#this is the first thing i did once pulling jacq

[stormy635]

Your doomed toxic yaoi sir

[puttingfingerstokeys]

a friend in need [reworked]

so here’s the OG if ye cared: The OG(tm)

I’ve added characters and koncepts. Shinnok IS in the amulet, Quan-Chi is around probably, uhh... some shit happened offscreen a la annihilation that I’m sure I can enumerate on later or whatever. Uh

Faraday Cage

Energy crackled and radiated outward, sparking off pavement, trees, vehicles, people—anything with which it came in contact. Fires had erupted all over and people were fighting them as best they could, but with little hope of relief. Destruction radiated outward in all directions from one point. At the center of that point was an angry god, grieved at great loss, enraged beyond his own ability to control.

Earthrealm could not be protected by a weak, fatherly deity; Raiden understood that now, and it scared him. His own weakness scared him. His foolishness scared him. The “justice” of the Elder Gods scared him. He would end this fight and all fights, because they, for some reason, had chosen the path of passive observation. He had to do this; there was no other way. Why did no one understand? He was singular in his purpose and not even the chosen of Earthrealm, Liu Kang, could stand in his way.

Raiden had taken his own advice, a frightful echo from a future as yet unknown, an Armageddon which killed them all, himself included. It had taken many trials and many more errors to realize his own, true meaning. 

“He must win.” 

Raiden had finally reached the conclusion that the “he” in question was not Liu Kang, Earthrealm’s chosen, but Shao Kahn, the bloodthirsty outworld dictator. Reality shivered under the threat of the merging, however, and still the Elder Gods did not step in. How far would this have to go? Did they know that Shao Kahn’s army was, even now, trampling the tenuous pact between the realms? Did they know it had been making rubble piles of Earthrealm cities for almost a decade? Did they care?

“Liu, over here!” It was Johnny Cage, long having grown from the self-absorbed jerk Liu Kang had once known. In fact, he was a father, and proud of his little girl, but right now, damn near shitting in his britches to see Raiden this way. He offered an arm and pulled Liu Kang to his feet. He and a few others were taking shelter behind a small building which shook with the march of outworld foot soldiers and presently began to flicker with a terrible energy.

Raiden had warned himself, somehow, that the merging of realms must begin, that this was the meaning of victory in his own prophetic words, for the Elder Gods to step in. Shao Kahn had begun his dark work, however, and still nothing moved, nothing in favor of the forces of light and justice, anyway. It seemed the Elder Gods had a different idea of what it meant to maintain balance.

Certainly, there had been debate at first. There was no guarantee the Elder Gods would step in to honor the ancient pact between the protector of Earthrealm and Outworld’s greedy dictator, Shao Kahn. The deal had been struck before the eyes of those gods, however, and between divinity and divine blood; it was unbreakable. What no one had anticipated was that Shao Kahn could, technically speaking, send his forces through into Earthrealm without entering himself, or even starting the merge. 

The terms of his further challenge, after having lost to the warriors of Earthrealm had been untenable, however, and so, with little debate, all kombatants under the god of thunder agreed to fight for the safety and security of their realm as a veritable army, rather than allowing their fate to once more hinge on a single battle. It had not stopped Shao Khan from taking Lao from behind and nearly snapping his neck when the behatted monk was the only one he could reach. This should have killed him, but for Raiden’s quick, skilled intervention. Even then, he realized he had been afraid that the Elder Gods would see this as blatant interference, though he had never once regretted it.

The invasion was small, at first, relatively speaking, and confined to Shang Tsung’s island, the weakest place in the fabric of reality, a sort of nexus point which connected most other realms. The Earthrealm fighters were able to contain it there, using it as a funnel, but only for so long. After that, the secret invasion began. Fortunately, the marching armies of open conquest had only made themselves apparent in the last few years or so. As the fabric of reality between realms had become thin, more thin spots had appeared, making crossing realms much, much easier. 

“Your tournament is canceled, puny god! I have rescinded my generous invitation!” Shao Kahn called, raising his great hammer to the sky as Outworld began finally to merge with Earthrealm, tearing down buildings and reconstructing them in hideous amalgams. People fled and were trampled; people stood and were gored. He would line the streets with bodies before the day was out and only Raiden stood before him. Raiden, who had fought his own, dear Liu Kang, who had defied him nearly to death.

Had he died? Was Liu Kang dead? Raiden could not see him. He could not see anything past the haze of fury clouding his vision and judgment. I have killed him, again, as it was said I always will, as I always must. The thought was errant, not his own, and he brushed it aside, focusing on Shao Kahn and the present. It was his only choice.

For Raiden, at that moment, there was only himself, the protector of Earthrealm, and Shao Kahn, the invader. The world around him had narrowed to a tunnel which saw only the vicious Kahn. His soldiers had massed around him, many of them clearly conscripts from Netherrealm. Quan-Chi had long been on the side of Shao Kahn. It had been his magic which resurrected Sindel, giving her Shang Tsung’s many souls and turning her into a maddened force of nature. She was gone now, but while she lived, she stole many an Earthrealm warrior from him and Raiden could see some of these, lined up near Shao Kahn, not least of all the revenant kryomancer, Sub-Zero. 

Meanwhile, Earthrealm’s remaining defenders did their best to regroup. Their numbers had dwindled in recent years. They were hanging on by the skin of their teeth, but only just. Everyone was exhausted and no one could remember when last they slept a whole night in a real bed. 

“He… Johnny—you should have seen his eyes,” Liu Kang gasped, slumping to his rear-end near the wall. Jacqui Briggs stooped to examine him, checking for external injuries, and wishing for a better facility in which to check for internal. She was no expert, but godly lightning probably left a nasty mark.

“I see ‘em from here, Liu, and it’s… this is fucked,” grunted the Hollywood star, handing the binoculars over to his daughter, Cassie. She shook her head.

“He said we had to let Shao Kahn win, or else the Elder Gods would never step in,” gasped Liu Kang between labored breaths. Something was definitely wrong and if it was not treated soon, it could become permanent. “They… aren’t stepping in—I knew they didn’t care about us. I…” He groaned in agony and Jacqui pushed him back down.

“Hold still, Chosen One, your guts’ve been rearranged by a pissed off god—maybe take it easy.”

“If I ‘take it easy’, we all die,” Liu Kang snapped, jaw tight. Jacqui gave him a look that suggested she would take no lip, no matter how damn chosen he was or who chose him, for that matter. She could see from the way he held himself, the way his muscles tensed and tightened, that he was going to get much worse before he got better, especially if he pushed. They might not have a choice, soon enough, but while they did, there was no point risking it.

He met her gaze—it was burning with rage and sadness—with his own. They were matched in this way, both earthrealm natives with everything and more to lose, both people who had fought, tooth and nail, against this very thing. Sitting by idly and wishing things were otherwise was not something to which either Liu Kang or Jacqui Briggs were accustomed. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, Kung Lao approached, supporting a figure between himself and Hanzo Hasashi, the Shirai-Ryu Grandmaster. Behind them trailed Takeda Takahashi, Scorpion’s pseudo son and likely successor, half-carrying Lao’s cousin, Jin. The figure between Scorpion and Kung Lao was dressed all in blue, with cracked, gray flesh. He seemed to exude chill and once they had placed him, only Grandmaster Hasashi seemed inclined, or able, to stay near him.

“Is this all that is left?” Lao’s voice was not incredulous, so much as despairing. He moved immediately toward Jacqui and Liu Kang, dropping to one knee. “Where is Princess Kitana and her force?”

Liu Kang shook his head. He explained that the last he had seen her, she was leading an auxiliary force of Shokan loyal to her and her claim to the throne, plus a few Osh-Tekk warriors, a gift from the rebellious general Ko’atal. The big man himself had been nowhere to be seen, but he was resourceful. Jade, too, had been missing, but Liu Kang assumed that if they were together, they were safe. She was much more than Kitana’s handmaiden. Their party had been split by the arrival of the irate god of thunder and Shao Kahn’s largest, most potent portal yet.

“Dad!” The three looked up suddenly at Cassie’s shout, pulled from their informal debrief. She was reaching out to an empty space where Johnny had just been standing. Before she could go after him, however, Jacqui was at her back, grasping her elbow, hard.

“No,” Jacqui hissed, “you’ll be fried—we don’t know if Raiden’s friendly anymore… if he ever was.” Cassie jerked her elbow away, but Jacqui held tight and shook her head. “I mean it, Cass. Your dad’s… gunna do what he’s gunna do, just like mine.”

With effort, she pulled Cassie back and away from the violent arcs of red lightning that were even now consuming trees and landscaping, cars, enemy soldiers, anything within the dome of the thunder god’s power—an area that was growing. Cassie hated that explanation, but not because it was foolish. Jacqui was spot on, in every way. Johnny Cage was a force of nature himself and always had been. Cassie wasn’t sure, however, that he would be enough to combat an elemental who had, in her mind, clearly gone out of his wits. 

Raiden and Shao Kahn met somewhere in the middle, just beyond the portal the Outworld emperor had opened to begin the final invasion and merging of Earthrealm to his blasted home. Still, the Elder gods did not stir.

Shao Kahn’s hammer swung mightily and met a fist that moved with swift violence. A thunderclap resounded, flattening the area and then cratering it. Neither hand nor head of hammer shattered, but that was of no consequence to Shao Kahn, who reached out and hauled Raiden forward by his collar.

The thunder god looked into the emperor’s animal eyes and neither hated nor pitied him. Raiden’s rage was beyond petty ire toward the man who had caused his beloved Earthrealm so much grief over the centuries. He would simply destroy Shao Kahn. It had become singularly simple in his eyes. He had been a fool. He would end this once and for all, for everyone, forever.

Perhaps it was the look, the nearly directionless fury which met his eyes that made Shao Kahn drop Raiden. Johnny Cage, who had worked himself much closer than was probably safe, watched from still a ways off and could not quite pinpoint what it was that had Shao Kahn backing away from the thunder god.

“It is forbidden for you to fight,” Shao Kahn warned, with more authority and sureness in his voice than it seemed he felt. “You cannot engage in Mortal Kombat! You are not mortal!” Even his minions began to back away as Raiden’s arced, red lightning crashed violently into them, disintegrating here, vaporizing there, starting fires all over. Raiden’s chest heaved with the effort of either sustaining the onslaught, or holding it back, Johnny wasn’t sure. 

On that heaving chest, Shinnok’s awful amulet pulsed with life and light, beckoning and promising strength. Raiden reached for it, but hesitated, seemingly doubting himself for the merest fraction of a second. It was in that span of time whence Shao Kahn regained his courage, approached, and swung again. This time, he would have caught the god of thunder on the chin, had it not been for the quick footwork of Johnny Cage.

This time, boots met hammer, though the clash was not so even. The force of the impact sent Johnny into the side of a building. His back hit concrete and he was certain he felt something snap, but if he gave up now, Raiden was absolutely going to do something stupid. Johnny didn’t understand Shinnok’s power, or even who and what Shinnok really was, or had been, as the case may be, but he knew an evil piece of jewelry when he saw it. Perhaps ironically, his experience in the film industry had clued him into its potency and danger, if the sickly green glow was not enough.

“Time for a scene change,” he grunted, pushing himself to his feet and spitting blood. The tang of adrenaline was on his tongue and coursing through his veins, making him hyper focus upon this detail or that, the world around him moving in slow motion. Johnny fancied he could hear Cassie screaming somewhere in the distance, but right now, his attention was on the battle before him.

“You are too weak to use that amulet on me, or anyone, thunder god,” Shao Kahn mocked, manufacturing enough bravado to satisfy his immense ego. Raiden grimaced, as if considering whether or not the man was right. He ground his teeth and once more moved to grasp Shinnok’s amulet. Shao Kahn struck again, this time with a boot.

Raiden was forced to block this with a cross before his chest and to step back. He balled one fist and surrounded it with lightning, shaking his head. “You do not know my power,” he growled, “but rest assured, Shao Kahn, you will.” Raiden discharged the lightning at Shao Kahn, who used his hammer as a ground and laughed.

“Pathetic, and weak.” Each descriptor was punctuated with a sharp wag of his finger toward Raiden’s chest and the deadly amulet which sat throbbing with energy thereupon.

“I am not weak—I am doing as I have always done. I am protecting Earthrealm.” His hand once more rose to the amulet. “Whatever that takes, I will do it.”

With his free hand, Raiden wound up a massive store of radiant, red energy and hurled it at Shao Kahn. The tyrant was thrown back mightily, taking out a score of his foot soldiers as he flew. Raiden continued forward, his pace slow, but deliberate. The troops of outworld were suddenly cowed by this display, as if their fellows being randomly vaporized had not been enough. Something had shifted, they sensed, and they began to back away. 

