#/claps hands/ that's all folks he's dead /j /j

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

Morty never feared the dive. Not until he learned how it felt to drown.

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[cyberfairyblog]

Caves of Qumran prologue

Jason, Whit, Connie, Eugene, Katrina, Regina, Calypso and Vanessa go to Qumran to rescue Jason's former colleagues. Jason x OC, Eugene x Katrina, rewrite of the cartoon. The dialogue is wonky I know ;_;

Deep within the caves of a tiny Middle Eastern Country, a pretty blonde haired woman wearing a red shirt and green shorts walked down the caves reading the runes with her torch. She looked around sensing something - or someone - in the same vicinity and contacted her partner.

"Stanley Stanley are you there?"

From not far away,a tall brunette man in a business suit answered back. "I read you Sarah I'm just trying to navigate - WHOAH-" He yelped as he fell into the shallow pool.

"Stanley I don't think we're alone," Sarah voiced her concern.

"Don't tell me you're developing a case of the creepy crawlers." He saw a bunch of cobwebs and proceeded to freak out. Blinded by fear he ran smack dab into the wall and fell.

"Stanley what's happening?"

Stanley got up and sputtered "nothing just taking a little breather," he replied hoping she didn't catch that embarrassing pickle.

The two partners went back and forth, Sarah arguing that they needed to stick together, Stanley countered back claiming her fears were unfounded.

"We shouldn't be wasting our time chasing after a shadow," Stanley said. The inappropriately dressed explorer was too busy talking up his own bravery that he stepped on a brick, that sunk into the ground very slightly but the effect was devastating.

Stanley was just getting up again when the walls disappeared from behind him. Alarmed he tried to see what was going on, but then he heard footsteps approaching him.

Stanley screamed.

By then Sarah was too far into the tunnel to hear her partner's distress. Even through the walkie-talkie he was pleading saying that she was completely right there was someone not in their group in the caves hunting them down. But she didn't listen. She arrived in a small room filled with crates and gasped at the labels some of them bore.

Dozens of ancient artifacts strewn all over, and a table upturned as if there had been a fight. Sarah saw an older woman laying on the floor.

"Professor?" The blonde gasped. The professor's eyes were closed and her body was still like ice.

"No you can't be dead!" The blonde woman shouted in fright, collapsing to her mentor's side to check her pulse. To her relief she was alive but her skin felt cold. They needed to get out of there. Taking out her walkie-talkie she contacted Stanley.

She got her answer when Stanley dropped right in front of her, tied up with rope. "My god what happened?!" Her suspicions were sadly confirmed as another person showed up but they were shrouded in complete darkness.

"No stop, let us go please!" Sarah begged but her desperate pleas echoed with not a single soul to care...

It had been a long slow day at J&J Antiques so it didn't surprise Vanessa in the least bit when she saw Jason asleep on the desk in his office. Smiling she took the time to remove the papers trapped under his face - he would hate having them ruined by a cascade of saliva - and sat them aside.

"Jason," she whispered in his ear. "I'm gonna go ahead and close up shop for you."

The ex-agent only muffled a response. Wow he must've really had a rough day, no doubt because of that woman, Vanessa mused internally. She spent the next several minutes stowing things away and turned on the neon closing sign. By then Jason had woken up and dragged himself into the main room. "Did I miss something?"

"No, just me doing your job," the novelist said with a tease.

Blue eyes glanced at his watch. "Wait it's past seven already? Crap!" Jason exclaimed with a frown.

"Don't worry there hadn't been a customer, you were pretty knocked out though," she replied now feeling concerned. "That's a sign you need a vacation."

Jason was surprised at how clean the main room was, and guilty he fell asleep on the job. That rarely happened even during his time at the NSA and that job required doing paperwork *shudder*. In gratitude he wrapped his strong arms around the plush woman, and they gazed into each other eyes. "What would I do without you Nessie?"

"Oh I don't know, missing, dead, forced to perform at some gangster's kid's birthday party," Vanessa said all that with a shrug. Jason chuckled before pecking her on the lips. They stayed that way for a while until the phone rang. Grumbling at the loss of intimacy Jason trudged over to answer it. Meanwhile Vanessa went to sanitize the counters. She could hear him perk up at the other person on the line.

"Professor Janet it's good to hear from you, how's the expedition?" They talked for a good while and then Jason mentioned something about moving. "We hope to get them by the end of this week! Nice talking to you Professor!"

"Who was that?"

"That my dear was Professor Janet, we used to worked together back when I was a missionary," he explained. "She's sending us gifts from her latest expedition!"

"Oh? That's neat!" Vanessa clapped her hands. "Our museum does need some new items!"

"And the best part is they're entirely free! No payment whatsoever!" In excitement he scooped her up again and kissed her. "Trust me our museum is going to flourish!"

So that was how, almost a week later, a moving van arrived outside the manor house and its drivers unloaded beautiful artifacts of times long passed. According to Jason they came from a tiny middle eastern nation called Qumran.

"Are you sure it's a good idea having those things here?" Calypso asked while watching their progress. "I don't want to have to deal with a curse!"

"Come on Callie you know there's no such things as curses," Regina nudged her on her arm.

The Greek woman crossed her arms. Something smelled fishy about the whole thing.

One of the drivers, who wanted to be cheeky, held a vase out for Dylan. "Here kid catch!" The driver sneered before throwing it. Dylan tried to catch it in time but the poor thing crashed into the ground in a bazillion pieces before he could reach it. Vanessa's face drained and she slowly approached the pile of shards. Before anyone could response the van drove away leaving the black woman to pick up some of the pieces. She was almost in tears.

"They looked like they didn't care," Vanessa grumbled. "I oughta call out to their bosses and give them a piece of my mind!"

"We'll get our justice soon," Jason patted her on the shoulder. "What kind of employee does that to rare artifacts?!"

His father hummed. It did seem odd a professor would hire such careless folks. But at least the other items were in tact.

Little did they realize there was a lot more beyond ancient history behind their new gifts. Something that could lead to an exciting adventure away from Odyssey!

So I'm rewriting the episode "The Caves of Qumran" with Jason and my OCs inserted because I'm in a self indulgent mood. Unlike the OG episode Dylan won't be in this - I like him an all but he wouldn't really fit. Besides I want to see how my OCs would act in an episode. I'm not copying dialogue word for word a lot of it is my own. Also the main couple is Jason x Vanessa (my oc, obviously) as well as Eugene x Katrina. Professor Janet is an OC and an important one in this story. This story has a strong message particularly parodying Hobby Lobby and its recent controversies so that'll be fun! Leave some comments and remember: don't forget to tip the servers!

[peakascum]

As Long As I Breath pt. 2

This is technically a prequel requested by an ANON! Part one here: PART 1 

He felt a ringing in his ears as the words left Arthur’s lips. The world stood still for a moment and his heart almost gave out. Arthur called out his name in repeat as John tentatively put a hand on his shoulder. He had escaped the hands of death many times, never really caring if he survived or not. But you- you had never been exposed to it in spite of growing up with him, Tommy always shielded you from violence and gore. 

“Brother, please we- we need you here right now.” Arthur pleaded as he held his hat between his hands. He stared at his brother’s eyes in despair, never having seen him in such a state. 

Tom slowly put his hands on his desk and stood above it, shoulders hunched and face reddening by the second. John left his side slowly, afraid to be in the way of his brother’s wrath. 

In a split second Tommy let out a toe curling scream that penetrated through the walls of the already empty betting shop. His fist came in contact with the surface of his desk repeatedly, littering glass and papers over the floor. He grabbed the gun from his holster and began walking out of his office screaming incoherences, making the family duck and others run towards him in fear of what he might do. Spit and words of rage slipped from his mouth as he shot the gun repeatedly into the ceiling. 

“What the fuck- Tommy! Shit.” Arthur said as he reached towards his brother in an attempt to calm him down. John took the other side to corner him and prayed that no stray bullet would hit him. Finn grabbed Polly’s still frame and placed himself in front of her, unaware of the damage his brother could cause, for Tommy looked and felt as if he was already grieving. 

Tommy suddenly held the gun up to his temple and placed his finger on the trigger as he let out one last scream. John knocked the gun from his hand as Arthur pinned him to the wall by his chest and neck. “It’s all right brother, it's all right. We’ll find her, eh?” The brothers stared into each other’s eyes and Arthur swore he could see Tommy’s soul slowly dying. 

“Fuck Tom,” John let out as he opened the gun’s chamber to see only one bullet left, “fuckin’ hell, just-“

He emptied the single bullet and held it up to his brother’s face. “See this? It already has Sabini’s name carved.” 

“That’s right Tom, in fine fuckin’ print.” 

Tommy would never admit this to anyone, but that sleepless night he prayed to a rosary Polly had gifted him and asked any that might care to listen, to spare your life and take his instead.

It took them exactly two days to find your location. Sabini’s men boasted about Tommy’s “broken bird”, which was overheard by one of the men recruited for your search. Arthur was the one that first found you, a memory that still haunts him every time he sees you. Sabini held you by your arms as your legs dangled lifelessly on the floor. Arthur took cautious steps holding his hands beside his head to show no threat to the enemy.

“All right, you got us here. You can let the girl go.” 

“Let her go?” He laughed humorlessly, “She’s been a good doll, haven't ya’ girl?” You whimpered at this. He grabbed you by the hair making you shriek in pain. “A nice little plaything we found ourselves.”

Tommy entered the room with John in tow, both unable to register the sight. Despite seeing men lose their limbs in the Somme, they had never expected to see something so gruesome, much less with someone they deeply loved. 

Tommy’s heart almost gave out at his lover’s unrecognizable face. With tears brimming his eyes and a lump in his throat he pleaded gently with Sabini, “You can have me, j-just pass her over.” The enemy looked ahead dangling you by the hair. Scalp on fire that could've been lessened, but your legs gave out long ago. “I’ll back off, burn my own pubs, seize control,” he said shakily, “just pass her to me and we can negotiate whatever it is that you seek.”

Sabini pondered his words for a minute as his hands tightened around your throat and hair. “Mr. Shelby you have humiliated me countless of times.”

