have been? It must be hers. But she didn’t feel any pain. Her head a bit woozy, but she was fighting hard to not faint. Will unbelted Y/N’s neck for her to see what was being done to her body. Y/N lift up her head curious to know how many cuts he made. Her face froze. It wasn’t just cuts. Her abdomen was opened. Her insides presented to the outside world.

“Now let me see if you are truly missing one organ. It should have told you that what you were doing, or, well, more like not doing, was wrong. Do you have your heart, Y/N? Because I am already certain your brain doesn’t function as it should, because you didn’t realise how stupid your actions had been.” His hand reached in, maneuvering inside, feeling the warm working mechanism of the body. Soon enough he touched the rhythmical beating motor. The pace was increasing. At first, his touch was soft and mindful. Then the grasp was firm and there was a satisfaction written all over Will’s face.

“What a surprise, I found it, then, you should know now, what I want as a gift from you. It won’t cost you anything. Easy.”

Y/N’s breathing was erratic, her body being exposed was ready to shut down, she could hear her heartbeat ringing loudly in her ears. Two more seconds and she’s out cold. System’s shutdown. Darkness overtakes.

A sudden hitch of breath. A sting of mind, wakening like from a nightmare. Eyes open widely, mouth dry and sore. Y/N shivers hugging herself and rubbing her arms to regain warmth.

“It was all a dream, just a dream, calm down, Y/N…” She tries to lull herself.

Then an excruciating pain runs down the middle of her body. She curls up whining, almost crying for help. She lifts up her shirt to find stiches.

“Oh.my.fucking.god.” Her face left with horror, making her wish nothing more but a nightmare instead of the hellish reality she has to continue living with.

A lesson was taught, every action requires a reaction and no one is safe from the consequences of one’s foolishness.