“You are forbidden, Raiden!” This time, Shao Kahn’s voice was laced with fear; the confidence he had earlier displayed with his first remark of this kind had evidently deserted him in the face of what Raiden had become. The deity’s hand was now resting almost lovingly, protectively covering his father’s amulet. It was as if a very small part of him still fought for his own innocence, whatever might have been left of it. 

Yes, a voice whispered, emanating from the amulet, but resounding in Raiden’s fevered mind, yes, grasp the power you have earned. With it, no one will threaten you again. Earthrealm will be safe, forever. The voice which came from the cursed object was familiar and comforting. His thoughts clung to it, to the truth of it. He had earned this power. Eons of bending to the will of the Elder Gods with no reward signaled the need for it, the deserving of its power. He only ever moved to protect Earthrealm.  

Meanwhile, Johnny had begun to close the distance between himself and the wrathful deity. He could feel his hair standing on end with the force of the red lightning radiating outward from Raiden’s body. He was tense; the actor could see that from where he was, and… Are those tears? He shook off the thought as a stray bolt vaporized a fire hydrant less than a yard from him; it burst into a geyser of city water which soon began raining down upon everyone in the vicinity.

Johnny ducked behind a bike rack, realized that was probably a poor choice of cover, and scuttled along on the ground until he found a trash bin that looked as if it was made of plastic composite, rather than anything that might conduct those wicked red arcs of enraged power. His heart was hammering a thousand miles per hour and for a moment, he wondered if that was the first sign of an electricity-induced heart attack. Maybe he had been struck and did not realize it.Thinking about the ramifications of that hurt his head, so he stopped and decided to do what he did best. 

“Now or never,” he told himself, taking a deep breath and fully expecting to be vaporized like the fire hydrant. It would be guts, however, not water spraying about, if he was lucky. Speaking of the water... too much of it, and Johnny would be zapped for sure; he was already soaked to the bone. Oh like it’s any different than what I’m about to do, he hissed internally, covering his face to keep his sunglasses dry. He needed to be able to see for this one. Johnny simply told himself that god lightning was different than the regular stuff and, in a burst of foolish energy, tossed himself around the trash bin and ran, full tilt, toward Raiden’s position. 

A wayward bolt struck his glasses, tossing them from his face and exploding stars before his eyes. Johnny stumbled and, somewhere in the distance—she sounded thousands of miles away—he thought he could hear Cassie’s voice calling his name, screaming it in raw, brutal, throat-rending panic. He prayed someone was holding her back, because if this went south, as he was almost sure it would, she would be about to fight a hurricane, armed with only a pair of pistols. 

Raiden was not going to be stopped, but Johnny felt that it was his duty to try. Liu’s shouldered too fuckin’ much already—my turn, he reasoned, forcing himself to keep going, running harder and faster than he had ever done in his life. 

Raiden had stopped his inexorable stride and Shao Kahn looked on in bewilderment as the earthrealm action star closed the gap, running directly into that deadly lightning. Shao Kahn had been so sure Johnny’s miserable back had broken against that building. There was something to be said for the tenacity of a cornered, wounded animal. The Outworld dictator considered the benefits of having stock like that in the breeding pits. If Johnny Cage lived through this, his life in Outworld would be relatively comfortable, Shao Kahn decided. 

The god turned his head, acknowledging Johnny with eyes as red as his lightning. Sure as shit, Johnny thought, noting that Raiden was, indeed, in tears, though they did not seem to be saline, as a human’s might be—they stood out, even upon his pale flesh, catching light and reflecting it like diamonds—or perhaps rubies, stained by the power of his rage. When they fell, they seemed to solidify midair. He supposed the sound they would make might be the minute clattering of diamonds or solidified quicksilver, though of course he could hear nothing through the rush of blood in his ears and the ambient roar of battle nearly-joined.

“Stop it, man!” Johnny called, reaching a hand out. Raiden still did not move, but neither did he cease his bombardment. Shao Kahn’s forces were at a standstill, watching, for once uncertain of the correct path. Some were even edging toward the portal, back to Outworld and relative safety. “Raiden—you listening to me? You don’t hafta—” 

A bolt struck him square in the chest and he dropped to his knees, eyes wide, staring with pain and fear at the man—the god—who had struck him down. Raiden seemed to shift a little at that and then to turn. Johnny had caught his attention and would have held it but for Shao Kahn’s voice. “An earthrealm fraud has halted your march, Lord Raiden—what sort of god are you?!” He urged his forces forward, but no one stirred. Shao Kahn looked around and once more met Raiden’s eyes, which were again trained upon him. The grip on Shinnok’s amulet tightened and finally, it seemed Raiden would use it. 

“No more.” 

Cassie continued to scream. Johnny could hear her now. He was coming to, realizing that he was not, in fact, dead, nor even too terribly scorched. At the last moment, evidently, the magic of his strange heritage had leapt up to protect him, but he could feel in his bones that this would not happen again. He had one chance. For Cassie, he thought, all those kids—for Liu and Lao and Sonya, for Jax, even Scorpion and Sub-Zero, and Earthrealm. His heart thudded and he started forward, first at a trot, the once more at a leaping gallop. For Raiden. 

Before the god could respond, Johnny Cage had tossed his arms around that broad, pillar-like torso. He had never realized just how big Raiden actually was, and thought perhaps he had allowed himself to retain a human size when dealing directly with them. He had to have been at least seven feet tall and change, but Johnny held tight all the same. He could feel a surge of anger and fathomless grief within his own body, as if it belonged to him, originated IN him—and it scared him. All this time, they had though Raiden was losing his mind to the desire for power, something much more understandable to a human mind. Johnny had never held tightly to the belief, having gotten to know Raiden over the years, but others, his late ex-wife included, had been downright certain.

“Christ,” he grunted, “is this what you’re feeling?” 

It was then that the Outworld dictator chose to rush them. With him leading the charge, his hordes felt renewed confidence and vigor and lunged forth as one, howling their triumph over Earthrealm. Raiden was frozen in place, but only for a moment. He seemed suddenly to come back to himself, as if he had been far away, no longer in control of his limbs or actions—certainly not of his lightning. 

He wrapped one powerful arm around Johnny, who still held him, and with the other, lashed a wide, sweeping arc of blue-white lightning across the crowd, releasing his hold on the wicked amulet to do so. Shao Kahn’s hammer protected him, but his troops were not so lucky. There was a smell of ozone and charred flesh left hanging in the air when Shao Kahn opened his eyes and straightened. 

“Send your champion to face me, then!” Shao Kahn shouted, beating his chest, his hubris seemingly undiminished. His tone, however, was just this side of desperate, and his stance was far too eager, too frantic, to regain and retain control over this place. Johnny looked to Raiden, then back to Shao Kahn. He knew what this meant. He’d been at this long enough. The challenge had been issued years ago and Raiden had, with the blessing of Earthrealm’s defenders, refused it. Now, it would be taken up.

“So you’re declaring Mortal Kombat?” Johnny was going to be absolutely clear on this one, since… god contracts and all that—or something. He wasn’t wholly certain on this point, but it seemed to be the right thing to do. Shao Kahn seemed actually to consider this. His troops were slaughtered or retreating, Raiden was placated for the time being, but who knew how long that could last? His konquest had begun unlawfully, but for the loophole of his not quite finishing the merging of realms. That would be his next step—because if there existed no Earthrealm champions to defend her, then who would stop him?

“Yes, Earthrealm clown,” Shao Kahn rumbled, slapping the handle of his great hammer on one rough palm.

“Mime, actually,” came another voice from across a few lanes of what would have been traffic. Emerging from the alley where they were taking shelter, Liu Kang led their friends, injured and whole, into the open. He was supported by a grimacing Jacqui Briggs and a relieved but concerned Kung Lao, but it was clear from Liu’s expression that “no you have ruptured organs” was not an answer he would be hearing today. Raiden’s shoulders sagged a little in relief; he had not killed Liu Kang after all. 

“Thank you, Liu—wait hang on…” Johnny narrowed his eyes at his friend. The Shaolin fighter did not respond and seemed, for a moment, not to be able to meet Johnny’s eyes. In fact, if Johnny wasn’t tripping completely, he could have sworn that the guy was blushing. Still got it, he thought, grinning. 

Before he could continue, however, Cassie broke into a gait he very much recognized as one that signaled extreme displeasure. Her face held a look of grim determination as she stomped toward her father. Johnny knew he was in for it and backed away, hands up.

“Whoa, whoa, pumpkin, easy, huh?” He looked between Shao Kahn and his daughter and realized he would rather face the Outworld tyrant. “C’mon—easy, what was your old man s’posed to do?”

“Not get fried by a pissed off god and leave me a fucking ORPHAN? MAYBE?” Her voice held an edge of hysterical panic he did not like. “Oh. Shit…” she stammered, stopping just as her path crossed Raiden’s. “I’m—sorry… I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” said the god, inclining his head toward her, “but you are not incorrect.”

Cassie was sheepish and mumbled another apology. Raiden seemed to understand her position, however, and addressed it no more. Instead, he turned his attention upon the waiting tyrant.

“When will this foolishness subside so that I can begin the konquest of your filthy realm, Raiden?!” Shao Kahn was growing impatient. “The Earthrealmer has declared Mortal Kombat and I accept, on the terms that, when I win, the merge will begin and you, pitiful servant of the Elder Gods, will stand aside and bow to their will as you have always done!”

Johnny’s jaw tightened at this hateful commentary upon Raiden’s character, but for once in his life, he held his tongue. Now was not the time to bandy words with dictators and monsters; now was the time to make them eat those words with a garnish of ball-crushing whoop-ass.

“It is my destiny to fight Shao Kahn,” Liu Kang hissed, eyeing Johnny, his gaze flinty. The hardness in his voice and tone belied the real fear that they were thwarting destiny and tempting a fate no one was equipped to handle. His eyes snapped to Raiden, then, pleading. Raiden shook his head. Jacqui echoed the movement. Even now, protesting this, Liu leaned heavily upon both people holding him up, in no condition to fight. 

“Guess it’s not, Liu—stand back and watch.” Johnny would hear no more, turning toward his opponent and shouting. “I accept your terms, Shao Kahn—winner take all.” I mean, I’m not gunna take over Outworld, but like… it sounds pretty good when I say it out loud, his fevered brain nattered.

He must win. Raiden’s own, incomprehensible words came back to him in a sickening echo he still wondered, even now, to whom his future self had been referring. He had been so sure it was Shao Kahn, but that sureness had nearly killed his chosen champion. He met Liu Kang’s furious gaze.

“By the rules of Mortal Kombat, the challenge must be taken up by the one who declared it. I am sorry, Liu Kang, but this fight indeed belongs to Johnny Cage.”

Johnny heard his name, but no more. He was focused, utterly and completely, upon Shao Kahn, who stood a few yards hence, leaning upon the head of his hammer and observing the company with such arrogance, it turned Johnny’s guts. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his head upon broad shoulders. 

“Okay big guy, you heard the god. Let’s fuckin’ go.” He dropped into a deep stance and beckoned Shao Kahn. The tyrant chuckled, the sound a raspy, hollow thing, mirthless and full of contempt and triumph for a victory he had not yet won. Kung Lao winced at the sound and whispered to his companion,

“This is insane…”

Johnny made the first move, using his distance to gain speed and launch into a combination of forceful, heavy kicks which utilized his size and the length of his legs. Shao Kahn blocked these with little effort and jabbed in return, hoping to push Johnny off balance. 

The years had made him wily and this was not the Johnny Cage that Shao Kahn remembered, so cocksure and arrogant, his insecurities showing upon his countenance like a glowing sign, pushed by his own self doubt to showboat and make light of his own skill. This Johnny was an old veteran of many ugly fights; he was vicious, clever, and quick. The fate of his world hung in the balance. He would pull no punches and playing fair wasn’t necessarily a given, either.

Using the tyrant’s momentum against him, Johnny ducked around him and launched into a hard kick to the back of Shao Kahn’s head. This, the tyrant bore with an enraged snarl, a stumble, and a wide, arcing swing of the hammer. That swing, too, Johnny dodged, spitting in his opponent’s direction. “Gunna hafta do better’n that, slugger!”

“So your arrogance has not been tempered,” Shao Kahn commented. “Good, good. That will make your defeat all the more satisfying.” He laughed viciously and swung the hammer down, shaking the ground around them. Johnny found himself out of sorts for a moment, but it was long enough for Shao Kahn to catch him up in one hand, tossing the hammer aside and plying both powerful limbs to their grim task. He lifted Johnny over his head and began to bend. “Do you see your champion, Thunder God?”