“I have never humi-“

“You have humiliated me!” He caught him off quickly shaking you in anger. You choked on your own blood and saliva as he restricted your airways. Tommy tried to maintain his composure at the sight of your struggling frame. 

“I’ll give you you back the club and 50% of last month’s earnings.” Arthur looked at him wearily, “Tom-“ 

Tommy cut him off with a hand gesture. “My wife for my club and 50% of the earnings.”

“You mean my club, the one that you so graciously took from me, for this little fuck doll.” The room stilled for a second bathing itself in his words. “Let me guess,” he said chuckling darkly, “by order of the Peaky Blinders?”

As John retreated his gun the enemy forcefully bashed the side of your head against the wall. A sickly crack was heard across the room. Bullets fired and blood coated the floor. Tommy’s eyes went dark as he took an already dead man and decorated his body with bullet holes. No noise came from his mouth, only loud gasps for air and whimpers of despair. Once the last bullet left his gun, he picked you up bridal style, cradling your head to his chest carefully. 

Arthur and John screamed incoherences as they drove with you to the hospital, but Tommy could only focus on your weak pulse and the ring on your left hand. This, this is what death felt like. This is what awaited for him in hell, your frail body reduced to nothing, almost falling apart before him. 

_________________________________________________________

Tommy spent every waking moment in the hospital room. He watched the sun set and rise from behind the clouds and basked in all its warm glory. A new day meant you were still here, still breathing, still alive. And you did get better, slowly. He would sit beside you talking mindlessly about your favorite books and memories swallowed by the hands of time. When your face recovered its normal features and your life was no longer on the line, the doctor had warned of brain damage, how you could remain a vegetable or suffer memory loss. So he spoke in code, just as you had done since you were kids. Every specific and important word was accompanied by a squeeze to your hand. 

“Remember that, love? Could never hold your alcohol.”

You frowned and squeezed his hand twice.

“Could not! Second glass and uncle Charlie’s jokes had you pissing yourself.”

To which you would respond with a squeeze and a light tap of your index finger.

And when he had to leave, his family would gather by you. Finn taught you key words you had forgotten, Polly spent her days spoon feeding you and retelling old folk tales she knew you enjoyed. With time you giggled and regained strength. 

One particular evening, Tommy was held back by the usual business. He frantically ran through the hospital doors cursing himself for leaving you all alone. And once again life had proven to Tommy that there was such a thing as love. For a man that had lost everything, the thought of compassion and kindness had been thrown out the window. But as he arrived at your hospital door his insides began to flutter once again. 

You lay in bed with Finn and Michael by your side as John and Esme danced horribly at your feet. Arthur clapped lacking any sort of rhythm, might I add. The Shelby’s weren't known for their musical skills. Your laugh filled the room for the first time in months making the corners of his mouth tug slightly. Your eyes met and lips parted in unison. 

“Tommy.” 

“Y/N.”

[victoria-daydreams]

Till Kingdom Come

Chapter Nine: Home on the Range

AN: I’m back! I had trouble writing certain parts of this chapter and at one point I gave up and started writing for the next two chapters. But finally this chapter is done. I also published a playlist for this story that had been sitting in my drafts. Listening to some of the songs I selected as you read through the chapters is just *chef’s kiss*. After this chapter I’m probably going to take break from the story since writing this particular chapter was so draining for some reason. But hopefully when I return I will be feeling rejuvenated and ready to write again.

Happy Holidays!!!

Word Count: 5.1k

Trigger Warnings: violence, racial slurs/dated language

Taglist: @nerds4life246​

Chapter Ten: The Black Belle of the West

Sabine was fond of saloons just as much as anyone else, but tonight she visiting the establishment strictly for business. The bounty of Percy "The Fiend" Doyle had been issued by Sheriff Horace Lane, a man who usually offered the bounties that Sabine and the rest of the immortals took up. Working with him was quite the eye opening experience for Sabine. The sheriff was in the minority of accepting women and colored folks as a bounty hunters in a usually white, male-dominated occupation. It gave Sabine some comfort to know that there were some men who didn't let ego, bigotry, or ideas of femininity completely cloud their judgement.

Sabine swirled her bourbon around in its short glass as her eyes scanned over the saloon. The billiard room was so thick with smoke from cigarettes and cigars that it nearly burned her lungs, and the strains of piano music could be heard far off amidst laughter and chatter in the saloon. Laughter that came from rowdy men and pleasurable squeals from the working women lounging in the arms of their potential clients. Throwing back her shot, Sabine placed her glass down and began her prowl for the wanted man.

It was easier said than done.

There were so many people in the saloon that Sabine was having a hard time finding the outlaw. She moved from person to person, to table to table, until she found a familiar looking face. The unshaven beard, the wild, black hair, and the liver-spotted face. She took out the poster that she had been given, and compared the face on it with the man that she was looking at. No doubt, it was a match.

She stuffed the handbill into her chest and pulled the sleeves on her dress down to her shoulders. And with a vivacious smile, she strutted over to the table where The Fiend was playing poker with several other men.

"Anyone one you fellas named Doyle?" Sabine asked, placing her hands on hips.

"Who wants to know?" The Fiend questioned defensively.

Sabine shrugged, "You see, I'm new here and Charlie told me that you're a regular," she explained, playing the stereotypical vapid floozy. "And you always likes to see the new ones," she said, twirling a strand of her hair.

The Fiend looked Sabine over and smirked, "Never laid with a negress before, but I guess you'll do," he remarked, eliciting a few chuckles from the men around him.

The Fiend picked up his glass and downed his whiskey in one swift motion and excused himself with a wolfish smile, showing off his disgusting teeth. Sticking her hand out, Sabine sent the man an alluring smile and the man readily took it and she began to guide him up the wide staircase, The Fiend swatting her behind as they went. She tried not to tense nor flinch when she felt his hand, his action briefly transporting her back to her time on the Martin Plantation, but keeping her cool Sabine maintained her composure. The two of them made their way down a dimly lit hallway, where prostitutes lingered in their doors, smiling flirtatiously at him.

"Gimme a holler if you want a second inning, mister," one girl called, and winked at him, while another blew him a kiss.

They reach the end of the hall to "Sabine's" room and she opened the door, ushering him into it and closed the door behind her. Sabine smiled coquettishly at him as he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt.

"What's your name?" he asked, pulling the shirt from his body.

"Lisa,"

"Well Lisa, I hope that you don't mind licking," he commented, his tongue darting out from his lower lip.

Sabine felt bile rise in her throat at the gesture, the very thought of his tongue making contact with any part of her made her want to gag. It was repulsive.

Sabine began tugging at her own clothes, "I don't pay no mind to that," she lied smoothly, allowing her dress to fall to the floor.

"Good girl," he cooed, eyeing her from head to toe. "You know, you're a lot prettier than the last one. Hardly had any teeth, and no tits," he described, shaking his head in distaste. "She was a flat thing, and I never liked flat. I wouldn't have mind all that, if she hadn't been such a bad fucker," he remarked, before letting out a sigh and plopping down on the bed. "I enjoyed seeing that bullet go between those blue eyes," he mentioned casually, tugging his boots off.

Sabine feigned shock, "You mean you killed her?" she asked, her voice slightly high pitched, placing her hand on her chest.

"Sure did!" he boasted, a large grin on his face. "She won't the only one too. Five other whores have been met similar fates all across this state," he informed. "I don't like to kill women folk, but if they disappoint old Fiend here, well I don't have a choice then," he went on. "Men are a whole lot easier to kill, they don't usually scream. When I robbed a bank in the Dakotas, I shot this lady and she screamed like a harpy. A shame that I wasn't able to strangle her instead," he finished, shaking his head and laughing lightly.

"It sounds like you've done a lot of killing," Sabine commented, feeling her disgust rise higher and higher at the sorry excuse of man in front of her.

"Oh darlin', it's what I do. I know it's probably not smart to talk to you about this, but if the noose ain't around my neck by now, then I don't think it'll ever be," he gloated, shrugging his shoulders.

She turned to The Fiend and smiled, "You sound like a very smart man," she complimented, watching him unzip his pants.

"What I am is horny," he corrected, staring at her hungrily. "Now come over here and let me get a better look at you," he ordered, beckoning her over.

Sabine walked over to The Fiend and he laid back on the bed, tucking his arms underneath his head. She planted her foot on the bed and slowly began to draw her chemise up.

"I'm sure many people are wanting your head, mister," Sabine mused, biting her lip.

The Fiend shrugged again, "I've got a bounty. About 7,500 dollars. Bunch of bullshit if you ask me, I'm worth a lot more," he proclaimed, puffing his chest out a bit.

"You know, I'd have to disagree,"

Sabine pulled her skirt up to her thigh, revealing her revolver in its holster. Before The Fiend could even react, she whipped out her gun and shot him dead center in the forehead.

"7,500 is far too much for you, bastard,"

High pitched screams and confused shouts rung out from behind her door and below her as she heard of flurry of movement downstairs. Blowing the barrel of her gun off, she slid the revolver back into its holster. Sabine picked up her clothes and redressed herself, mentally reciting the words she was about to say to the more than likely frenzied crowd that was going to be at her door in any moment.

"Everybody calm down, I mean no one else any harm," she would begin. "I am Corinna Vance, a legal representative of the Criminal Justice System of the United States of America. And this man here was a wanted man," she would explain, unfolding the warrant that matched Percy 'The Fiend' Doyle's description.

~~~x~~~

The sound of cheers, clapping, and the thumping of feet against wood reverberated in the air alongside the instruments being played. Strumming and singing to the rhythm of the tune, Sabine felt herself smile at the small audience who were clearly enjoying her performance. She didn't plan on doing this, not in the slightest, Sabine thought maybe around this time of the day she would be having a cup of coffee after finally getting up from bed from the long night she had. She had been tracking down another bounty given to her, this time she didn't even go under a pretense, she just sniped him from afar.

A well deserved rest was in store for her, she could taste it on her tongue.

But then, as soon as she rode into Hickory, Sabine was surrounded by children begging her to play on the banjo. And as much as she wanted to say 'no', Sabine could see the way their eyes lit up at the mere prospect of her performing.

And so she played.

So now that I am old and gray Listen close to what I say The white folks, they will write the show If you can't read, you'll never know

Sabine watched as the children swung each other around to the sound of the fiddle player, his bow striking across the strings as he rolled out the notes. She stared off to her side as she plucked the strings of the banjo with her skilled fingers. Bastien was sitting on their porch drinking from his flask, a smile was stretched upon his face at the cheerful kids in front of him.

Weeks had passed since the incident in Bastien's bedroom, and like with the 'river incident' the two of them mutually agreed in silence that nothing happened. Because technically, it was true. Yes, she and Bastien had a...heated moment that came close to a kiss, but did they do it? No. But of course that didn't stop Josef and Nicky from teasing her, because they knew something had gone down behind the Frenchmen's door.

Better git yer learnin' Better git yer learnin' Better git yer learnin' Before it goes away

Sabine and the fiddler drew the song to a finish, playing the same notes with much enthusiasm and joy. The last note rang out in the air and everyone from the children to the adults lounging around to hear Sabine play erupted in applause.

She did a little bow, "Thank you, thank you," she said, smiling herself. "Like the song I was just singing," she began, gazing at the young children in front of her. "You all need to get your learnin', so back to the schoolhouse," she ordered gently, and all the children simultaneously groaned. Sabine shook her head and wagged her finger. "I will be hearing none of it. Go on, off with you. Playtime is over," she informed, shooing them away with her hand.

Sabine pushed herself up from her seat on the porch step and turned around to see Bastien looking at her already.

"Quite a dark song to sing to children," he stated, with a chuckle. "'Ol' Massah found out, sure enough. And poor old Nick, he got strung up,'" he recited, putting the cap of his flask back on and tightening it.

Sabine walked closer to him, "It is true though," she responded, holding her banjo by the neck. "The penalty was death if a slave was caught trying to educate themselves," she continued, look down the road where the small schoolhouse was. "I'm glad they don't have to suffer or be beaten for wanting to learn," she added.

"I am too,"

She her turned attention back to him, "Why are you drinking so early?" she asked curiously. "It's only eleven," she pointed out.

"Well, in France I believe it's five o'clock," he retorted, slightly grinning.

Sabine snatched the flask from his grip, "That's not an excuse," she said letting out a laugh and running away from him into the house.

As soon as she crossed the threshold of the front door, Sabine felt a hand wrap around her waist and spin her around. Giggles bubbled from her throat as her surroundings whirled around.

"You two having fun?"

Andy's voice shattered Sabine and Bastien from being in their own little world and he quickly placed her on feet, grabbing his flask back with little resistance.

"Morning Andy," Sabine greeted awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck and making her way to the den area.

"Your hunting go well?" she questioned, glancing back down at her newspaper.

"Plentiful," Sabine answered, laying the instrument against the wall. She shrugged her knapsack off her shoulder before reaching into the bag and pulled out a wad of cash. "It's all here. All $7,500 of it," she beamed, walking back over to Andy and handing her the cash.

Sabine remembered bringing the body of the outlaw to the sheriff and him giving her reward. He promised that all the money was there, but she counted the money nonetheless. It was better to be safe than sorry in her opinion.

Andy smiled and nodded, "Nice job," she complimented. "I'd figured you would want to wash up, so I heated some water up for you," Andy explained. "Booker, if you would be so kind to take that pitcher to the washroom," she requested.

"Sure boss," he answered, and walked over to the stove, wrapping the pitcher's handle with a towel.

Sabine watched as his figure disappear down the short hall where the washroom was located, but stopped when she felt like there were eyes on her.

She glanced over to the oldest immortal who had her brow arched, "What?" she asked, removing her hat from her head.

"I've been hearing...rumblings," Andy began, her voice low as she folded the newspaper up.

"Rumblings about what?"

"That something transpired between you and Book while I was away," Andy answered.

Sabine scoffed slightly, "Josef and Nicky said something didn't they?" she questioned, taking off jacket. "What did the two gossipers say?" she asked again, turning around to go hang her things up.

"Nothing compromising if that's what you're worried about," she reassured. "Matter of fact, I'm not completely sure what is going on," she admitted, the chair creaking underneath her as she stood up. "I have an inkling due to Joe's teasing mood as of late,"

Sabine shrugged casually, trying to brush off Andy's suspicions.

She turned around, "It's Josef, when isn't he teasing one of us," she said, with a chuckle.

Andy approached her, "Booker is fond of you," she said bluntly, just loud enough for only her to hear.

Sabine's mouth opened and closed like a fish, trying to form words, "W-Well, I hope he would be, we've only known each other for a decade-"

"That's not what I mean and you know it,"

"Is everything alright?"

Sabine stared past Andy's shoulder and saw Bastien looking at the two of them with a slight frown.

"Yes," Sabine answered, flashing him a smile. "Just us two gals talking," she explained, moving past Andy. "Thanks again for the bathwater," she added, looking over her shoulder at the oldest immortal.

Andy let out a chuckle in disbelief, "Sure, no problem Sabine," she replied, shaking her head.

Sabine went down the hall and pushed the door closed, seeing her clothes that she forgot she left in there folded neatly. Sighing gratefully, she stripped herself from the clothes she was wearing and put them aside before she rinsed her hair. Next, she soaped her face and hands, humming to herself as went. She carefully rinsed her face before taking a wash rag to the rest of her. Finally, Sabine bathed her body and shivers ran down her spine from the chill in the house. She quickly dried herself as best she could and dressed herself in her clothes from the day before.

Dirty clothes in hand, Sabine left the small washroom and out to the main area where Andy, Nicky, and Josef were all seated at the table while Bastien was

Josef's eyes lit up at the sight of her, "My good friends, I think we have a genteel lady in our presence again," he commented, staring at her outfit.

Sabine rolled her eyes and did a little twirl, her skirt dancing at her ankles, "Yes, it is I, Lady Sabine," she announced, straightening her posture and lifting her hand in the air.

Doing a quick bow Sabine left the den, walking towards her bedroom to place her things down and return back to the main area of the home.

"You know that Juneteenth is approaching soon?" Sabine asked, tucking the sides of her blouse into her skirt a little more. "Last year we missed out on the festivities, too busy chasing down outlaws," she remarked, going to pour herself a cup of coffee.

"Ah yes! I can hardly wait!" Josef cheered. "Good food, good drink, music, and dancing. Who could ask for more?" he added, leaning back in chair with his arms behind his head.

"We could all use a bit of fun," Nicky chimed in, as Sabine looked up from her cup.

"But not too much fun," Andy suggested cautiously. “I am not trying to play nanny to any of you,” she joked, a smile reaching her lips.

Sabine went to join the group, "Oh come on Andy," she complained, pulling her damp hair over her shoulder.  She walked past Bastien, lightly letting her finger trail across his shoulder, his body stiffening in response. "Bastien is our resident functioning alcoholic," she quipped, taking a seat next to him. "I think we'll be just fine," she added.

~~~x~~~

A light breeze swept through Hickory as Sabine did her afternoon chores outside.

She looked over the clothesline to see children sitting around Hans listening to him tell stories from his homeland. They were interesting tales that had the kids attention completely eaten up. Just the way he told them made them all the more captivating. His hand gestures, the voices he would give the characters, even the facial expressions he put into it. It made her wondered why he didn't teach at a fancy school somewhere instead of...being here.

Sabine pinned another shirt onto the line and lifted her eyes from her work again, just in time to meet Hans' gaze. He sent her a quick wink as he continued his storytelling, she chuckled to herself and shook her head as she bent down to pick up another article of clothing. The sound of a bell being vigorously rung echoed in the air followed by the loud chatter of children passing by her home.

Back to the schoolhouse they go.

Attaching her chemise to the line with clothespins, Sabine could see from the corner of her eye Hans' form strolling over to her.

"Afternoon Miss Vance," he greeted, from the other side of the clothesline.

"Afternoon," she echoed, wiping her hands dry on her dress.

"Hard at work I see," he joked, motioning to the drying laundry.

Sabine chuckled slightly, "Trust me, I've done harder," she replied, knowing the statement would go right over his head.

Hans didn't know that she was a slave, he didn't ask, so she didn't tell. Sabine always wondered if he didn't ask out of dignity or out of pity.

"Then let me grant you a reprieve," he said, sticking his arm out. Sabine glanced over to the clothesline and Hans chuckled. "I make better company than the laundry, I promise," he assured, a twinkle in his eye.

"I guess you have a point," Sabine agreed, her lips quirking up into a smile as she walked over to him.

"How about a ride to the nearby meadow?" Hans suggested, glancing over at her.

"That sounds lovely Hans," she agreed, before walking over to her horse.

Freedom was a beautiful horse, Sabine knew so. The animal was well built, a white stripe ran down nose, her coat a light brown that seemed to drop into a darker brown around her under belly and legs. Yes, Sabine adored the horse, it was her companion on her many bounty hunting trips. She stroked Freedom gently and in return the horse nuzzled her shoulder.

"Good girl," she cooed, giving the horse a pat and mounting it.

Sabine maneuvered her horse, guiding it to the front of her home where Hans waited on top of his own steed.

"Race you there," Sabine said, squeezing her legs on the horse's sides.

Freedom's light trot turned into a sprint as she took off, Sabine felt her plait bounce on her back as she sped off, looking back at the German with a wide unmistakable smile on her lips. Hans flashed his soft gray eyes at her, smiling back as he tugged on his reigns to catch up with her and ride at Sabine's side. Leaning her body back a little, let out a whoop as she felt the wind rush past her.

Soon, the two of them found themselves at a wide meadow full of flowers and tall, green grass.

Slowing her horse down, Sabine gazed at the scenery with a small grin and dismounted Freedom. Hans followed behind her, hopping off his saddle and dusted off a sprinkling of dirt on his horse's rear. Sabine lowered herself onto the ground and laid on her back, not caring if grass got in her hair. Without taking her eyes off the clouds in the sky, Sabine could hear Hans plop himself down next to her.

"Not that I'm not grateful," Sabine began, staring at a cloud that reminded her of a feather. "But why did you bring me out here?" she asked, lazily turning her head in his direction. "The porch is a very comfortable place to sit as you know," she joked.