Raiden, formerly watching with a mask of impassive disinterest, was suddenly assaulted by visions of Johnny Cage, broken nearly in two, over the shoulders of this selfsame tyrant. He could hear Shao Kahn’s triumphant laugh, the horrified scream of Sonya Blade, the heartbroken, barely-audible moan of Liu Kang. As he blinked, the entire scene flashed behind his eyes and, without thinking, he stretched forth one hand and fired a bolt of pure, blue-white lightning.

With a single shot, Raiden, god of thunder and protector of Earthrealm, ended it all. 

Shao Kahn was vapor, dust in the light breeze that had begun to pick up. Johnny hauled himself to his feet, heart hammering once more, and looked between the two. Shao Kahn had been mere moments from snapping him in half, powerful hands crushing him wherever they reached, his back beginning to feel the strain of the Outworld dictator’s prodigious strength when, all at once, it was over and he was on the ground. 

Coughing, brushing off, and reorienting himself, Johnny’s only thought was for the thunder god and he rushed back to where Raiden stood, staring, shocked (there was a pun here someplace), at his own hand, as if he had never before seen it. The amulet, curiously, remained upon his chest, unused, bearing no mark of having been harnessed.

“I…” Raiden stammered as Johnny reached him. The others watched the pair, who had sunk to the ground together, Johnny’s rough hands finding either side of Raiden’s face. They were murmuring—mostly Johnny, in point of fact—and no one was sure if they should get close. 

Liu Kang directed them away and gestured that they ought to start dealing with the portal, which was still open and continuing its inexorable work. He hoped, silently, that the Elder Gods actually did decide to step in, because he was no sorcerer, nor was he a god and could not see himself becoming either in the near future.

Across the expanse of what had become the field of kombat, Kung Lao and Jacqui spotted Kitana, Jade, and a limping Ko’atal. They were followed by a few singed Shokan and some Osh-Tekk, bruised and battered, but alive. Kitana raised a hand and Jacqui returned the salute, made a brief gesture to the murmuring pair, and then to Liu Kang, still suspended between herself and Kung Lao.

“Hey,” Johnny hissed, “it’s okay—it’s gunna be fine… You finished it. It’s—”

“It is not over, Johnny Cage,” responded the god, eyes downcast. “I have upset the balance; the Elder Gods will be furious. The consequences—”

“Seriously,” Johnny interrupted, “fuck the Elder Gods—what’ve they done for us, huh?” Raiden’s eyes opened wide at these words of blasphemy and he reached out to grasp the lapels of Johnny’s vest.

“You know not of what you speak, Johnny Cage,” warned Raiden. Johnny hated that fearful look on Raiden’s face. It was foreign and wrong and did not belong there under any circumstances. Johnny scowled deeply.

“I know a thing or three about shit parents… Listen, this whole… fatherhood thing, y’know, it blows sometimes—no offense Cass; I love ya pumpkin—and it’s… like a never-ending cavalcade of horseshit, nonsense, and doubt.” He shook his head. “I had ONE. I can’t imagine being the… like, dad of a whole-ass world…realm… thing.” Pursing his lips, Johnny searched for his next words, choosing them carefully. “We spend our whole damn lives worrying and wondering if we did all we could—if we fucked up somewhere along the way and if that… y’know, if it caused more pain than it should’ve, or… more than we knew at the time, or could ever know.” He sighed. “And yeah, it’s gunna do that—it will do that. You’re going to hurt your kids and sometimes meaning well isn’t the be-all, end-all… the ends don’t always justify the means and all that shit, except when they do… But the bottom line here is that a good parent does THAT, y’know, looks back and… worries… about the process. Getting there ain’t always half the fun, big guy—and frankly, whoever-the-fuck got you here, where you are right now? They’re not the good kinda parents. Just sayin’.”

Raiden looked as if he had never been told that the Elder Gods were poor parental figures. He looked as if he had never considered them parents at all, which Johnny supposed made sense, since they weren’t exactly physical beings or whatever, but sometimes, one had to wonder at the “my ways are higher than your ways” explanation. 

He, still holding either side of Raiden’s face, pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “We’re gunna be all right, man—I promise. I… we… no one’s gunna let anything happen to you—or Earthrealm, or whatever.” He had clearly run out of words, for the time being

“Thank you, Johnny Cage,” whispered Raiden solemnly. “Your faith and fair words mean more to me than you can know.”

“Ah, one more thing, though.” Evidently, Johnny was not completely out of words. “Just… Just Johnny, please? Whenever I hear the whole thing, I kinda assume I’m in deep shit—y’really don’t wanna go there with a god… ‘specially not the kind who can do… y’know, what you just did.”

Raiden regarded what he had just done very carefully, then regarded Johnny. This, he supposed, was a request he could grant, but it felt strange, not addressing him that way.

“If I am correct, then we are, all of us, in ‘deep shit’.”

“Lord Raiden,” Liu Kang called, hobbling toward them having escaped, temporarily, his captors. “Forgive me, but that portal isn’t closing itself and I…”

Raiden shook his head and stood, grasping Johnny’s hands and pulling the man with him. “I will make this right,” he promised, stepping away from the mortals and lifting into the air. Once more, energy crackled all around, but it bore the tranquil, blue-white glow that they were accustomed to seeing. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at that.

Cassie approached her father slowly. He seemed dazed. She could have slapped him, but she wasn’t sure that wouldn't trigger some kind of heart attack. Johnny’s eyes were wide, fixed on the hovering thunder deity. 

“You ah… okay, dad?”

“I don’t… I dunno, kid. I’m not sure. But he is… and right now, that’s kinda what we need.”

[awkward-bookworm-amber]

At the Brink of the End

Hi everyone! This story is an old collaboration between me, loopydroop, and two of our English classmates. Obviously, we’re all more mature writers now, but I find it interesting to see and reflect on our old works. You can find loopydroop’s blog here. So read on and have fun!

“Brring! Brring!” The bell rang loud and clear. Leo rushed out of history class, his least favorite subject. He rummaged through his bag for his phone. When he looked up, he saw Jacquelyn jumping joyfully over to her usual spot by their english class. Leo and Jacq went way back, all the way to preschool. Even as freshman in high school, they still hung out together at lunch. Leo made his way through the busy crowd to Jacq, who had sat down on a bench.

Jacq was going through Leo’s social media posts, particularly his selfies.

“Hey, Jacq.” Leo said, sitting down next to her. “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” Jacq snapped, hiding her phone’s screen in her lap. Her cheeks turned bright red against her fair skin. She relaxed before speaking again. “I was doing nothing. Just...scrolling through Instagram. What are you up to?”

“Not much.” Leo sighed. “Lacrosse tryouts are today. Other than that, my schedule’s empty.”

“Great! I hope you make the team.” Jacq smiled.

“Beep!” Leo’s phone exclaimed. What’s so important? I have my phone on silent! Suddenly, Jacq’s phone beeped too. Everyone’s phone beeped, and the whole school went silent. Then, the campus erupted into chaos. Leo and Jacq just stared into their screens at the notification which had reached every single phone:

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. NUCLEAR ATTACK WARNING. SEVERITY: EXTREME. CERTAINTY: HIGH. AFFECTED AREAS: WORLDWIDE. RESPONSE TYPE: SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER.

Jacq gasped. “What caused this!?” Her eyes were fearful as she turned to Leo. Leo had already stood up to rush along with the others into the nearest classroom. He grabbed Jacq’s hand and pulled her up. Tears began to run down her face as they neared their english classroom.

Before they entered, Leo stopped and turned to her. “Listen, I need you to come and fix this with me.”

“What do you mean? How can we fix this?” Jacq was already torn apart.

“Just trust me!” Leo partially shouted. Suddenly, he hugged her, wrapping his arms tightly around her small body. A tear rolled off of Jacq’s cheek and onto Leo’s black sweatshirt. Then, the chaos faded into the background, and soon disappeared. When Jacq opened her eyes, she was still hugging Leo, and still crying. However, the landscape was different. She was on the sidewalk just outside her house, and the sun was about four hours away from disappearing behind the Santa Clara County Jail. Jacq stood there in complete shock.

“What...happened?” Jacq managed to say. She pulled away from Leo.

“We time traveled, Jacq,” Leo stated. “and I can’t believe it worked.”

“What do you mean? How’s this possible? Time travel?”

“Don’t ask questions, okay? We can’t waste any time.” Leo grabbed her hand and ran up the street to his house. When they reached the garage door, he threw his hand into his pocket, and then unfolded a crumpled sticky note. He quickly entered the garage code, and the screech of metal against metal hurt Jacq’s ears. Leo stepped inside and pointed to a dark blue bike. “Hop on that one. I’ll take my brother’s.”

“Where are we going?” Jacq asked, throwing her body over the seat.

Leo tossed her a black helmet, which she adjusted to fit her small head. “Don’t ask questions, just follow.” He mounted his brother’s bike and strapped on a helmet before riding out into the street. Jacq reluctantly followed.

After around a half-an-hour ride across downtown, the teens came to a stop in front of barren-looking government property. The building was unmarked.

“Where are we?” Jacq asked.

“The Nuclear Control Center. It controls every nuclear plant in the world.”

“I never knew that was in San Jose.”

“Neither did I until a few weeks ago.” Leo parked his bike against a pole and left his helmet on the seat. Jacq did the same. Leo walked up to the door, and waited for Jacq to catch up before grasping the handle.

The door was stuck shut. “Honestly Jacq, I have no idea why I thought we could just prance into the worldwide nuclear control center without stumbling on some sort of security!” Leo, of all people, was losing hope. But he still attempted it. He flung his pitch black backpack off of his back and started to dig right away. “No, no, no!” He threw things out of his backpack like a raccoon going through a trash can for something good. “Aha!” He finally found his shiny, new screwdriver.

Jacq watched him in awe. She paid attention to all the small details: the reflection of the steel door on his brown eyes, the wide grin he wore when he achieved something big. She found it… slightly attractive. No. She didn’t.

Leo jammed the screwdriver in the lock in an effort to disable it. Every now and then, he looked at Jacq, who gave him a nod of approval. After a few tries, the door made a ‘click’ sound and swung open. Standing inside was a surprise they least expected.

“Welcome to your end, children!” President Crudo, the actual president of the United States of America, stood inside the building with roughly a dozen men flanking him. He looked elated. Jacq and Leo immediately noted him as someone not to mess with. But why was he here? Why now? “I was hoping I would have some rivalry. You know, it’s no fun destroying the world if it’s an easy task. Although I will admit, two children finding a way into this place is not what I had in mind.”

Jacq and Leo threw each other nervous glances. Unlike the president, they just wanted to get this over with. Why couldn’t it be easy for once? Then Leo took a big risk. He quickly pulled out a map of the building and chucked his backpack at the president square in the face. He then had dodged the president’s bodyguards, who made multiple attempt to grab him, and pulled Jacq into the left hallway. “Jacq, there’s no time,” Leo rushed through his words. He had to confess, he just had to.

“Leo What’s going on, what are you going to do?” Jacq choked on sobs. Her eyes were emeralds filled with worry, and looking at them made Leo want to cry to.

“Listen, I’ll tell you the truth, but you have to let me do this.”

“Do what? Leo please, if you put yourself at risk to save me-”

“Shhhh.” Leo gently put his finger in front of her mouth as a gesture of silence. They could slightly hear the footsteps of their enemies and could not afford to compromise their location. Not now. “I’m not a normal person, Jacq,” he whispered, “I have a power that no one could even possibly have. I can time travel just by thinking about it. Usually not more than four hours, but this time I took a chance. It was an emergency.”

Jacq’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. Not only because he gained amazing abilities, but because he told her. Suddenly, she wanted to do the same thing. But they could not take their sweet time. “How did you…”

“I was trying to figure out the theory of relativity in my garage and, well, I guess things just... happened.”

“Wow.” Jacq appreciated their friendship more than ever.

“Jacq, they’re going to find us. We have to hurry. We’re sitting right by an emergency exit. I want you to take it, run as far away from here as you can, and don’t look back.”

“Leo, what-”

“Just do it.” He was determined. If his plan worked and Jacq made it out, his sacrifice would not be in vain.

“Leo, I need to tell you something.” Jacq was shaking, both of cold and sadness.

“Jacq, we’re out of time.” The footsteps on the stone floor were loud now.

“I know, just one more thing.” She stood on her tippy-toes and kissed him on the forehead. When she pulled away, she saw a single tear on Leo’s cheek. She slowly wiped it away and studied his face, copying every detail and saving it to a file in her brain that she would never delete. She pulled in even closer until they shared their breath.

Leo felt something build up in his chest, a flood that was on the verge of breaking his mental dam. He loved her and he knew it. He always had, from the moment he first met her. And then she confirmed it. It the softest, most beautifully delicate voice, she said “I love you.” And she was gone. She did what he had asked. Now he had to finish it. He ran down the hallway, away from the footsteps, at full speed. From one corridor to the next, until he found the secure vault he was looking for, his only thought was: I’m doing this for you, Jacq. It was already open. Maybe President Crudo wanted to guard it himself, or stay near it in case something went wrong. For once, that horrible person did something helpful. Leo approached the big switch that was inside the vault. He knew a kill switch when he saw one. “Be safe, Jacquelyn.” And with that, he pulled it down.