"Too many prying eyes," Hans answered, staring down at her.

"What? My friends?" she questioned, with a chuckle. "They're harmless," she assured, giving a dismissive wave.

"You sure about that?" he asked back, letting out a laugh of his own. "What's his name, Samuel? I don't think he's that much fond of me," he commented, taking his hat off.

"Oh, Samuel is like that with everyone," Sabine replied, knowing that was lie.

"Miss Vance, I think you're lying to me," he stated, tearing some grass from the ground.

Sabine snickered, "Was it that obvious?" she wondered, resting her hands on her stomach.

"Just a little," he replied, pinching his fingers closely together.

"Samuel is...Samuel is something else," Sabine explained lamely. "He can be a bit cold towards people he doesn't know. I wouldn't take it personally," she instructed.

Hans hummed, "I'll take your word for it," he responded, stroking his beard, clearly not sold on the idea.

Sabine laughed lightly, "Anyways, did you have fun telling your stories today?" she asked, pushing herself up onto her elbows.

"It was wunderbar!" Hans answered, with a grin. "The children seemed to be hooked onto my every last word I said," he recalled proudly.

"I don't doubt it," Sabine agreed. "It makes me wonder why you're not a teacher in some big, fancy school in New York," she commented, looking at him in curiosity.

"I use to tutor children from the upper class for many years and life soon became monotonous for me," he explained, staring out into the meadow. "I kept hearing people say that 'The West' is full of opportunities and new experiences and I couldn't help myself," he went on, shrugging a little. "I know I'm a bit old, but I couldn't shake that sense of adventure off me," he finished, turning towards her with a grin.

"I think you're never too old to have a sense of adventure," Sabine disagreed. "You only get one life, why not live it?" she questioned, managing to keep a straight face as the hypocritical statement slipped past her lips.

"And what about you?" Hans inquired, lightly tapping her thigh. "The children have told me that you are quite the singer," he informed. "Your voice could take you places," he suggested.

Sabine scoffed, "Where would I sing?" she challenged. "In a fucking minstrelsy show to humiliate myself?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Goodness no," he disagreed vehemently. "And I wouldn't want you to subject yourself to that," he added. "I just thought with your singing-"

"There isn't a stage in America that would let my colored ass perform," she cut in. "Look Hans, you may not know this, but being a female bounty hunter sometimes isn't really the most grateful job. Whether it's because you don't have a cock or your skin is not the color of milk. But at the end of the day, I still enjoy what I do. It helps me provide for myself and my friends, takes me to new places, and meet new people along the way," Sabine continued, running her hand through the grass. "Plus, I get paid to kill white folks," she added, a smirk on her face.

"An added bonus I'm sure," Hans responded, with a chuckle. He began to play with his hands before looking at Sabine again. "May I hear you sing?" he requested, with a hopeful look on his face.

"What?" Sabine asked, raising her brow. "Come on," she complained, throwing her head back.

"I haven't had the pleasure of hearing you sing," Hans pointed out.

Sabine exhaled dramatically, "Okay, fine, fine," she conceded, pushing herself up completely.

One evening as I rambled among the springing thyme I overheard a young woman conversing with Reynardine.

Her hair was black, and her eyes were blue, her lips as red as wine. And he smiled as he gazed upon her, did that sly bold Reynardine.

"That's it, I'm not singing any further," Sabine stated, lifting her hands in the air. "If I sing anymore this week, I'm gonna have to start charging people," she quipped.

"But my appetite has not been sated yet," Hans pouted humorously.

Sabine grinned, "Too bad," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"Where did you learn that song from?" he asked curiously.

"Some English fellow that I met this past winter," she replied, a faint smile on her face. "He was a...very pleasant man to be with," she commented, thinking of fond memories about Oliver.

"You meet the darnedest of people out here, don't you?"

"It's like I said, perks of the job," Sabine reminded.

A silence fell between them as another breeze swept through meadow, blowing strands of hair across Sabine's face. She turned her head and stared at Hans with intent. Something was off about him today, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Was there another reason you brought me out here?" Sabine asked, staring at him.

The smile on his face lessened at her question, "Actually yes," he replied, tossing some blades of grass back onto the ground. "I received a telegram from Texas. A friend of mine is having trouble. You've heard of Theo Beck, I take it?" he asked, returning her gaze.

Sabine shrugged again, "A little. Sheriff Lane told me that he killed his family and then robbed a bank?" she answered, wondering where this was going.

"That'd be him. He was suppose to hang last week, but he escaped from his cell the day before his execution. Now, my friend is a federal marshal and he's the one that set the bounty. Dead or alive. Everyone's been searching, and his last sighting was in Oklahoma..." he trailed off.

Sabine's mind quickly put two and two together about this conversation.

"You're leaving?" she remarked, both of her eyebrows raised.

"I'm afraid I am my dear," Hans confirmed, nodding his head.

"I feel like you just got here and now you have to leave," Sabine grumbled, crossing her arms.

"I have to Corinna, I might never see an opportunity with the size of this reward like this again," he explained, raking his hand through his hair. "You are the one who told me that we only get one life," he reminded, slightly grinning.

"Yes, but I didn't think your next adventure would be this soon," she retorted, throwing her hands slightly. "Who's going to teach me German now?" she questioned, shaking her head a bit.

"I'll think you'll do just fine without me schatzi," Hans assured.

~~~x~~~

Sabine and Hans walked alongside their horse as they approached Hickory, deciding to give their horses a rest.

"Before I leave here, I want to give you something," Hans stated, before digging inside his coat pocket. He pulled out the German language lesson book that he had been going over with her. "Something for you to remember me by," he added, extending the book towards her.

Slowly, she pulled the book from his grasp, "Hans, are you sure about this?" she questioned. "We may never see each other again, I'll have no way of returning this to you," she pointed out.

"It's a gift remember?" Hans replied, a small smile on his face. "And when we do meet again, I expect us to have full fledged conversation in German, recalling all our wonderful exploits," he corrected, with an affirmative nod.

Sabine laughed, "I look forward to it," she concurred, clutching the book against her chest.

Hans stepped forward, gently taking her by the arms, "Before I depart I would like to also give you a proper goodbye,"

She arched an eyebrow, "'A proper goodbye'?" she repeated, wondering what he meant as he pulled her into his embrace.

"Yes, something that I've been wanting to do for a while," he continued, as he slid his hands around her waist.

Lowering his head ever so slightly, Hans planted his lips on her mouth. Sabine gladly allowed herself to lean into him, exhaling gently as she reciprocated the kiss. For that instant, they were totally unaware of everything and everyone around them. Hans' grip on her waist tightened, deepening their embrace. From the corner of her eye, Sabine saw a figure emerge from the front door of her home. Abruptly, she pulled away from Hans when she recognized who it was. Bastien. Clumsily, the book slipped from her hands, dropping it onto ground with an echoing thud.

Embarrassment was written all over her face.

"Samuel! I-I-didn't you see there," Sabine said sheepishly, her hands folding into one and other in a nervous, awkward motion.

"I can see that," Bastien responded, with harsh plainness.

Sabine glanced over to Hans, expecting to see the same wide-eyed expression as her, but instead Hans looked smug. Completely unfazed that Bastien had caught them in such a position. Sabine started to believe that's what made Bastien angrier as his nostrils flared and a vein on his forehead protruded out in anger.

Hans faced Sabine again, "Auf wiedersehen," he said, before kissing the top of her head.

The German climbed onto his horse and spurred it forward with his heels, sauntering past the town's wooden placard. As he left, Sabine could hear him humming a little tune to himself and she instantly recognized it.

It was the song Reynardine.

Chapter Eleven: Green-eyed

[jeromesxreader16]

Such A Joker 37

SAJ Part 36

~

"How are you going to do it?" I ask holding Jerome's cold hand. "Sending waves of high electricity and jump-starting the brain should trail with the elements of the awakening."

A loud laugh echoes through the warehouse causing me to fight green eyes I lost long ago. "He's going to fry me!" Jerome laughs looking down at himself.

"Well looks like when this is all over you won't need that replacement any more."

Xander. Crap.

Jerome giggles clapping his hands together. "He's not real anyway, doll. Don't worry about it. You think you've been living a life without me to help you along?" Jerome pets my head kissing the crown of my head and grabs my cheek. "Aw, sweets, you do need me."

Everything I've done in the past couple of months has been fake? It would explain how closely Xander and Jerome resemble each other. Maybe I am just crazy. Maybe I never was cured.

Maybe I just need to be free again.

"If you don't want to get shocked Ms. Gordon I would advise you to remove your hand." Dwight places clips on Jerome's body and flips switches making a huge machine hum with power.

Dwight giggles as he rests his hand on a large lever. "HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS FOLKS!" The lever is forced over and lightning fires within the room. Dwight cackles at my poor lover's body gets fried.

"Come on Jerome. Come on, baby." I beg, gripping the chair for life.

Soon after the machine clams down and Jerome is still lifeless. I grab his hand weeping. "J?" I lean down trying to listen for a heartbeat any sign of life.

"He's still dead." Dwight's assistant addressed. "I know he's still dead. I ran into some technical difficulties. Nothing that I can't fix."

"Is everything plugged in?" "Yes." "Try turning it on and off." "I did! Three times."

"Look, you have spent the last year telling everyone that the Prophet would return. People have made sacrifices for you, Dwight. I left a really good job at the post office. The police are coming, and you promised them Jerome. The others expect to hear him speak. They want to see his face and if you can't do that-"

"You know, you make an interesting point."

Dwight walks near, grazing Jerome's face. "What are you doing?" I gasp seeing a small scapula in his hands. Dwight smiles and rests a hand on my cheek.

"Shh."

the black bag is thrown over my head and I'm forced away from Jerome.

~

I'm sat in a chair now fully handcuffed and unmoving. I groan moving my arms and resiting against the restraints.

"Don't move too much, doll. You'll bruise your pretty wrists." Jerome whispers in my ear. "You're not even here!"

"Not yet."

"Brothers and sisters, I promised you Jerome would return and today your faith is rewarded. Jerome is here, and so is our Queen!"

The bag is ripped off my head and I'm set on stage for the whole cult to see. I look up the stairs behind me and feel my heart sink.

Jerome's face is being used as a mask for this wannabe! Dwight prances down the steps wearing my lover's face!

"Behold the Prophet. The Prophet is here." Dwight grabs my hair raising me to a standing position. "We are back!"

The crowd screams in protest of their false leader. "Where's Jerome?" "Where's the hell's Jerome?"

Dwight groans pulling me forward. "The Prophet is here. Tell them, (y/n)!" I glare at him smirking at the mask. "You'll never be Jerome. You will never even meet the standers." Dwight hisses and throws me to the pavement harshly making the crowd scream.

"The Prophet is here! Listen to me! Jerome is here. He never left us. Each of you kept him alive. Each of you is Jerome. I am Jerome. We are all Jerome."

The cult chats over and over again getting louder every time. Dwight rips me from the floor and holds me in his arms. "Kiss me, doll face." I glare at him and turn my head. "I only kiss men with scary smiles."

"Then I don't need you." His voice is thick with venom and he tosses me into the crowd. "Remove the toxic cog! She has resented me. She has disrespected Jerome!" They push me away and out the door scraping my legs and arms every time they push me to the ground until I exit the building and run into town in search of my father.

I run into the GCPD panicked. "Dad." Lee catches me as I stumble past. "(Y/n)! What happened?"

"Dwight! He took- He cut off his face!" I cry out letting my tears fall. Lee leads me to Jim in an examination room.

"(y/n), god where have you been?" I fling into his arms crying. "Dwight took me. He- He's wearing Jerome's face! He cut it off, Dad." I sob in his chest as he smooths my hair back.

"(y/n)." Lee says grabbing my attention. "We know." I turn around seeing my faceless Jerome laying on the table.

I cover my mouth choking on my sobs. "Why couldn't they just leave you alone?" I whisper and touch his shoulder still feeling the coldness of the grave.

"I was going through the evidence you recovered from the scene. That phone was on the corpse next to Jerome. The last number came from the precinct." Lee explains passing over a flip phone to my father.

"Wait. You're saying someone in this house tipped them off?" I ask never taking my eyes away from Jerome.

" It would make sense. They cleared out moments before we got there." "So we got a freaking mole? Is there any way to know who called?" "The number came up as the main."

"So you can't make some kind of gadget to figure it out?" I look up meeting my father and Lee. "Why don't you just flood them out? You have the phone. Go call the number back from the floor and see who sweats." They both nod and move to exit the room until Jim grabs my wrist.

"I'll let you say goodbye, (y/n). Properly this time." I smile and wipe my tears away. "Thanks, dad."

A quiet room surrounds me and all I can do is stare at the faceless man I've loved for years. I sit next to him playing with his fingertips. "I wonder where we would've ended up if we skipped Gotham together. You might be here. I might not be crazy. We might be happy."

I let a tear slip from my eye sighing. "I've just lost the fire in me. It was all connected to you Jerome, and now I feel empty, but I know I have to get healthy. I need to stay strong. You were always worried about me stepping out alone in Gotham. So I can't live how we want. I'm going to have to be a fucking cog, and be the boring detective's daughter again. I'm just sorry you can't be here to laugh at me."

I close my eyes crying alone. I miss him so much.

"Detective's daughter, huh? I could make it work."

I giggle opening my eyes and looking over to the corner expecting the ghost that keeps me company, but the room is empty.

"Looking for someone, doll?" I avert my eyes down and see the faceless Jerome smiling widely at me. I drop his hand covering my mouth in shock. Jerome laughs looking at the hand I was previously holding. "Strang."

He sits up staring at me with his green eyes. "I know you. Don't I?" I nod my head feeling a smile creep its way up my cheeks.

The door opens and closes shut and not a second later Jerome has my gun pointed at my head and is threatening Lee. She looks at me with wide eyes. "(y/n)." I shake my head sighing. "It's alright. He won't shoot me." Jerome tightens his grip digging the end of the gun in my head. "Is that so?"

I smiled turning around to meet his eyes. "I know you. Don't I, Jerome?" He stares at me and begins to cackle madly. "You've got me, honey." He then points the gun at Lee. "Game change! Now tell me. What's going on?"

I sigh walking to the door and blocking it from entry. "(y/n), what are you doing?" Lee asks panicked. I roll my eyes picking up medical supplies to wrap Jerome's face. "Looks like I'm taking care of your patient. Now tell him what's going on." "Why do you do it?" I laugh rolling out the gauze. "Well I'm not the one with the gun pointed at them, am I?"

I watch Lee's facial expression change from confused to realization. "You never changed did you?" I roll my eyes walking over to Jerome.

"Gosh, you sound like my father." I place one end starting at Jerome's neck. "Hold please." He smiles and holds the cloth down.

"Storytime. Let's go!"

Lee proceeds to tell him the recap of his last living months, and everything that's happened in between.

He throws his head back laughing. "Wow. Now that I quite a story. You know, I know I've been dead, but doesn't that seem kind of crazy to you?" Jerome looks at me laughing.

Lee tilts her head smiling sarcastically. "Hey, maybe you're dreaming. Try shooting yourself." Jerome hums putting the gun to his head making me giggle. "Makes sense. Maybe you're right. Is this my angel?" He points to me winking.

"Hey, tell me more about this cult. They think I'm pretty great, huh?" I roll my eyes spinning in the chair. "They're a bunch of raving lunatics and idiots."

"Plus they have no respect for their queen."

Lee raises an eyebrow at me. "They didn't even get me a crown."

"Aw, baby don't you worry. I'll get you the biggest crown in the city." Jerome says pinching my cheek. He groans grabbing at his head. "Sorry. Head's a little fuzzy. You know, I was just reborn. Last year was nothing but darkness as far as the eye can see."

I sit next to Jerome patting his shoulder lightly. He looks over at me and tilts his head. "I know both of you, right?" He giggles smirking at me.

"Hey, did you and I ever, uh..." Jerome places the gun suggestively near his crotch and winks at me. I nod returning his wink. "Ah, I knew you were something else, doll. Long history?" "Another story for another time, love."

Jerome waves my gun at Lee laughing.

"That's right, (Y/n) Goron, the crazy, badass, sexy daughter of Jimbo. It's good to have you back sweetheart. Now that leaves you. You're Jim Gordon's little Twinkie." Jerome moves closer pressing the gun against Lee's face making me smile.