Jacq was probably about five miles away when she stopped following the directions Leo had set out for her. When she heard it, she had to. She stopped in her tracks and froze. She wanted to believe the explosion wasn’t from the building Leo was in. No such luck. When she finally turned around, she saw a mushroom cloud in the place of the nuclear control center. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. All she could do was weep and scream his name. “Leo! Oh no, Leo. Please be alive. You have to be alive.” She knew their plan had succeeded, but was this really what she was willing to pay? She walked over to Leo’s bike, the one he had let her ride, and sat down with it in her lap. As she let the tears leave her, they fell onto the glossy blue of the handle. She didn’t care about what happened to her at this point, for she had already lost part of her soul.

As tears rolled down her eyes, Jacq felt her heart slowing down. The spark for Leo began to break-not in anger, but from sadness. Jacq had never felt this way for someone. She had always thought she would never find love. But then she felt something for Leo.

“Now, he’s gone. There's no bringing him back.’’ Jacq said, feeling a flood of tears about to burst from her eyes. “What am I going to do without him? Is there even a purpose to live? I just want him back!” she exclaimed. “Please…?” she said quietly. The smoke reflected on Jacq’s glazed green eyes. She couldn’t bear looking at the explosion. She could almost feel Leo’s presence around her.

Jacq sat correctly on the bike and rode off into the distance. She thought about what had just happened, still processing that Leo was dead. She thought about the memories with him. She thought about the day they went to a hiking trail and there were snakes near the edge. Jacq was screaming in terror and Leo saved the day. He carried her all the way till the end of the trail. Even though he was exhausted, he carried her anyway.

Maybe I should go to Leo’s home and tell his family the news. I don't know..should I? What if it’s dangerous? I mean, I don't know if there’s anyone following me. She thought. Jacq looked around to see if there was anyone. Oh who am I kidding? This is Leo we are talking about. The one person I ever loved.

Jacq rode down the hill. She looked up to see the bright blue sky. It felt like none of this even existed. Her olive green shirt was ripped up and her white jeans were smudged black with dust all over them. As the wind blew, ashes flew out of her hair.

After a while, Jacq reached his home. She saw the garage open and Leo’s dad cleaning his car in front of it. Jacq got off the bike and walked to him.

“Hey, kid! what’s up? Where’s Leo? And..what happened to your clothes? Let's get you inside and cleaned up.’’ he said. Mr. Kim put a blanket over her and walked inside the garage. But before he could reach the inside, Jacq grabbed his arm.

Jacq felt her eyes filling up with tears.“Mr. Kim…” Tears rolled off her face and onto the driveway. “Leo’s gone…!” she said. Her voice cracked as she cried. His light brown eyes filled with tears as well.

“Wh-what do you mean he’s gone?” he said softly.

“He’s DEAD!” she cried. The tears danced down his eyes as he took her inside. There, Leo’s mom was scrubbing the walls.

Leo’s mother was cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. There was paint everywhere. All the colors you can imagine were painted on the walls. As her sponge squeezed soap out, the liquid dripped down the walls. Mrs. Kim looked at the two of them crying and questioned them. She put aside the sponge and walked up to them. Her black short heels clicked as she walked toward them. She removed her apron and hung it up.

“What happened? Oh my God, is everything okay?” she asked. Her hazelnut-grey eyes watered up as she heard the news. She dropped the cleaning spray and fell to the floor when a little girl came out of the hallway.

“Mama! Come pla-” Mrs. Kim took the little girl’s hand.

“Go pack up your toys sweetie. I will explain later.” she spoke to her child.

“Wh-where are you going?” Jacq asked.

“We are leaving town. I think we need a fresh start. We will come back when we are ready.” Mr. Kim said to her. “We were planning to go for a month with Leo, but I think we might stay there permanently. I’m sorry.”

“Bu-but wha-”

“Go to your parents now Jacq.” Mrs. Kim said to Jacq in the softest voice.

Before she left, she noticed a small machine broken on the floor. Jacq walked up to it and picked up the pieces. She looked around the garage to see if there was anymore pieces. The grey metal walls had some papers of space and information on there. She stood on the washing machine and grabbed all the papers. Jacq took a glance through the papers and flipped one over. The words read:

My best friend Jacq, I know one day you will be reading this. These are papers about my theory on relativity. I challenge you to finish my theory, even if I’m not there. I love you.

Without hesitation, Jacq took the papers, grabbed the bike, and left.

Back into future, where the systems were supposed to go off, Jacq felt like she was nothing without Leo. He was one of the only people that actually cared about her, and has supported with her throughout preschool, elementary, and junior high and now he’s was gone.

Head down in despair, Jacquelyn whispered to herself, “Oh great. Leo is gone and now I have to work toward creating something that no human had even thought of designing.”

“Well then, challenged accepted. This is for you Leo.”

Without hesitations, Jacq started to work on creating something that was going to be impossible to make, possible. With all the encouragement from Leo, she started on the impossible invention, in the garage of course.

[josselinkohl]

murder!Laurent the sequel - part 1

So this next fic requires some extensive background reading.

Back when @nikanndros was writing Weighed and Measured, I had a lot of thoughts about the original Laurent of that world. (He’s called murder!Laurent.)

My thoughts about murder!Laurent grew into a fic called Your Majesty.

But I didn’t stop thinking about murder!Laurent, and I wanted him to take all of his new experiences from Your Majesty back to his original world, so that grew into a new fic, creatively called “murder!Laurent the sequel”.

murder!Laurent the sequel is becoming quite a long fic, and also I’m using it to bribe @nikanndros to write faster. Here is the first part of it so you can all enjoy and encourage @nikanndros to write more. Hahahahhahaah.

Laurent had spent a week in the other world, most of which had been spent in bed. It had been a honeymoon of sorts, he had come to understand, celebrating the coronation of himself and his co-King, Damianos of Akielos. They had arranged for the two of them to retreat to their summer palace for some time alone after the coronation ceremony and the official uniting of the two kingdoms. From the way others spoke about it, it had been the culmination of years of work by the other Laurent, and a well deserved respite.

When Laurent returned to his own world, he determined that only a few hours had passed, but to him, it felt like a lifetime. Everything felt different. His hair was long again, after he had worn it shorter in the other world, and his shoulder no longer had a mysterious scar on it. But he no longer felt that he knew himself.

He sent Henri and Etienne away when they came to pass the evening with him, and instead spent time alone in his rooms, thinking of Damianos. The other Laurent was likely not alone. The other Laurent was probably in bed being held by his husband. Laurent felt uncomfortably aware of his own physicality. He was more cognizant of his clothes than he was usually, and the discomfort of the ruff of lace at his neck and the tightness of his corset. He ran his hands down his thighs and felt the nap of the fabric against his hands and against his thighs.

He drank most of a bottle of wine and felt what it was doing to him, physically, the looseness in his muscles, the warmth of his skin, the buzz in his head. He felt turned on. He identified with some surprise that he felt as though he wanted to be touched. He wished that Damianos were here with him, in bed with him.

He did not wish the inconvenience and vulnerability of searching out a suitor, but it had been convenient to emerge into Damianos’s bed with the hard part of wooing the man already done.

The following day, Henri tried to corner him again at breakfast, and Laurent sent him away a second time. At lunch, he observed Auguste trying to only eat the dishes that Laurent was eating, again, and while that usually annoyed him, today he felt like he could hardly bother to feel anything about it. Laurent watched one of the pet performances with atypical interest.

The evening meal came, and Laurent looked around the court, inspecting the men present with a new eye. He looked them over one by one. The first was too short, the second too thin. The third was too old. The fourth had an unkempt beard. The fifth Laurent did not care for, though he could not articulate clearly to himself what was wrong with the man. Halfway through the second table of courtiers, Laurent’s eyes lingered on one of the men. His name was Georges, Laurent thought. He was one of Auguste’s supporters, a minor nobleman from the east and a swordsman. He and Auguste trained together, sometimes. In the past, Laurent had only bothered to speak to him once or twice, to suss out his loyalties, and when he had been unwaveringly Auguste’s Laurent had not bothered further.

Laurent let his eyes linger on Georges throughout the meal. As dessert was served, Georges noticed his stare. Georges met his gaze, looked at him curiously, and then broke their eye contact to speak with the woman sitting next to him. She looked up curiously at Laurent next, so Laurent presumed that he had said something like, “Has the Prince been staring at me all night?”

Georges and the woman conversed, briefly, and then Georges met Laurent’s eyes again, and then lowered his gaze to his plate. Laurent could feel Auguste’s gaze heavy on him, as usual, and ignored it.

After the meal, there was some music. Laurent refilled his goblet and made his way across the room. He stood in front of Georges and felt for a moment that perhaps he might not have to say anything, and then the silence drew out too long. “Would you care to join me in the garden?” said Laurent.

It was the same type of invitation he might have made for a private conversation to figure out a man’s loyalties, though the different purpose he had in mind made the words feel different on his tongue. He felt keenly aware that he had never done this before, and he disliked his own ignorance.  

“Of course, your highness,” said Georges, and Laurent turned and walked out to the gardens, hearing Georges’s boots echo on the marble behind him.

Laurent led them to a relatively private corner of the gardens. He could hear the music from the hall only faintly, here. Georges came to stop a few steps from Laurent, and Laurent took a step closer to him, deliberately. Georges was taller than he was, and when Laurent was close to him he had to tilt his head back slightly to look Georges in the eye.

“Would you like to come back to my chambers?” said Laurent. It felt both oblique and too obvious.

Georges looked him over, which Laurent tolerated. Georges must already know how he looked, but Laurent was vain enough to know that his appearance was only an advantage in this.

Georges agreed, and after only a moment in the garden, Laurent had turned again and was leading them to his bedroom. This was easier than he had anticipated.

Once they were there, Laurent set his goblet down on a side table and turned to look at Georges. Georges seemed to be waiting for Laurent to say something, or to do something. That was not what Laurent wanted.

“Show some initiative,” said Laurent, and Georges looked slightly perturbed by this but took a step closer to him and began to unlace Laurent’s jacket.

The encounter was unsatisfactory. Georges touched him too hesitantly, and he smelled wrong. He was attentive to Laurent’s pleasure, but the finish felt far off and Laurent began to wonder how long this could go on.

After some time, Laurent said finally, “Enough.”

Georges sat up, looking uncertain.

“You’re dismissed,” said Laurent, and Georges gathered up his clothing and left.

Laurent lay back on his bed, still feeling the same pervasive dissatisfaction that he had since his return from the other world.

He felt less than he thought he would. When he did not habitually do it, inviting someone to his bed had felt significant, somehow. Had felt like it would mean something to him, or have significance, or leave him feeling tender or vulnerable.

Then Damianos had left him feeling all of those things, and obsessed with sex besides.

But now Laurent felt very little. He felt no different than he had before he had invited Georges to his rooms. Georges touching him had not changed who he was, or made him different than he had been before.

The next day he let his gaze travel over other men at the evening meal. Georges being inadequate did not mean there was no one, Laurent told himself. He selected a man called Francis, that evening, though Francis turned out to talk too much. Laurent thought that perhaps this could be remedied by instructing Francis to suck his cock, but Francis had an appalling habit of pulling off to continue talking, and once again Laurent sent him away.

The following night, he extended an invitation to the Patran ambassador, a man called Horace. There was something promising in the authoritative way that Horace clasped his arm, Laurent thought, but Horace had unpleasant facial hair.

By the end of the week, Laurent’s new habits were causing a stir in the court. He was always on display, as a Prince, and who a Prince took to bed was always of note. Laurent had developed a reputation as a celibate Prince, also, so his sudden streak of lovers was more notable than the usual gossip. And one of the men had been indiscreet, too, so there were rumors circulating now that Laurent was impossible to satisfy.

The rumors themselves must have generated a different type of attention, because the following week a man approached him. He was not a courtier who would have caught Laurent’s eye in his gaze over the room, being a bit older, but he found Laurent in the garden and said, “I heard you are looking for someone who can satisfy you,” and the tone of his voice as he said this caused Laurent to look again.

“And you think you can?” said Laurent.

The man took a step closer to him. Laurent felt a flutter of interest in his stomach. “I’m Jacqs,” said the man.

Jacqs was clearly intent on proving himself in their encounter, and Laurent liked this attitude. He closed his eyes and imagined someone else, but the firmness of Jacqs’s grip was satisfactory, and Laurent liked the way Jacqs repositioned him on the bed without asking first.

Jacqs took Laurent into his mouth, first. Laurent could tell, objectively, that Jacqs knew all of the strategies of how to perform fellatio. He had made the same sort of study of it that Laurent had himself, and Laurent could watch Jacqs exercise the strategies as though the experience were happening to someone else.

After some time, Laurent said, “That’s enough of that,” and rolled onto his stomach as a cue for what he wished next. He was only half-hard, but he had bored of Jacqs’s mouth.

Jacqs’s fingers bored him also, and Laurent said, “Get on with it,” after the second finger, but Jacq’s cock was not all that much more interesting than his fingers. It occasionally brushed interestingly inside of him, but not reliably, and Jacqs made a very unattractive grunting sound as he fucked Laurent.

Laurent considered this for a few minutes. At first he thought, perhaps this will get better. Then he thought, well, this cannot go on for much longer. Finally, he thought, this is ridiculous, and he shifted to cause Jacqs to slip out of him and he said, “We are finished here.”

“But we haven’t--” Jacqs gestured between the two of them, indicating the lack of climax.

“Was I unclear?” said Laurent, and raised an eyebrow and glared until Jacqs gathered his clothing and left.

Laurent tried, next, to purchase time with one of the older pets, Vauquelin. Laurent choose Vauquelin because he had a discreet reputation, a pet who had bought out his contract many years prior but had made it clear he was willing to indulge a lover who would offer the correct gifts. Laurent was able to offer an amenable gift.

There was no pretense of mutual satisfaction. Laurent could direct Vauquelin as he pleased, and Vauquelin agreeably continued what he was doing or changed it at Laurent’s direction. He accepted both specific directions and general ones, equally agreeable whether Laurent explained exactly how he wished for his chest to be touched or if he said more broadly, “I wish for you to lead.”

Yet it was still not satisfactory. Vauquelin did not comment on Laurent’s loss of arousal mid way through their encounter, but Laurent himself felt keenly aware of it. Vauquelin suggested toys, and the pleasure objects he produced were interesting, but Laurent found them no more useful than Vauquelin’s mouth.

“No more,” Laurent said finally, and dismissed Vauquelin, and was not inclined to try the experiment again.

A delegation from Akielos arrived.

Laurent watched Auguste greet the Crown Prince of Akielos heartily, as though the two countries were not consistently on the verge of war, and Auguste welcomed Damianos and his entourage to Arles. Auguste showed off the palace and its finery, and Laurent watched from a distance with his goblet.

At the welcome banquet, Laurent’s eyes stayed focused on the Crown Prince. Things that Laurent had forgotten about his week in the other world were coming back to him. The exact curl of Damianos’s hair on his forehead, the crease in his brow when he struggled with an unfamiliar Veretian word.

Auguste drew up beside Laurent’s chair. “Laurent,” he said.

“Brother,” said Laurent.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” said Laurent, spreading his arms innocently. He was doing nothing. He was seated at the welcome banquet as expected, he had not been rude to the visitors, and if he had overindulged in wine that was hardly even considered a fault among royalty.

Auguste retreated, frowning.

Laurent continued staring at Damianos. He motioned for a servant to refill his goblet.

Auguste and his steward had arranged for Laurent to be seated on Auguste’s right and Damianos and the Akielon contingent on Auguste’s left, which was probably intended to keep Laurent from spreading seditious rumors among the visiting royalty, but had the consequence of making it difficult for Laurent to watch Damianos surreptitiously during the meal. He had a view via a mirror on the opposite end of the hall, if he wanted to regard the high table and Damianos in reverse, or he had to angle himself obviously to look down the table past his brother. There was no way to be subtle.

Laurent spent the first course using the mirror, and then as the servants refilled goblets for the main course Laurent decided he no longer cared about being subtle, and turned himself more obviously.

Auguste and Damianos were making conversation in Veretian about sports, which meant that their words seemed vaguely suggestive even though neither of the two of them intended it that way. Laurent smiled to himself.

Auguste leaned Laurent’s direction again, and said, “Laurent,” with a warning tone to his voice.

“What have I done?” said Laurent.

Auguste couldn’t name a specific offense. “You are planning something.”

Laurent shrugged. “You have told me that my plans are ill conceived and lacking, so I am sure that you have nothing to worry about.”

“This relationship with Akielos is very important to us,” said Auguste, which was the beginning of a lecture Laurent had heard many times before, about how he did not wish for their country to go to war, which was supported with several lines of argument, one moral, one financial, and one about Laurent’s specific lack of interest in military arts.

“I have nothing against Akielos,” said Laurent.

Auguste looked dubious.

“In fact, I was just thinking that I should take an interest.”

Auguste’s expression changed from dubious to suspicious.

“Excuse me,” said Laurent, in Akielon. It wasn’t a language he’d extensively studied, and Auguste knew that, but Laurent had learned a few phrases during his week in the other world, and annoying his brother was always a good reason to show off.

Laurent rose from his chair, bent to grasp his goblet and carry it with him, and crossed the dais to stand next to Damianos.

“Prince Damianos,” said Laurent.

Damianos obligingly turned in his chair to face where Laurent was standing behind him.

“Prince Laurent,” said Damianos. He pronounced Laurent’s name with a slight accent, which was different from the Damianos in the other world. Well, they had only just met here, Laurent supposed. “It’s so kind of you to welcome us to Vere.” Damianos spoke Veretian well, just as he had in the other world.

Laurent drank from his goblet and decided to get right to the point. “I would like for you to fuck me,” he said, exercising another of the phrases he had learned in Akielon.

Damianos blinked. “Ah,” he said, still speaking Veretian. “Let me introduce you to my lover, Nikandros.” He gestured to the Akielon man sitting next to him.

Laurent turned to take in the man sitting next to Damianos, and let his gaze travel from the man’s head down his body slowly. He had similar features to Damianos, and their skin tone was both characteristic of southern Akielos. His build was similar to the Crown Prince also, both of them were clearly athletic men who enjoyed sports. He was dressed simply in draped linen as the Prince was, and he was looking back at Laurent warily. Laurent thought he seemed vaguely familiar from his time in the other world. One of Damianos’s companions there, though in the other world there had been no mention of him as a lover.

Still, Laurent knew from books that monogamy was not especially important to Akielons. He drew his gaze back from Nikandros to Damianos.

“He can watch,” said Laurent.

Laurent flattered himself that Damianos looked tempted, tempted enough that he shot a glance past Laurent to see Auguste’s reaction. Laurent could not see his brother from this angle, but Auguste was probably not encouraging. Next to Damianos, Nikandros also did not look encouraging.

“Perhaps you have had too much to drink,” said Damianos, offering a polite excuse.

Laurent drank again from his goblet deliberately. “I have not,” he said.

Damianos’s lover spoke up. “In Akielos, we only sleep with men who can walk in a straight line along the floorboards.”

Laurent looked at Nikandros. “I suspected you were not particular.”

Laurent could have easily walked in a straight line along one of the cracks in the wooden floor of the hall, but there was nothing interesting about doing that. Instead, Laurent set his goblet down on the table next to Damianos, and then hopped up to stand in the middle of the table.

Damianos was watching him, almost everyone in the hall was watching him now. Auguste was saying his name and probably about to begin some kind of boring lecture on princely behavior. Laurent ignored him and looked up, gauging the distance between his spot on the top of the table and the balcony over the dais. He thought he could probably jump and reach it, and so he vaulted for it and managed to get a strong grip on the bottom of the balcony, and then used his upper body to pull himself up to stand on the outside of the balcony railing.

The whole hall was agog. “Laurent,” said Auguste, louder.

Laurent continued to ignore his brother. Instead, he stepped over the balcony railing, went to the edge of the balcony and used the wall there to step up on top of the railing, testing the give of the wood of the railing and the best way to balancy on top of it while wearing his boots.

Finding his balance, he stretched out his arms and walked easily on the railing from one side of the balcony to the other.

On the other side, he rested one hand on the wall and turned himself around so that he could look down to see Damianos once again.

“My bedroom is that way,” he said, pointing, and then he hopped off of the railing onto the balcony, and left the hall behind him all abuzz.

[charmed-henry]

What Am I Defending Now? | Oneshot

Date: 20 March 2020 For context: I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before Warnings: Henry crying :(

Feeling lost after his confrontation with Eric, Henry reaches out to someone familiar.

Eric disappeared out the door as the thing Henry almost said died in his throat. He didn’t even know what it was. Maybe he had just wanted an excuse for Eric to stay longer. Because he knew that, once he was gone, he would not be back. Before, Henry had believed he could ignore the lines that were drawn in the sand. Now, he knew they were impenetrable. Eric had his choice. And Henry had his.

That was part of the reason Henry was unraveling, pacing around his room as those angry tears that had threatened the entire conversation started to fall. But there was another, too. For a brief moment in time, Henry had thought about apologizing. He had thought about joining Eric, abandoning everything he believed to follow him down his dark, traitorous path. And that was the most terrifying thought of all.

He needed to get his head on straight. He needed someone to remind him why he was here. He couldn’t bother Rose-- she had too much going on with the Huntsclan. He couldn’t bother the Trio, because he was still on probation, and Florian didn’t know about Eric. Henry needed to talk to someone, though. Badly. And so, in the tradition of the youngest child up against an obstacle he could not conquer, Henry sunk to his floor, pulled out his phone, and dialed his eldest sister’s number. 

“Henry?” Jacqueline sounded surprised.

Henry was quiet for a moment, because he knew what would happen if he started talking. And then it happened anyway. 

“Jacq, I--”

Loud, ugly, unmanly sobs crawled up Henry’s throat, the kind of sound he never let anyone hear except his sisters. 

“Henry!” Jacqueline said sharply. “Henry, what happened? Where are you?”

This was why Henry called Jacqueline instead of Dad or Mum or Augusta. Dad would tell him to stop crying. Mum would have MI6 at his door in sixty seconds. Augusta would probably start crying, too. But Jacqueline, the levelheaded eldest daughter she always was, was nothing if not practical. 

“I’m-- I’m fine,” Henry said, catching his breath. “It’s Eric. Eric Anderson.”

She softened, though her tone was a bit awkward. “Oh... Henry, is it the anniversary, or--”

Henry shook his head, even though Jacqueline couldn’t see him. “No. No. He’s-- he’s not dead, Jacq.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“What?”

And so Henry launched into the whole story. The whole awful story. How Eric had found him when he first arrived at Pride University, how they had worked together to try to find the lake monster. How the Trio’s coldness wasn’t just because of Henry’s probation, it was because Henry had lied to them about Eric. How Eric was leaving the Order-- had left the Order. How Henry had stolen his books, the trap in the lake, tampered with, and finally, the confrontation that just happened. 

He didn’t mention the mermaid, though. If he felt one shred of remorse in what Henry was doing by telling Jacqueline... he didn’t want to put Eric’s friend in any more danger.

"...Please don’t tell anyone,” Henry whimpered pathetically at the end of it. 

He wished he could see the look on Jacqueline’s face. Would she even believe him? Would she threaten to tell Dad, or would she be upset at him for forcing her to keep a secret that could reflect on her if she were found out, too?

There was more silence, and Henry felt like he could really, truly melt through the floors right now. And then, finally, Jacqueline sighed.

“Oh, Henry,” she said, her voice exhausted. “Henry, what have you gotten yourself into?”

Henry sniffled. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry...”

“I get it, Henry. I get why you did it. You’ve got too big a heart. It gets you into trouble.”

Why did people always say that about him? Eric had said the same thing. Just once, Henry wished they would pick something else. “I know, but I shouldn’t--”

“I’m not saying you should have done it. I’m just saying, I understand. And it’s not all your fault. Anderson’s skipping out on his responsibilities. Sure, you should have reported him right away, but I can see why you thought it would be more effective to bring him back yourself. You live and you learn. Now you know.” Jacqueline said it so simply, Henry almost believed it really was simple. That there was some lesson to be learned here, instead of the paralyzing confusion and fear he had felt when Eric stormed out that door. 

Maybe there was some lesson to be learned here. Maybe protecting Eric was a mistake, but Henry could make it right. 

“...Well, what do I do now?”

“You tell Dad. And Dad tells the King. And we get this taken care of,” Jacq said simply.

“Taken care of?” Henry’s voice went small. “They’re... they’re not going to hurt him, right?”

“I'm sure they won’t. But you’ve already tried to handle this on your own, and you couldn’t. There’s no shame in admitting that.”

Henry was quiet, fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper. 

“Henry. They’re not going to hurt him. Don’t be like this.” Jacqueline sighed again. “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone because they’re not going to believe me. But you’ve got to tell Dad. We can’t have a rogue person running around with Order secrets. And whatever he said to you--”

“Jacq, it’s fine-- I’m fine,” Henry said, not very convincingly. 