"How's it going between you and Jimbo? Huh? You still together, or..." "No." "No?" Jerome turns to me, "You knew this? Daddy can't keep a girl huh? Oh, that's a shame. I really liked you guys. What happened?" Jerome lays his arm over my shoulder pulling me to his side.

"He killed my husband on our wedding night." Jerome starts to laugh pulling me along. "Glad you two find it funny."

"I do. I get why you don't. Wow. You miss a lot of being dead!" He laughs again. He pulls me close and kisses my head.

"You know what? Go ahead, enjoy it. There are about a hundred cops on the other side of that door ready to kill you all over again, and all they'll do for (y/n) is lock her up in Arkham."

I huff rolling my eyes leaning my head on Jerome's chest. "I see your point."

"So, when I was last, you know, uh, alive, I was about to kill Bruce Wayne. I suppose I didn't manage to-" We shake out heads. "No. Right. Theo Galavan killed me, that jug-eared Judas. Well, I suppose I should start by killing him. Does that sound like a good plan, doll? I'll let you get the first swing."

"Theo Galavan's dead, J." "Oh Who beat me to it?" "W-Which time?" I grit my teeth as I feel Jerome grow tense. "Galavan came back to life, too? That son of a bitch is always upstaging me. Well, I guess I'm just missing one thing, then." Jerome presses the gun to Lee's face again. "Where is my face?"

I push myself off the chair and tap Jerome's shoulder. "I can help with that." I turn on the TV finding the station showing Dwight making a speech wearing Jerome's face. Jerome watches the TV closely. "Huh. Interesting. Looks almost like my twin!" Jerome cackles with glee.

[themidnightfarmer]

Dave, meet smaller Dave || Dave & Jared

Timing: Before the end of the party.

Location: Jareds farm

Tagging: @seizethecarpe & themidnightfarmer

Description: Dave comes to meet his reward for helping Jared out.

Triggers: mind alteration tw, three eyed zombie goat tw

Jared was enthused by the idea that another person was going to be adding to the already large group of people on the farm enjoying the party. A party that had been running for three days at this point. Anyone coming in that wasn’t fae became addled, walking over stray sod patches that had cropped up at the gates. While no one was being forced to stay, many kept running into those patches of sod and ending up staying for longer. And anyone who had made it out the other side, found the whole party experience a haze, something most who had made it home had so far attributed to the alcohol and other substances circulating the place. The nymph was waiting for his VIP guest by the fences, swinging on the post holding it up idly until he thought he could see Dave. He raised a hand and waved vigorously, almost dislodging himself from the fence. “Welcome to the party!” he cheered.

Dave had to admit, having a little kiddy goat gruff named after him was a whole different thing than what he’d understood from Jared when he’d looked after the guy at that whole fiasco. This was kind of an honour, he guessed, although it was still a little weird. The second thing was, he was pretty sure Jared was tripping balls from the messages he’d seen. All the same, he was honour bound to show up. Say hi to the guy and the kid, and be on his merry way. Dave pulled up his van near the farm and hopped out, frowning at the number of people he heard. He waved back at Jared, his frown growing. “Think I missed the memo. Didn’t know you were throwing a party.”

“Did I not say the party would be going on?” Jared asked, but didn’t really give Dave much opportunity to answer that. “I could have been so sure I did. You don’t have to stay but I really wanted you to meet Dave!” The tall nymph bounded over to the man and gestured him through the gates. “Tiny Dave is having the time of his life, wouldn’t be fair not to invite his namesake to witness his first time jumping. Besides, I have to repay you for keeping me awake during all that stuff at Pats. We have food and drink, and I told a few folk that you were going to swing on by, they’re excited to meet bigger Dave!” The humans attending the party that had been within earshot of Jared typing (and reading aloud) his texts to Dave had all cheered when Jared had told them he was coming. Whether they remembered this or not was a mystery. 

“No, you just, uh, mentioned your goat,” Dave replied with a rough laugh, mostly because he was concerned. Real concerned. There sure were a group of people here, but for a party, the vibe seemed… hell, he had no idea. As he joined Jared through the gate, he wasn’t feeling as sure of things as when he’d started. It’d been a while since he’d been to a real party, maybe this was how they do, as the kids said. “Right, uh, alright. What sort of food?” Dave asked, looking around. Or at least, trying to look around, instead, he was looking up at the sky and down at the grass, and then up again, as if that’d help anything. “Now, hold on a minute, son, where the hell am I?”

It hadn’t been his intention to walk Dave through the gate with the stray sod in it. But the expression change on the man's face was unmistakable. In the headspace he was in Jared couldn’t feel sorry, he could only begin to get excited at what that could mean. Did this mean Dave would stay and party? His grin grew and he took the man's arm and started to tow him into the farmland further. “You came to the party to meet your nephew.” Jared cheered. “You’ll stay a while right? We have good food and everyone is really chilled out.” Although even as he asked this he started walking away from the crowds. Despite his addled mind, Jared was still being conscious that his kids shouldn’t be seen by the partygoers as well as the other way around. The animals had been fenced into the furthest pasture this past week for safety. But if Dave was going to meet tiny Dave it was time to breach the fence for a moment.

Dave couldn’t make heads nor tails of where he was going, nor did he have a goddamn idea where he had been. It didn’t look all the same, he could see the fences and barn and the farmhouse. Problems started when he was actively looking at them. They’d just slide right out of his vision, and the harder he looked, the faster he lost sight of them. “My nephew? Jared, I don’t got a nephew, he’s dead. Uh,” he looked around again, not that it helped in the slightest. “Well, if there’s food…” He trailed off, unable to remember his objections just seconds ago. “Do you know where we’re going? It’s not like me at all, but my sense of direction is all out of wack. Not sure I could tell you which way the sky was right about now.”

In any other mindset Jared would be incredibly upset that he’d made Dave admit to something as tragic as the death of a family member. But he was just as addled as the selkie was, just in a slightly different way. The nymph threw an arm over Dave's shoulders and continued to lead him towards a small barn further away from the commotion of the party. “I’m going to introduce you to tiny Dave, I named him after you and he’s cute as fuck but you gotta promise not to tell anyone about him. NO, don’t promise just like…...please say you won’t, no promises allowed.” Jared tugged on the latch and pushed the barn door open to be greeted by some pretty horrific cries. The little goats that surrounded them weren’t quite normal, but Jared still stooped down to coo at them. “Dave, meet the kids!” Scooping one up into his arms he dropped the kidd into the mans arms. “Dave meet smaller Dave!”

“Uh, we’re already acquainted, thanks, and I haven’t heard anyone call it tiny before,” Dave bristled at the mention of his tiny Dave. Oh, wait, shit, Jared was talking about the goat. How’d he already forgotten that? How had he assumed- ugh. Ugh. Something real weird was happening, but whenever Dave remembered that it slid right out of his head as if it was greased with Selkie slime. “Right, right, no promises, got it.” That should have rung some alarm bells, but instead… “I promise I won’t tell anyone about tiny Dave,” Dave said solemnly, following Jared into the barn. Where else was he supposed to go? When Jared stooped, Dave felt sharp vertigo, even more confused now the guy wasn’t standing next to him, down to one less point of reference to where he was. Dave looked up, and frowned at the complete absence of stars. Suddenly his arms were full of baby goat. Despite the whole world not making a lick of sense, Dave grinned at smaller Dave, holding him close. “You’re right, he is cute as fuck. Do all goats have three eyes? Have I just been looking at goats wrong my entire life?”

Jared was lost as to what Dave was speaking about, but in his mild confusion he laughed. Humans loved when people laughed at what they said. He was also too focused on his task of getting Dave into the second barn that he completely missed the man binding himself in a promise. The nymph was incredibly proud as Dave agreed that smaller goat Dave was cute. “Only the best goats have three eyes, but you can’t tell anyone that either. It’s a secret, people aren’t very nice to three eyes kids. But three eyed kids are great, they jump and play dead like the fainting goats people love, only when they play dead they actually play zombie!”

“Don’t worry, I get it. Not everyone is nice to people with teeth and pelts like mine, neither. But you’re a cute one, tiny Dave,” Dave announced, cooing at the goat in his arms in a very unDave way. “Oh, yes you are, yes you are. Oh, you wanna get down?” He asked as tiny Dave began to kick and twist in his arms a little. “Wait, hold up a minute now. What do you mean there’s goats that faint and play dead?” He tilted his head, wondering if he’d heard wrong. “Do you mean they eat brains? Jared, you’re getting more confusin’ by the minute.”

The wording once again went right over Jareds head, he was instead stuck smiling proudly as Dave cooed at the little demon in his arms. “I mean there’s goats that people like to film, you see tons of them on tiktok, when they hear a loud noise they go all stiff-” Jared demonstrated this by locking all of his limbs and tipping over. Not his smartest idea, as he let out a small pained ‘oof’ from the ground, but he bounced back up quickly enough. “They like brains, do you not? I hear people eat cooked brains sometimes and not just zombie like. But the kids don’t do cooked, only sun-warmed at best I’d say.” Confusing as it may be it was the truth. “Back to the party? You ready to get your dance on?”

“What the hell is a tikto- Oh shit, Jared-” Dave tried to catch him, missing by a mile. He stared in wide eyed confusion at the young man, and shared a look with tiny Dave. Tiny Dave got it. “What’cha do that for?” He asked, as Jared popped back up with a spring in his legs. “Uh, jesus, no, I don’t like brains. I like my meat and fish raw, but I don’t usually go for the brains. What?” He looked around, but the stray sod was everything, twisting his gaze every which way. Everything here was confusing. He needed to get back in the water, where it’d all make sense again. No, he prepared to tell Jared. “Sure.”

“Impression of a fainting goat...obviously Dave come on.” Jared clapped the man on the back with a laugh as if it was Dave that was the worse off for not grasping his actions, and not himself for the decision to topple over. “Great! There’s good music and we have food and it’ll be awesome!” The nymph linked arms with Dave once again, this time leading him away from the small hoard of three eyed goats and towards the doors to the barn again. “You can’t tell anyone you saw the kidds, they’re top secret hush hush. I don’t want anyone looking for them if they decide they want to be released into the wild rather than stay on the farm. Can’t have anyone looking for them you know? You get it right Dave?”

“How the hell is that obvious?” Dave replied, chuckling back although he didn’t know why. There was something in the air, had to be, this guy was nothing like what he’d seen before at Pat’s opening, but as Jared grabbed Dave’s arm and led him back out into the field, the stray sod clouded his mind like cotton candy all over again. Concepts like personal secrecy were all but gone. “Trust me kid, I get it. I swear on my wife’s grave, I ain’t ever telling anyone about your three eyes brain-eating goats. ‘Ere,” Dave reached into his mouth and pulled off his teeth caps, revealing long canines and teeth as sharp as any other seal’s. Sharper, even. 