“I’m just saying. Nobody makes my baby brother cry--”

“I’m not your baby--”

Jacqueline laughed, and for a brief moment, Henry felt just a little lighter. “Relax, Henry. You know what I mean.”

Henry did know what she meant. She was on his side. And right now, Henry would cling to that, even if thinking about it too hard made him afraid that he was making the wrong choice, that he was abandoning Eric. that he was betraying him.

No. Eric had betrayed him. Henry just had to keep reminding himself of that.

“So are you going to tell Dad?”

Henry sighed. “I’m really tired, Jacq. I’ll tell him soon.”

“Okay,” Jacqueline said it warily, like she wasn’t sure she believed him. “Because if it gets out that I knew and didn’t say anything, this reflects on me too.”

“I know. I’m sorry I got you all caught up in this.”

“It’s what I’m here for, Henry. I’m your sister.”

“I love you, Jacq.”

“Oh, don’t give me all that,” Jacqueline scoffed. Then she laughed. “Sorry. I mean, I love you too and all.”

Henry smiled at the floor, a headache from all the crying starting to set in. And once he hung up the phone, the weight of things started to crash down again. His best friend (if he could call him that anymore) hated him, and wanted to turn him in to the authorities (who might not do anything anyway, but still). His sister was now carrying his secret, too, and the longer Henry waited to tell his father, the weaker he was going to look. 

Worst of all, his doubts about the Order still swirled, somewhere in the back of his mind. Talking to Jacq, things had seemed simpler, but now that he was alone in his room again...

No. He had to stay focused. He couldn’t let traitors (the word still hurt to apply to Eric) distract him. That was what Eric wanted, wasn’t it? To distract him, so that this mermaid could get her way?

Henry would have to do something about this. Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, either. For now, he was going to drink his tea and read his book and try not to break down again. But soon, he would do something about this.

[sleepymarmot]

COUNTER/Weight liveblog, part 3

Finale +post-mortem

Am I glad to return to the political big picture! It's such a relief that the finale is in this format! Hopefully it won't devolve into another “fighting a giant robot” scene.

Oh, so the Chime are leading the faction game now! Somehow I completely missed the point of the two previous scenes that indicated Aria becoming the new leader of the Righteous Vanguard – I was very surprised and then 10 minutes later went “Oh that's what it was, time to go back and relisten”

Pronoun update: Austin consistently uses “they”, Art consistently uses “he”. End my suffering…

The sheer comedic impact of seven Makos, Larry and Lazer Ted all in a room together has healed my soul immediately. Can we end on this image so nothing bad happens

I'm so proud of Orth!! “I'm sorry, which one are you?” lmao

Oooh the relationship drama~ But how come Jacqui didn't know Jill was alive? Actually, now that I think of it, back then it was clearly said that Jacqui knows Jillian is back and is sad because Jillian doesn't remember her. This show's retcons…

Look I know shit must hit the fan pretty soon but for now this finale is just. So relaxing. I'm having a lot of fun listening to these squabbles. (The only exception were Mako and Orth – boys, stop fighting, why!)

That Cass & Aria scene was cool but please don't give me world leader old friends sneaking away for secret stress relief sparring sessions when I'm not supposed to start shipping them

Oh hell yeah, I was hoping that since Jacqui went with Jillian, Aria would go with Ibex. (Not very relevant here, but Ibex is from Kesh like Maryland, right? If so, there must be fanart of young Ibex and Maryland in 19th century outfits?)

Stop cryptically saying oh Sokrates isn't here, oh they aren't using their candidate name, like what's up with them?! Are they doing well? I'm worried!

Oh Orth wants to dance with Ibex huh *eyes emoji* Rematch! Rematch!

“I'll take anything” “Anything?” My mind, of course, autocompletes “Then perish”

THIS WAS A LOT and I need to take a couple of minutes to start breathing normally again. Also there just has to be a lovingly drawn fanart adaptation of this entire scene (in, like, fukcing Leyendecker style), come on fandom please say someone has done it

Jacq/Jill continuing with the heartbreaking scenes, I see

Mako doesn't like dancing now…… holy shit this is the most upsetting ball ever… (The cynical part of me must say that it's only Austin who talks about this connection, Keith doesn't and still sounds way less emotional about the whole thing than the others assume Mako to be)

I amend my previous statement, I also need fanart with snapshots of every dance: Orth firmly taking Ibex's hand and receiving a surprised but approving look, Jillian throwing her head back in laughter and Jacqui watching with a pained smile, sullen Mako leaning on a wall cross-armed and looking for an opportunity to slip away, Cass dropping his one-liner with a completely dispassionate face.

Wow Ibex is really getting ready for death. Sounds as if he knows the exact date.

HOLY SHIT THE DIVINES' ORIGIN STORY!!! FINALLY!!! I'm surprised they were all created by the same person…

I'm relieved Mako and Orth are on good terms again!

I love the new Aria as this competent politician who does a lot of swordfighting and dealing with old flames

Have I mentioned I really love the game they're playing? It almost synthesizes the best parts of the game they played previously – as if it was written just for this finale. It's so great how this show and specifically this campaign go through so many games, showing the universe and the characters from different angles, instead of having them be defined by only one game system and its limitations and quirks.

That's some real good mech if it can function for 80,000 years, Divines' body or not!

Okay, I fucking knew Liberty and Discovery would split up at some point (which is what I meant above by my expectations for AuDy's fate), but why is Liberty attacking Ibex?

Mako's robots!!! :DDD Now that's the real finale shit!

I CAN'T BELIEVE Keith missed Tower's brief appearance of all things. It's like a fucking scene from the show on the level of dramatic irony. They were truly not meant to be, even the universe in real life is saying that. Do you ever get rejected so badly that the guy you like runs away from you at the prom, and then lets you fall into a deadly portal with the rest of your planet, and then you get brainwashed, and then you are killed by an ally of that guy, and the person playing him doesn't even witness that?!

I thought Orth was going to challenge Kobus about Liberty…

“I have Liberty contained” *winces*

Every time it is asked what is Mako wearing I just mentally pull out the popcorn

“I welcome anyone to tell Cass that AuDy is a non-person”

Let me restate how much I'm loving how the scenes that in any other show would be minor fluff or short summaries in an epilogue are a legit fully rendered part of the finale

Sokrates & Orth reunion please!!

Aw Ted! It never occured to me that this comic relief character has, in fact, lost his entire planet and almost everyone he knows.

…I think I like Apokine Cass more than Chime Cass

That's a big lore dump holy cow! I'm glad Apostolosians are ex-humans after all, but I wonder how they turned into fish people

So what happened to the idea of Mako hacking Grace?

They just… went and straight up murdered two Divines… If it had happened early in the show I'd probably cheer, and no tears were shed for Grace, but Liberty… Just take a third of another player character and drive it into a sun…

Of course. I knew Sokrates is the kind of character who dies nobly in a grand finale.

I've spent all this time wondering how the piece of Voice in Mako doesn't get infected by Rigor, and it seems to finally happen and Larry seems to die repairing it, but what about all other Makos, aren't they in danger too?

This is way too easy so far, just sacrifice NPCs one by one to win.

This whole time I was assuming Mako saved as many clones as he could, not just his own… If he gets another turn I bet it's submit or die :/

Hello I'm crying over Lazer Ted! Choices in the campaign sound futile now: who cares which guy Mako saved – they both died anyway! All named NPCs did!

Except for Jacqui. Congratulations, the NPC Who Lived! (I mistyped “loved” at first, which is also relevant. And yes, I cried here too.)

How the hell would falling into a sun kill Rigor if it was previously not killed by a bomb that destroys hundreds of suns?

Poor Cass… Not only sacrificing yourself in such a difficult way, but to have a final conversation only just to learn that your friend, a passionate revolutionary further empowered by Righteousness, has deserted… The sheer contempt and disappointment he pours in just three words “Ibex told you”...

Welp. Mako's fate was not tragic like I feared! Good news I guess, but it's still kind of sad. And I think the saddest part is that Mako himself doesn't realize. Because it can just sound like the natural continuation of his character growth – after he had to learn to be the responsible one first in contrast to Larry and then to the other Makos. But it's not that, or not just that, and it's kind of chilling to hear that he never knows it, and never knows peace.

Executive Joie, oh my… It's so strange and cool how Aria somehow continues the legacy of Jace and Ibex at once.

The race is over. It's so strange that now there are no consequences to fear or spoilers to avoid.

I didn't like the final battle as much as the rest of the finale – I hoped for a more clever solution than just throwing bodies at the enemy (but I guess the intro warned me lol…). Especially since these bodies had very unequal impact – I'm not going to care about Diego Rose or Chet Wise or Orth's newly-created lieutenants or as much as I care about Jacqui -- so it felt unfair towards players/characters who had more important or likeable chracters in their faction. I'm opposed on principle to making the big confrontation feel important and emotional just by killing off characters (hi, J. K. Rowling and Russo brothers), I think it's cheap and emotionally manipulative, but in this case the emotional manipulation doesn't even work so it’s doubly disappointing.

If someone's reading this, you can see that what I expected or wanted from the story was not what it gave me, and that was frustrating or disappointing at times. But nevertheless, it was a wild ride.

I've slept on it and it still fucks me up that out of the Chime only Aria gets a genuinely happy ending! Cass is fucking dead, Liberty is dead while AuDy becomes a ghost, and Mako loses everyone and is lonely for the rest of his life!

It's so strange to listen to the opening theme in the post-mortem and think that this is the second-to-last time. (Relistens don't count, it's not the same thing.) By the way, I love that theme – it sounds like a half song with the words on the tip of my tongue, like space, or like city at night. Really atmospheric.

I love how everyone continues to be into that moment where Aria has the opportunity to kill Cass lol (I am too)

Yeah, thanks for reminding me about that coin toss moment for Kobus in the finale, that was so sudden and shocking I was completely losing it for the long few seconds it lasted

I'm glad someone asked whether Jack knew the Big Spoiler in advance – he was so calm about it in the following episodes that I started wondering

Oh so it wasn't my imagination that the players needed the comic relief of the Lazer Ted episode no less than the characters

After a sad talk about Mako's dead friends, Andi, cheerfully: “I love to kill and I love to hurt and I never regretted anything I ever did! :D” which won the least surprising comment of the hour award lol. Honestly, after that one scene with Diego I started to get a bit nervous whenever Andi announced they had an idea… C/w was fun because I now realize the cinnamon roll Aubrey was actually them playing against type.

I love that someone asked about Mako's first kiss and/or Orth's fandom life!!

Keith's answer is sad, though… He “had literally never considered Mako even being capable of kissing someone, like it wasn't something on the table” and that was unexpected to me. I'd mentioned several times that he sounded reluctant to play up the romance, but I was assuming it was the player's preference, not an innate trait of the character whose attraction to someone was a part of his character creation. How do I interpret it? Mako is aro? Mako never had a chance to properly grow emotionally because his youth was fake and for the rest of his life, all emotional connections were sabotaged by Rigour's shadow, and also literally all his potential love interests died? Ugh, I just keep making myself more and more upset.

Holy shit I forgot about Art asking if there's an old Apostolosian mech on September by any chance lmao

Cene always knew?! Holy shit w h a t

It's nice to hear Ali talk about her growth in confidence as a player because she's definitely kind of an inspiration – for years I've thought tabletop roleplaying is too intense and I'll never do it, but when I finally tried out it was not so scary, so maybe there's hope for me too!

The concept that the real challenge of the final battle was that the easier it would be to defeat Rigor, the worse shape would the world be afterwards sounds much better than what that battle actually felt like to me. Instead of paying for victory with the health of society and their faction's political power, in the actual gameplay they paid with NPCs from their circle and that was it; the political consequences came later and sounded entirely unrelated. Maybe if they had to go against their faction's goals or sacrifice its assets – e.g. “use Minerva's Rigor-tech mechs in exchange for the promise to leave them alone afterwards” instead of “sacrifice all Mako clones”… Aria had something similar with Weight, but it was the price of Jacqui's life, not the price of a victorious battle against Rigour.

It's very cool to learn where the sound effects in the theme come from! And god, every line as its own take? My head hurts just imagining that…

Austin getting distracted by the idea of fucking Rigor was hilarious, but I never, ever want to hear the word “daddy” in this context! What's with these jokes this season, ew, please stop.

Excuse me, Ali wanted to kiss Ibex as who exactly, Jace or Aria? Both options are equally crazy!

See, “You wanna say ‘Oh he was just doing what was necessary, he was just doing the thing that's good in the end’, and yeah that's him working on you” is exactly why he reminds me of Dukat! Literally the same mind game on the viewers/listeners!

Why is the link broken, I want to see AuDy in Titanfall!