The two hadn’t quite made it all the way back to the party when Dave took his tooth caps off. Jared fully stopped to look, his personal space boundaries completely shot due to his state of mind, so the nymph practically had his nose in the mans mouth looking at his teeth. “That’s mad cool!” He exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve only ever seen one other person with teeth like that and they’re wild cool too!” Thoughts of Skylar filled the nymphs mind and he smiled to himself, he should really find her and invite her to the party. Jareds focus however was brought back in when he blinked and caught sight of Daves teeth again. “How sharp?? Fang sharp? Shark sharp?”

The kid peered right up at Dave’s mouth, until Dave thought he was about to be kissed or something, which this place did not seem the right place for. But no, the guy was just peering at his mouth, and it took Dave a moment to realise why - because he was holding his teeth guards in his hands. How had he already forgotten that. “Seal sharp. Mind yourself kid, or I’ll bite your nose off.” The world seemed to spin again. “Hey, kid, I really gotta get back to my van.”

Jared slapped a hand over his nose and he recoiled from Dave with alarm before that action ended up relaxed into a laugh moments later. “Funny, funny.” His goal was to have as many people stay at the party as possible, but even in the state he was in he couldn’t bring himself to trap Dave more than he already had. His face crumpled into a pout but he looped his arm with Daves to take him back to the front gates. “I guess if you have to go, just come back soon okay?”

[clown-bait]

Paranormal Journeys Part 7 (Monster Roommate AU)

WOW I FINALLY DID IT. So I started a new job and things have been NUTS but this fic is not dead and I am determined to finish it. And dont you worry folks I’m a stubborn ass who does not quit. So here it is the next chapter. Leech gets tortured a bit and Penny visits an old friend. Hope you guys like it!

Ch 7 Mike Hanlon gets a Visitor

A screech echoed though the old barn of the former Hanlon sheep farm. Leech glanced furiously around the stall she was in. A moment ago she was full and happy then suddenly a cloth was pressed to her mouth and a bag over her head.

“WHO THE FUCK IS THE IDIOT THAT CHLOROFORMED ME!!” The vampire roared “CAUSE I’D LIKE TO KNOW WHO’S HEAD IM RIPPING OFF FIRST!”

Her head snapped in the direction of footsteps and she tried to charge with supernatural speed but felt a short chain attached to her neck snap tight. The nosferatu snapped her jaws in frustration.

“Ok guys get everything ready make sure the cameras are rolling and somebody wake up Chris.” Zander shouted as he approached the struggling vampire.

“Don't worry we’re going to help you.”

“BITCH THE ONLY HELP I NEED IS FINDING SPACE TO STORE YOUR LEFTOVERS!!” She snapped.

The ghost hunter pulled a cross from his coat and held it out at the nosferatu who began to hiss loud and sweat. He quickly put it away at her reaction.

“She's possessed all right, did you see how much she recoiled in terror? this is definitely a powerful demon were dealing with here”

“Demon?! Motherfucker I'm friends with demons, you wouldn't know a demon if it came up and bit you in the ass.” Leech spat and pulled on her chain.

“Note the foul language and denial. The creature that has ahold of her is definitely scared and trying to protect its self.”

“Protect myself from what? This shit show excuse of a reality tv exorcism? Tell ya what, if you free my hands i’ll spew pea soup at big boy over there and speak latin backwards. These shackles are tight as fuck can’t a girl get a little comfort?”

“Gosh its foul mouthed.” the bigger ghost hunter said to the team.

“Yeah thats how they are bro it's definitely going to try to provoke us. Whatever you do don't engage.” Zander said to his team mate while placing different items on a table

“You started it.” Leech mumbled. “What are those?”

“We're going to force you out of this poor girl.”

“AH! So its to be torture! I can cope with torture.” Leech flashed a cocky grin and wiggled her eyebrows expectantly.

“Did you…. steal that line from Princess Bride?” the bigger ghost hunter Rick asked her.

“Eeeyyy! Someone finally gets my references! And to think I was gonna eat this guy first!”

“RICK don't engage it!” Zander hissed

“Found our villain! Now tell me do you have six fingers on your left hand or am I gonna be calling you Humperdink”

“I think it was the right hand” Rick interjected

“Huh no shi-OW FUCK JESUS CHRIST!!!” Leech screamed as holy water was flung at her face by the lead ghost hunter. A cluster of painful burns began to bubble on her skin where the water had landed. “RUDE!”

“Silence demon!”

“I’M NOT A DEMON! GOD you are like the biggest edge lord! What’s next? You gonna start shouting bible verses too like they do in the movies?” she snarled as Chris walked in the room.

“Z I had the weirdest fucking dream.”

“Not now bro we’re doing the exorcism.”

“Yeah poorly. Bet you dickbags got all your training from bad horror movies and porn parodies.”

“Sheesh that thing is nasty” Chris winced

“Demon Dick 5?” the Rick asked as his companions glared at him in shock and annoyance.

“One of my favorites Rick. I like this guy have him do the exorcism!”

“We've already wasted enough time!” Zander shouted and picked up a book from the table he began to read a passage and Leech dramatically pretended to hiss and writhe her tongue lolling out of her mouth. “Hahaha Man oh man if Phil could hear you guys talking about him like this he'd be laughing with me just as hard! Shit wait somebody text him for me!”

“Why would we do that? Also who's phil?”

“Oh right, Phil is Satan we used to play poker together before my boyfriend banned it from the house. Not my doing for once lets get that clear.”

“Don't listen to a word its saying guys”

“Aw come on Humperdink let me just text my buddy once” her eyes flashed white over in Rick’s direction before being splashed with holy water once again. The nosferatu’s skin sizzled and steam rose from her burns. “J-just….text…LOL getting… a half assed….exorcism…hit send…. mph there.”

Chris glanced over to Rick who’s eyes had rolled up into his head he was holding her cellphone which just buzzed with a notification. “RICK SNAP OUT OF IT!” he shouted and turned to the grinning vampire pelting a rock at her face. “LET HIM GO”

Leech spat as the stone broke her nose and looked back up sticking her tongue out through the black ichor dripping down her face.

“CHRIS! Control yourself!” Zander shouted and Leech winked back at the two.

“Read it Ricky!” she smirked.

“I-it says R-O-F-L cant be there, at yoga getting this ass….its a picture of a goat and a woman’s back side” Rick’s eyes rolled back down and Leech vomited a small amount of black goo onto the barn floor. “Phew that took more out of me than I thought” she muttered and panted.

“RICK!”

“I'm sorry she did something to my head!”

“Ok but can you at least show the picture though?” the vampire asked looking up from her now bruising eye and nose.

“NO!” the other two ghost hunters turned and shouted.

“OH COME ON! I wanna see that booty”

“WOW this thing is terrible!” Chris glanced over at Zander who was prepping to try another round of bible verses.

“I know bro this is one of the nastiest ones we've dealt with! This is pure evil we’re dealing with here.” The lead ghost hunter clapped his friend on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Aww I'm blushing! you really mean it?!” the vampire shouted to them

“Bro hand me my rosary.”

“What are those? Anal beads? So you HAVE seen Demon Dick 5!”

Zander got close and began to shout “IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST I COMMAND YOU TO GET OUT OF THIS WOMANS BODY”

“Hahaha that was totally a direct quote.” Leech laughed again but was cut short when the silver cross dangled in front of her face “FUCK GET IT AWAY!” She hissed and the ghost hunter dangled it closer to her. Leech could feel her skin burn with heat where it drew close. The ghost hunter threw another wave of holy water at her and she hissed in pain face turning skeletal for a second as her skin sizzled. “A-all right if were gonna get straight into the kinky stuff we should at least have a safe word. Mine’s usually Float.” she tried to joke through the pain. Her skin was on fire with the crucifix being so close.

“Z I don't think she's a demon” Rick said tugging on his leaders arm

“Rick I’ve been at this way longer than you I know a demon when I see one”

“Bullshit you're doing this all wrong. Plus Im not a demon I can prove it too if you hand me that orange.” Leech panted.

“I don't know Z this could be a trick” Chris said with worry.

“Look have you ever seen one do some of the shit she just did? Just hand her the orange”

“Fine Rick. Fine. We’ll humor you but if nothing happens we’re getting right back to the exorcism.”

Zander rolled the fruit over to the vampire who glared up at him from her knees “You gonna undo my hands so I can eat this?”

“No.”

“Weeeelllll fuck you then! So much for what’s left of my dignity.” she grumbled and bent down to the floor biting into the fruit as best she could to suck out the juice. “Ahm hoing to rerhet hiss ho huch…” she said while her fangs sunk in. Leech came up with a weak expression on her battered and burnt face looking nauseous and dizzy. “You're all gonna wanna stand back when I- HURK!” the vampire suddenly lurched forward and spewed out blood and guts onto the barn floor in an inhuman amount. She kept going for a solid five minutes until Leech was slumped over supported by the chain around her neck. “Huh, is that an engagement ring? Shit I need to chew my food.” she wheezed before emptying the rest of her stomach contents.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?!” all three ghost hunters screamed in unison.

“Yeah lets see Pazuzu pull that shit!” Leech grinned declaring victory before shouting at some unknown force in the ground “YOU HERE THAT ZUZU I JUST OUT WEIRDED YOU! WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW BITCH!? PEA SOUP GOT NOTHING ON ME!”

“Zander! If this is not a demon then what the hell is she bro?” Chris turned to his leader in a panic

“Nosferatu.” a vaguely familiar female voice said walking into the barn “What you're dealing with is a nosferatu.”

leech sniffed the air and snarled in disgust.

“Fuck.”

———————————————————————-

Somewhere in the town of Derry, Mike Hanlon was laying in his bed coming down from another high. It was time to turn in for the night but with all that had been going on the last couple days the librarian needed a fix…. just a quick one to calm the nerves. His night would be anything but calm when two glowing yellow eyes lit up his room like the obnoxious christmas lights his neighbors had set up.

“Mike” something whispered in the dark “Mike! Help us!” came another disembodied voice. He knew them all too well. The librarian sat up in his bed glancing around his room unaware of the creeping fingers clawing up his mattress. Burnt hands wrapped around the terrified man pinning him down while a disheveled looking monster from his childhood nightmares stepped into the moonlight.

“Thought you could trick me did ya Mikey? Thought you could fool Ol’Pennywise by taking what he loves most. Stupid boy! Stupid, stupid, stupid! No one fools me. no one.” the clown began his voice shaky and dangerous trying to mask the obvious panic behind it as he paced. The creature’s posture and gait reminded him of a nervous caged animal unpredictable and dangerous. Something was very wrong with IT.

“Y-you? W-hy are you here?” the librarian asked cautiously.

“TELL ME where she is SHEEP BOY. Tell Penny where his peachy is and he’ll make it much much quicker for you. Yes! A quick death or a slow one pick your path!” he snarled as Mike was trying to decide if he was still high.  

“A-are you real?”

“REAL? Real THIS ISNT REAL ENOUGH FOR YOU MIKEY?”

Mike’s stomach flip flopped in realization of the little reminder of all those years ago. IT had to be real and now IT was in his bedroom.

“Penny knows you need time, yes iIknow you haven't figured out that stupid reptile’s riddles. Don't you fret sheep boy I am just here for her this time. Bring her to me, bring me my mate and you can go back to trying to understand what mortals cannot.” IT was frantically babbling around his room pacing like a tiger in a small cage looking almost fearful its self. Mike remembered that look well the last emotion he saw on ITs face before it vanished down that hole. Something was very, very wrong.

“A mate? …You?!” he asked trying to keep the creature talking to piece the situation together as best he could.

The clown shot him an unamused look as if this was far from the first time someone has asked that. “Where is my Leechie!? I am the questioner here!”

“You're talking about Lucy right? Something’s happened to her?”