Listening to team “Fuck Ibex!” and team “Fuck Ibex ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)” yell at each other is very entertaining

“Nobody on the Kingdom Come is cishet” is a nice sentiment but I'm kind of confused by which definition of cis Cass is not. Have I missed something about them changing pronouns in-universe? Just because English doesn't have exact analogies for the Apostolosian pronouns doesn't mean everyone who uses them isn't following their own society's conventions. And now Austin also's saying “We never wanted to say these pronouns are equivalent to gender” which is, a, not true, and b, sends the whole problem back to square one – because if that's not the Apostolosian gender then what is? This! Is! A! Mess!

[jacqthehermit]

Why Do I Ship BoruSara

WARNING: Pro-BoruSara, if you are an anti/hater and you still read this then don’t blame me if you get triggered. I already warned you, not my fault. Learn to stay in your lane, mofos.

Agree or disagree, this is my opinion IDGAF

First of all I want to say sorry anon. I know you’ve been like “WTH Jacq! I’ve seen you online and posting some shit why the fuck are you not answering my question!?!” I know okay? I’m sorry.

The reason why I keep on delaying my answer to this is because I cannot decide whether I’m gonna answer this short or if I’m gonna make a detailed blog about it. Finally, after contemplating for days, I decided to just make it short. I think if I make a detailed blog, it will be long as fuck and never ending since I love the ship so much lmao. No one reads my long ass boring af blogs and try hard short stories anyway (which I make to accompany my drawings sometimes) FeelsBadMan

So what made me ship BoruSara in the first place? I think my answer can be found in most of my previous blogs about them and I will say it again here. The reason I started shipping BoruSara is because I wanted a different approach in romance in the story.

The main ships in first gen was basically: Girl finds the boy cool, falls for him and girl saved by the boy, eventually develops deeper feelings for him. I know they were puppy love at first which grew into real love at the end. I mean I ain’t complaining about that especially my first OTP was one of them, SS. It’s just that I want to move on with this kind of romantic development. We’re in the next generation now! Time for something new!!!

That’s why when I first saw Boruto and Sarada in Chapter 700, I fell in love and shipped them right away. The chemistry was so overflowing I just can’t. I know antis and haters are just blind to see that or just in denial lmao. 

“Why Boruto?! You shipped SS in the first gen. Sasuke was the stoic, mysterious, silent, bad boy type. Boruto is the opposite!!! You should’ve ship Sarada with someone else!!! Our princess doesn’t deserve this annoying loud piece of shit” 

Yes I like those type of anime guys but sometimes I also like those loud, aggressive and playful ones. Like when I read shoujo mangas before, sometimes I’m all in for the jerk male lead but there will also be times when I fall for the second male lead who is a nice guy. Same goes for here. Again, we’re in the next gen, time for change mofos!

What I also like about him is that he aint some dumb shit. Boruto is smart, he studies well (thanks to his mother) and he is a prodigy. Yeah he was rebellious at first but after the Momoshiki fight, he stopped being a whiny bitch about his dad which I really appreciate a lot. I mean he was just a kid and his dad rarely goes home what do you fucking expect? He’ll understand right away? Even in real life we all know how kids act rebelliously and go emotional whenever they don’t receive enough attention from their parents so I don’t get why people can’t understand that? I mean are we all living in the same planet or what seriously.

The hate about Boruto being super strong and a prodigy is weird as well. First he is the fucking protagonist whether you or I like it or not. Of course he will be the OP one just like in other shounen anime/manga. Second, Boruto is the fucking son of Naruto and Hinata, nephew of Neji, grand son of Minato and Kushina. WHAT DO YOU FUCKING EXPECT FROM THEIR GENES?! WHY ON EARTH WILL THEY PRODUCE A WEAKLING!?! OF COURSE HE’S GONNA BE FUCKING OP. It’s not like it’s Boruto’s fault that he came from a super strong family. He is born this way smh.

“Why Sarada?! She’s mean to Boruto!!! She doesn’t care about him! She hurts him! She only cares about being hokage! Boruto deserves better than this arrogant bitch!!!”

I don’t really get this “Sarada is mean to Boruto”. As far as I know, she’s always concern about him. Even from the beginning when Boruto was fighting with Iwabe, it was clear that she was worried, Chou Chou even noticed it. Whenever Boruto gets hurt, Sarada is always the one tending his wounds (ex: during their Mist village field trip and during their first mission as team 7 where she pulled the bandages tighter because she knew Boruto was lying that he was not hurt.) 

Sarada always checks on Boruto, not only because she doesn’t want their team to encounter some trouble but because she doesn’t want Boruto to do something reckless (remember when she nominated him as class field trip leader so she can keep an eye on him). If she’s fucking mean to him and doesn’t give a shit about him, I don’t think she will give a damn to do these things. If this is what being mean is to you then I don’t know what kind of comprehension you guys have lmao.

Alright about Sarada’s words and action towards Boruto. Sarada scolds Boruto obviously because we all know that Boruto is hard headed (still we also know that even if she scolds him or whoever it is, he will still go on his way just like his dad lol) And it’s not like she’s insulting him or saying hurtful words. Most of the time they’re just arguing and I don’t think there is something wrong with that. It’s normal to argue specially when your ideas clash with each other.

How about when she hits Boruto? I don’t know but in real life when we play fight or tease with our friends, we tend to punch or slap each other. BUT of course not as hard as shown in anime because bruh of course in anime it will be super exaggerated for the comedy. Same when for example our friend is about to do something stupid or has done something wrong, sometimes we be like “Bruh why you did that!” then we hit them on the head (again not as hard as shown in the anime cuz we irl) Therefore I just think it’s nothing serious.

Don’t start me with “No Sarada is violent with Boruto!!” Again, this is anime, and that “hitting” is just part of the comedy. If you still gonna go with this stupid reason then what about Temari? She hits both of Shikamaru and Shikadai even with her fucking weapon. Does she SERIOUSLY wanted to hurt or kill them? Of course not, why would she do that to his husband and child. This is all just fucking exaggeration to show how pissed the character is. All animes/mangas do this ffs. 

“Pfft! But if BoruSara go canon it’ll be so cliche!”

You wanna know what’s more cliche? The fucking male protagonist of the shounen manga/anime falls for that female character who is

Usually weak at the beginning, then will just grow stronger at the end.

The ideal type for most men: The girly girl, shy type with big tits. If you act rough, or you’re boyish with a flat chest, you’re out.

In love with him or already has feelings for him right from the start because he is the coolest guy she ever met or she regards him as her hero.

Sounds familiar? Sounds like Na-ru-to *cough* Fai-ry-Ta-il *cough* Ble-ach *cough* <insert other shounen anime/manga with same shit> 

Hold up your horses! Before you flame and send me hate, I just want to be fucking clear. I am not saying that this kind of romance structure in shounen anime/manga is wrong. I understand that shounen animes/mangas target the male audience that’s why anime/manga creators tend to choose this path most of the time. If you guys like it too that way (in every shounen) it’s fine, we’re cool. It’s just that for me, it gets boring once in a while. Also I am not hating on this type of characters. That’s how the author/creator wanted them to be, I can’t do anything about it.

Why can’t the male protagonist of the shounen manga/anime fall for the female character who is:

Already strong right from the beginning. I don’t get why their female love interests have to be this meek character at the beginning who usually will encounter some kind of trouble where the male lead will save her then only from that time she will realize or be inspired that she needs to be strong to not burden the male lead.

Bold, brave and has a strong personality. I am not saying she has to be necessarily boyish. What I am trying to say is that why is the love interest would always be that shy and timid type? Can’t it be the confident type this time? The one who can fight for herself and what she believes in. The one who is tough, can be rough sometimes but still ladylike all throughout.

Worthy to be called as his rival, on par on his skills and strength. Damsel in distress is so old fashioned! Princess being saved by a prince is nice but come on guys, ain’t it cooler to have a princess who can also fight beside you right from the start?!?!

These are the reasons why I ship BoruSara and why I want them to happen, they just complement each other so perfectly. In addition, I am also a huge sucker for rivals turned into lovers type of love story. I strongly believe that it is waaaaaaaaay better than the plain old love at first sight and boy saves girl shit.

 “B-but BoruSara won’t go canon because of this and that...”

I already made a blog about that. You guys can read it here if you haven’t yet.

There you go anon! I hope I was able to answer you. And yes this is the shortest that I can make it. I can still make it longer to be honest lol.

Later guys! I still got a drawing to finish.

Jacq out!  (*ゝω・)ﾉ

[alternateafterthought]

Ashton Irwin Imagine

First Last Dance

Looking at Ashton, I couldn’t believe this was it. Meeting when we were nothing more then 18, 5 years together and it was time to call it quits. We were just two people existing with each other now, we were in love… drunk off it really, and here we were, staring into the eyes of a familiar stranger.

Ashton was still yelling, his voice being drowned out by the bass coming from the speakers in the room opposite. But I had lost all will to yell at him anymore. I was tired, tired of the yelling, tired of the fighting, and tired of the lying… I was tired and I just wanted to sleep.

“Ash, we have to stop.” I spoke softly, but from his sudden stop in speech I knew he heard me.

“You’re right. I should go away for a bit and we talk later-“

“That’s not what I meant.” I cut him off.

“Well, then what do you mean?” he asked confused.

“Ash, I’m tired.” I sat down on the couch, facing the window. “I want to sleep in peace, knowing that I’m not going to wake up to another argument. I want to be happy when I walk through the door knowing you’re on the other side happy to see me.” I felt Ashton sit next to me, but I couldn’t look at him, not yet. “Ash… I love you… but us being together is killing us. Its toxic.”

“Jacq… No…” His voice broke, I felt him turn towards me, grasping my hand. “We can figure this out… we always do.”

“I love that you believe that.” I turned to face him, my eyes falling into his hazel ones. “I love that you believe that we can fix everything because we love each other…”

“Don’t… please-“

“But it’s not enough anymore.” I spoke over him. “That’s a fantasy Ashton and you know it.”

“Do I get a say in this?” He looked into my eyes, the fight in them seeming to fade away.

“Of course you do.” I squeezed his hand. “But can you live with yourself knowing we stayed in this relationship if all we do is fight and hate one another for simply breathing?”

“I don’t hate you.” Ashton smiled sadly. “I never hated you… I was just scared, a coward.” Ashton looked out the window, over the garden. “I didn’t know how to ask you and then I got scared and I panicked…”

“Ask me what, Ashton?” I asked after a few minutes of Ashton staring at his hands.

Instead of saying anything, Ashton moved a small purple velvet box out of his jacket pocket. Before he could look at me or open the small box, I stood, hand over my mouth to silence the gasp that escaped. When he did open it, a small ring sat comfortably with a small diamond. It was small, elegant and simple… everything Ashton and my relationship was.

“I’ve been carrying this around for eight months now,” Ashton laughed. “I was going to ask you on Christmas… put I punked out. Then on Valentine ’s Day, then your birthday, then by the time it got to the point where we were fighting so much I could see that you hated me…” Ashton sucked in a deep breath, finally looking at my unmoved frame, standing by the window, a hand over my mouth. “I knew, the only thing I could do was let you go… but I’m selfish. I can’t let you go.”

Silence held reigns, even over the music that blasted not 5 feet away. I just stared at Ashton who in turn stared at me, the purple box looking so heavy in his large hands. Neither one of us moved, even when the massive double doors slammed open, Michael, Calum and Luke falling out laughing, looking around for us. They quickly saw the scene in front of them, me standing in shock, Ashton sitting with a ring in his hands.

“Did we interrupt something?” Michael spoke, breaking the silence, bringing me back.

“Nope.” Ashton slammed the box shut, shoving it deep into his jacket pocket once again. “What did you want?”

“Um… they called last dance.” Luke pointed over his shoulder. “Figured you’d want to know…”

“Ah, I don’t think we’ll join-“

“We’re coming now.” I said, finally finding my voice. “Come on. One dance.” I offered my hand to Ashton.

Without saying much else, Ashton and I walked into the massive room, finding a space in the room. Ashton moved his arms around me, mine sitting on his shoulders simply swaying to the music. Hero by Enrique Iglesias was already half way through, but that didn’t stop Ashton from wrapping his arms a little tighter, bringing us together. I could feel the pressure of the small box next to his heart… my heart broke.

“Ash-“

“Shhh…” He cut me off. “If this is the last time I get to hold you, just let me enjoy it please.”

His eyes were closed, burying into my neck. It wasn’t until the song was almost over that I felt wetness on my neck, it trailed down my skin. Ashton didn’t try to cover up the fact that he was crying, I had just broken his heart, he didn’t have to say it, but I did.

“Sorry.” He wiped at his eyes.

“You don’t have to be.” I gave a small smile.

When I looked into his eyes I could see it… a determination I hadn’t seen since we started dating. He was becoming the Ashton I feel in love with and I couldn’t do this anymore… I couldn’t break our hearts again.

“Sorry, I can’t do this.” I pulled away but he pulled me back in.

“I love you. Don’t forget that.” Ashton spoke. “I promise I will be who I need to be to get you back again. I will marry you.”

This time when I pulled away he let me… running into the night… still running away…

A/N - Feedback is appreciated

[tonguetiedmag]

music: weekly roundup (our favorite submissions of the week)

Werwe - Throne

This indie rock track has instrumentals that pull you in immediately. They stay steadily hypnotic for the first minute of the song until they crescendo into the song’s shining moment. The vocals are an almost shouted plea and maintain pretty steady throughout. Overall, this track gave me strong Muse vibes and I loved every second of it.

Abacus Rings - Martian Baby

This track, if nothing else, really made me laugh. I will admit that I chose this track out of all the submissions I received this week because I am always looking for songs that fit on a Halloween soundtrack. This song is exactly what it sounds like: a boppy love song written about a martian. This song has character, instrumentals that’ll keep you invested even if aliens aren’t your thing, and lyrics that’ll make you giggle if you’re paying enough attention. I love a band that doesn’t take themselves too seriously. This track is perfect for your next pumpkin carving date.

Also Joe - Oh, She

I spent a lot of time listening to this song while I was going through submissions at first, trying to decide what to make of it. It’s so interesting, because it opens with this super sweet Beach Boys-esque harmony and then calms into an indie rock love song. There’s a tambourine, there’s some synth, there’s a catchy guitar hook - there’s something for everyone here. Around the 3:30 mark, that barbershop-quartet-like influence comes back as a bass-toned backing vocal as the song crescendos. While I would have loved to see it carried through the middle of the track, it’s a touch that’s so unique in this genre right now that I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Harry Mold - Python

The opening guitar on this track really sold me. This British indie rock track channels all the very best that British rock has to offer in a slightly, more recent Harry-Styles-esque package. One of my favorite phenomena in the world is when someone with an accent retains that accent when they sing, and Harry Mold doesn’t disappoint - check out the second verse for stunning proof of this in action.

Frogi - thnk u

As soon as I heard this song I knew it was a yes. Between the gentleness and fragility of the main vocals and the backing harmonies, the vocals are almost choral. I feel like I’m in some beautiful, feminist church service. At the end of the first verse when frogi introduces the refrain, I got chills. When the instruments kick in around the 3 minute mark, it’s just a single, bold drum line. It’s so effective in driving this song forward and giving it a backbone, just like the lyrics are suggesting. This is a track that anyone who’s been in a relationship that went south can relate to, and the universal effect that has only makes it feel more like a church hymn. Don’t skip this song.

Sweet Alibi - Confetti

This track was so interesting to me, because it’s got these phenomenal folky undertones to it. The vocals are a little bleusy, the instrumentals are maybe a little bluegrass, the pace is quick like an indie pop song. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it but it didn’t matter once I heard the harmonies in the lyric “and you just can’t take it with you” at the 30-second mark. The lyrics have a great message about greed and consumerism but it’s presented in such a subtle way that I didn’t even notice until I was on my third listen.

Polyanna - Ghost

While the vocals on this track may not be the most elegant (and it’s pop punk, so they don’t need to be), the chorus really sold me. It fulfilled every shouted-vocal, rhythmic drums, angsty lyrics and subject matter desire I had while running through this week’s submissions. Even past that first chorus that sold me, there’s gold - an instrumental break with just the hint of backing vocals and some really stunning closing vocals. I’m a pop punk girl at my very core and to hear a female-fronted pop punk band from my home state in my submissions inbox this week was such a wonderful moment. Definitely check out this band.

Sawyer - Emotional Girls

Full disclosure, this isn’t really the type of track I normally go for, but it immediately had my attention. It’s a tongue-in-cheek track about the kind of guy that calls girls “emotional”, aka this is a must-listen for anyone who’s dealt with a boy at any point in their life ever. As someone who can readily admit to being “dramatic” and “emotional”, oh boy did this track speak to me. Yes, we’re asking you to listen and yes, we’re not sorry about it. Add this to your playlists right next to Lizzo, because it’s got the same energy.

The Vaughns - 50%

If you’re not listening to The Vaughns, you’re incorrect. This track is so sweet. The vocals sound effortless and cool and the instrumentals are bold and quick. As previously mentioned, I love a female fronted band and the way Anna Lies hits these notes just drives that home even more. Even better, The Vaughns are also from New Jersey - a great week for NJ bands in my inbox this week. The quick pace of these lyrics leave me in awe of the band’s song-writing skills, but they also know how to slow it down: around the 2 minute mark, the time stamp changes and the song balances itself out. This track is well rounded, interesting, and such a pleasure to listen to.

Majjin Boo - Mom’s Marines

This track had all the pop punk undertones I was looking for this week. The opening lyrics have the same energy as a Mom Jeans. or Microwave song, and the heavy guitar channeled the best of the best from midwest emo. Around the 1:45 mark the guitars take center stage and the vocals become the backup, and it’s so charged. The second half of this track really packs a punch. This is the first track this band has released, but I’m so excited to see where they go from here.

Listen to all of these songs on our playlist! 

Article by: Jacq Kozak

[shit1write]

Chapter 1

He was dead. That much was obvious. His eerie translucent white skin, the smell hanging in the air, the way his eyes were dull and sunken, deep into their sockets; all indicators that this person is dead.

What I never get over, the thing that really drives home how dead this person is, is their eyes. The pupils that once danced with life are now blank and fixed to a place somewhere in the distance.

I’ve been in this job for three years now, and it never gets easier. I’m always jarred by how empty their body is. I always wonder what their body looked like when it pulsed with life. Did they have nervous twitches? Or were they smooth and confident? I meet the mans steel gaze, willing him to tell me his story.

“It wasn’t quick, I’ll say that” says Angela. She’s hovering over the mans body, camera in hand, ready to capture this mans lifeless shell.

“Any indications on what killed him?”

Gazing at the mans body, she says “It’s too early for a definitive answer, but an educated guess would be that he choked to death.”

I follow her line of site and take in the way the John Doe’s mouth is positioned. Slight bruising is present around his full lips, his cheeks bulging like his mouth is full. I’ve seen this before.

“He choked to death on a dirty sponge” Angela states dryly.

“You’re sure?” Surely she can't be serious? Again?

Shaking her head and flipping up the visor of her mask, Angela looks at me. “Nope. Looks a little too much like your other case”

Meeting her eyes, I can tell she feels it too. The dread; the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Damn it, I’ll make the call”

Stepping out of the master bedroom and into the hallway, I pull out my phone. I look around, procrastinating for a moment, not wanting to make this call to my boss. I’d been hoping to solve my last case a lot sooner. It was proving to be substantially more complicated than any of us could’ve imagined. And now, here we are with another body. Same MO as another murder only committed one month prior. We could have a serial killer on our hands.

A serial killer.

My spine tingles. My first serial killer. I should be thrilled. I should be dancing with the knowledge that I will be responsible for catching a deranged psychopath. I can’t feel excited though. Someone is dead, and their life, their memory rests in my hands. If I can’t catch this person, if they continue to kill? What happens then? I shake the thoughts from my mind as my phone rings.

Inspector Rochester blinks across the screen. Great, he’s calling me, that can’t be good.

“Inspector, I was just calling you”

“Tell me what you’ve got Reed,” the Inspector barks down the line. He’s always been a no bullshit type of guy. No fluff, not chit chat, just straight to the point. I like it that way. Formalities are only a delay for the inevitable.

“Yes sir. Our victim is male, mid to late twenties. Suspected cause of death is asphyxiation.” I say, dreading his reaction to my next statement. “A sponge was found stuffed in the victims mouth.”

I hear a sharp intake of breath.

“Right. What are you thinking? Copy-cat? Linked to the other case?” He’s completely alert now, urgency in his voice. I can almost hear the gears whirring inside his head as mulls over the enormity of my last statement.

“Too soon to tell, but the scene and MO are very similar.”

“Keep me updated. I’ll be making a statement to the press shortly. I’m already receiving calls from the bloody vultures” he sighs, “If this is linked, we need to get it under control, now.”

“Yes sir,” not knowing what else to say. “I will do everything I can to catch this guy” “Speak soon.” Knowing that was my cue, I end the call. I take a breath, roll my shoulders and head back into the bedroom. I got this.

I stand in the doorway watching various CSI’s complete their assigned tasks. The click of camera shutters and low voices fills the space. The soft rustle of the itchy blue coveralls worn by each person underpins the mood, reminding me where we are. We are no longer in the room of young vivacious twenty something year old who was getting ready to take on the world. We are in the room of a murder victim.

I watch as the coroner zips up the black bag our victim has been placed in. I nod at her, “keep me in the loop yeah.”

I really liked Jacqueline, our resident coroner. She’s everything you don’t expect of someone that spends their days surrounded by death. With dark hair, long legs and striking features, Jacq looks more model than coroner.

“Always do,” she winks. Giving her okay to her assistant, they lift the body onto their waiting stretcher.

Once out the door, I turn around to the void where his body once lay and speak to the room. “Alright, have we got an I.D. on our JD?” The room is messy, clothes stuffed into drawers and kicked into corners. Bedside tables littered with dirty bowls and used tissues, delightful.

“Danny Backer, 29. Going by the I.D. in his wallet he’s a lawyer at Dunn, Dun and Jackson.” Angela steps forward, handing me an evidence bag containing said wallet. “Their office is on Edward St.”

“Great. What else can we take away from the scene? Anything to tell us how long he’s been here for? I don’t see a phone.” Strange. Wallet, but no phone. I peak into the brown leather wallet, and see there’s a substantial amount of cash and all his cards are still in place. Not a robbery then.

“No phone. We’re still going over the rest of the apartment and the CSI’s are going to check outside and the footpath to be thorough. I’ll get tech to pull his records and see when he last had social or phone activity”

“Good. You’ve got this under control. I’ll see you later.”

I pull into my park and glance at the dash. 25 minutes since I left the crime scene. 25 minutes to get three bloody blocks. That’s Fortitude Valley traffic for you. Checking my phone for any missed calls or texts, I make my way upstairs. I’m greeted by the low hum of voices and phones waiting to be answered. Passing the Inspectors office and noticing he’s not in, I continue straight to my desk.

I take a seat at my small desk, glancing at the photo’s in their frames. A small pang of sadness hitting me, the familiar ache of longing settling in my chest.

“REED. With me.” I hear from across the room. Shaking off distant memories, I make my way to the Inspectors office quickly. He’s not happy; has he already addressed the media? Before I even have the chance to close the door, he’s talking.

“I’ve spoken with the media. This isn’t good. There’s already talk of cults and serial killers. Of copy-cats and revenge crimes. Tell me what we have”

Moving to take a seat, I notice a slender, imposing man standing in the back corner of the office. I hadn’t seen him enter. What is he doing here?

“Yes Sir. We’re obviously still waiting on the coroners report, but going from our last case, this guy will have been tied up,” I cringe. I couldn’t imagine putting my trust into someone, only for them to take advantage in the worst way possible. “The last victim had a sponge forced into his mouth and throat. He was then force fed water and he essentially drowned” I say, eyeing the stranger in the corner. He’s seated now and lazily watches me as I speak. One leg crossed over the other, fingers intertwined and resting on his chest.

“Are the victims similar?”

My train of thought is interrupted, what was I saying? Oh right. “Yes. Both late twenties, lawyers and live in the Valley area.” He’s still watching me, eyes burning holes into the side of my head. “Both are fit, and by the state of their apartments, they are single. Toxicology reports for our first victim will be in by this afternoon” I rattle off in one breath.

Not noticing my discomfort, the Inspector nods towards the figure in the corner. “If these are connected, and I suspect that they are, you’re going to need a team for this. Detective Roan has the experience you’re going to need. It’s not every day that Brisbane has a potential serial killer stalking its streets.”

The strange has a name. This is the infamous Detective Jacob Roan. I’d heard he was transferring from North Queensland. Having one of the best clearance rates in the state, he was well sort after, and it seems the Inspector is quite proud of his newest recruit. I’d heard on the grapevine that he had a lot of… personality, and guessing from the conversation being had, those rumours weren’t wrong.

“You will still be a lead investigator on the case” the Inspector continues, “with your brains and his instincts, we’ll have this tied up much quicker than either of you could manage alone.”

“Thank you sir” I smile at his subtle compliment. Though not completely placated, I’m much more confident in the knowledge that I’m still a valuable asset.

“Thank you, Jeremy” says Roan, mocking my use of Sir. Never taking his eyes off me, he leaves the room, mischief dancing in his eyes.

With a curt nod, I am dismissed. Any excitement I had about working on my first potential serial murder case has dissipated. They’ve been thrown on the ground, and stomped on by expensive leather shoes.