“Lucy… Lucy yes, yes her human name. Don’t play games sheep boy release her to me!” Pennywise snarled while he stalked beginning to impatiently kick things over and sniff items of clothing desperate for that sweet smell of blood and ashes.

“Even if I did know where she is, why would I help you?”

The clown roared and charged forward coming in close to the trapped man on the bed fangs bared long and needle like. IT spat in Mike’s face drool and bits of flesh hitting his skin as it spoke. Something was very off with IT more so than usual, as if possessed by some sort of ancient instinct overriding its usual demeanor.

“You want to stop me don't you? I’ll let you live Mikey! Yesss I’ll let you try! One free shot! Just give me my Peachy!” IT was bargaining now just like it did in the cistern 27 years ago. The clown must be desperate.

“I don't have her” the librarian spat back at the clown who snarled and grabbed his throat. Suddenly Mike felt searing pain in his mind as IT forcibly invaded his thoughts its eyes blackened on the edges pupils drifting off into different directions till he found what he was looking for and returned them to focus. IT’s face changed again from rage, to shock and finally to embarrassment. In IT’s hate fueled assault on its enemy IT had made a grave mistake. Mike had nothing to do with his precious mate. In fact all Pennywise had done was just reveal his greatest weakness to his greatest enemy. IT had messed up and it had messed up bad.

The clown released the librarian and awkwardly backed up off the bed eyes large and wide. Wordlessly, IT glanced over to Mike’s bedroom door and without breaking eye contact opened it while silently slinking out like a dog with its tail between its legs. The hands around the librarian vanished into smoke and everything became calm and quiet around him. “What the hell just happened?” he asked the empty void not expecting to get a response and not sure if he wanted one either.

———————————

Pennywise returned to his home to find his…..friends? Seated on his couch awaiting the result of his hasty impromptu rescue mission. That, and they were probably mad that he tore Freddy’s head back off in rage. Even his cat seemed a bit upset with him.

“Well? Did you embarrass yourself?” Chucky asked him taking a drag from one of Leech’s joints.

“It…..it wasn't the librarian…” the clown muttered.

“Oh yeah he embarrassed himself.” Freddy laughed still applying a few more staples to his neck.

“Hey if Fangs doesn't come back can I use her room? Thinkin’ about making it into a nice man cave” Chucky boldly asked earning him a death glare from the distressed clown.

Penny snarled and shooed everyone away from his couch snatching up Church to absentmindedly pet as if the cat was a coping mechanism for his current state. What if she doesn't come back? There were emotions he was feeling he didn't think were possible. His new strange instinct to protect driving him to near insanity as he was currently in a constant war with himself to drive the feeling back. Nature and ego raged war inside the eldritch being.

His inner thoughts were interrupted when the door to Neibolt House creaked open the residents all took their leave except the owner who still sat on his couch stroking his cat not wanting to put any effort into this one.

“H-Hello?” a voice called out. “Uh clown? Pennywise?” Mike had never actually called the clown by name before it felt weird on his tongue.

Something appeared behind the librarian blocking his exit.

“What do you want” IT hissed low and in a whisper. Mike turned to see the god of fear its self looming behind him with a plump dirty grey cat tucked under its arm. The two stared at each other in hatred and confusion. The librarian looked at Church and back to the clown.

“Is that a cat?”

“Possibly..”

“Are you going to explain why you have it?”

“No.”

“….what the hell happened to you?” Mike whispered half to the clown half to himself.

“Why are you here?” pennywise snarled growing impatient.

“I cant believe I'm saying this but I'm here to….help.”

“YOU WHAT?!” the house shook with the inhuman roar released from Pennywise’s throat.

“LET ME EXPLAIN HOLD ON!” the librarian put his hands out in an attempt to calm the savage beast who had nearly thrown the animal in its arms.

“You have five seconds human before I tear out your eyes.”

“Look you want your…uh girlfriend or whatever she is back. I need more time to figure out how to kill you.”

“Is this a bargain?” the clown raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

“Whoever has her is most likely trying to get to you and will try to harm you as well. We both know all they will do is send you back to sleep and if that happens I can’t stop you and you lose the girl. I can help you get her back. I have a way into the farm, and I can distract whoever has her as a friendly face. Then we can go back to trying to kill each other, business as usual.”

The clown glared at mike with a fury that made the librarian tremble with fear. This had been a mistake he was going to die and everything will be ruined on this stupid risk.

“You dare assume I cannot solve my own problems sheep boy?? What’s to stop me from tearing you apart right now.”

“That.” Mike pointed behind the clown. Pennywise slowly turned to see a box with a balloon tied to it specifically just to mock him. The clowns eyes grew wide as he sniffed the air and saw the black ooze leaking out of the corner of the cardboard. With careful claws he opened the lid and peered inside letting out one of the most horrifying sounds Mike Hanlon had ever heard in his life. The box was thrown to the floor and an object rolled out of it. It was a cold pale finger tipped with a sharp feminine nail and the blood that leaked from it was black.

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

Uh oh what did Leechie do this time? Poor clown be going NUTS over all this. Im so excited to do some frenemy shit with Pen and Mike like Ive been DYING to get here. Also its Leech’s turn to meet an old enemy. Wonder who it is?

[msfcatlover]

Day 10: Craziest Thing to Happen at Your Table

(D&D 30 Day Challenge)

Oh boy... Listen, up until a couple weeks ago, I’d’ve been torn between that time J’s Gargoyle cannonballed a ship, destroying the entire encounter before it even began, and the time in a different campaign K’s Barbarian charged a Minotaur and both of them critted, and maybe even The Bear Trap Incident. But now...

Listen up, folks, because this is the story of why you triple-check what your items do. It’s the “PG-13″ Evil Campaign, and two people at our table are playing Gnomes; one is an Alchemist, and the other is a Flame Oracle. We’re playing the Ways of the Wicked story campaign, and are getting our collective asses handed to us by a self-healing Lightening Elemental at the top of the Horn of Abaddon. 

The Elemental gets a swipe in at the Oracle, who is currently flying above it on wings of flame. The Oracle declares that now he’s angry, so he’s going to fly up a short distance, drop his bag, and cast Fireball on it.

The DM asks what’s in the bag. (Are you ready, kids? *deep breath*)

The Oracle has been carrying, this entire time:  10 flasks of Oil  a full horn (10 doses) of Black Powder  3 bottles of Keros Oil  1 bottle of Biju (very high-proof alcohol) and not one but 2 Skyrocket Fireworks.  All of which, he just dropped. And then cast an 8th level Fireball on.

The DM repeatedly asks if he’s actually doing this. The Oracle cheerfully insists that he is. The DM then tells everyone to roll a reflex save.

Because Oil, friends? Adds 10ft to the radius of any fire effect it is subject too. Per bottle.

The Oracle tries to rules-lawyer his way out of it at this point, which leads to the DM getting spiteful about his semantics; see, technically dropping an item is a move action, which the Oracle already said he took, right? Well, no, the DM rules, because he said it was a short distance, not how far it was, and a 5ft step is a free action. So he still had a move action with which to drop it, and now it’s locked in, so the Oracle has to start rolling damage. 

8d6 for the Fireball. An additional 10d6 for the Bottles of Oil. 10d8 for the Black Powder, and another 3d8 for the Keros Oil (it burns hotter, after all.)

(The DM didn’t even make him roll for the Biju or Fireworks. I imagine they mainly just made things prettier at that point.) (For the record, I was dead by the end of the Oil roll. Dead-dead. Negative 23HP.)

“Wow!” you’re probably thinking, “An 18d6+13d8 blast! You’re right, that is crazy!” Well, buckle up, friends, we’re not done! Because even before the oil was added?  The Alchemist had just stepped into the blast radius!

So as the Oracle rolls fistfuls of dice, and I count them out for him to save time, the DM turns to the Alchemist and asks him what he’s carrying. And you can see the color drain out of the poor guy’s face.

Remember that ridiculous blast? Well now add: 5 flasks of Alchemist’s Fire 2 flasks of Alkali Acid 10 Flash Bombs and 5 Fuse Grenades. 5d6, 2d6, 10d8, and 15d6 (three per grenade!)

.

In the end, the grand total of that collective 

40d6+23d8 

blast? Was

178 points of damage.

Roll reflex to halve.

.

In-character, we all watched as the Oracle, with a maniacal grin on his face, dropped the bag and cast. 

The Alchemist saw the Fireball coming towards him, looked at the bomb in his hand, did a mental tally of his inventory, and swept off his tophat in a dramatic bow.

The top came off the mountain.  Across the ocean, the fighting stopped as they heard a mysterious clap of thunder. 

In the cavern, seven assholes and one Lightening Elemental had just been atomized.

.

And then... we woke up. The DM had the powerful lich we were working for use a time-displacement spell to resurrect us from the split instant before we were dust on the wind. We quickly confiscated the bag of explosives, and then all went to separate corners to have an existential crisis.

You know? Very little will ever top that.

[lair-of-books]

Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish in June of 2010 and was moved to That Artsy Reader Girl in January of 2018. It was born of a love of lists, a love of books, and a desire to bring bookish friends together. This weeks topic was a walk in the park cause I’m sure a lot of us have already started compiling & organizing our Goodreads shelves with 2020 titles. This will be the first year my list includes multiple genres & that’s because YA hasn’t been my primary focus. I still consume a fair amount of YA Fantasy however in an effort to continue reading what brings me joy in the new year, this list will be a mixed bag 😉

P.S. I sure did throw in 2 additional titles cause I just couldn’t stick to 10 #noregrets

The Girl and the Stars (Book of the Ice #1) by Mark Lawrence 

Releasing on 4/30/2020 is the next adult Fantasy series by the King himself Mark Lawrence! That cover is EVERYTHING! Mark Lawrence is one of my auto-buy authors. I don’t need to know much about the book & prefer to go in on good faith. I read just the one line on Goodreads that gave me all the chills & solidified its place on this list…

“In the ice, east of the Black Rock, there is a hole into which broken children are thrown.”

House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas

Releasing on 3/3/2020 is Sara J. Maas 1st Adult Fantasy & for those of us who’ve read Maas YA Fantasy, the anticipation is pretty HIGH!

The story of half-Fae and half-human Bryce Quinlan as she seeks revenge in a contemporary fantasy world of magic, danger, and searing romance.

This one can go either way, Maas can either really kill it in Urban Fantasy or leave much to be desired. Either way, I will be picking up a copy to see for myself.

Wild at Heart (Wild #2) by K.A. Tucker

More Calla & Jonah?!? ummm YES PLEASE! 3/3/2020 is going to be one EPIC release day <3’s!  The Simple Wild (my spoiler free review) was one of my TOP favorite reads in 2019. I’ve been a K.A. Tucker fan for the past 4 years & there hasn’t been anything she’s written I haven’t enjoyed. Take me back to Alaska & I will unplug myself from reality for these 400 pages 😉

You Had Me at Hola by Alexis Daria 

I came from a generation where little girls watched telenovelas with grandma & it was perfectly normal haha! I myself have some really fond memories in fact of watching Spanish stories with G’ma & so seeing this cover stopped me dead in my tracks. “Perfect for fans of Jane the Virgin & The Kiss Quotient” this Own Voices Contemporary Romance is exactly what I would LOVE to see more of in the bookish world *fingers crossed* this book will hit shelves on 7/7/2020.

The Last Train to Key West by Chanel Cleeton 

6/16/2020 We head over to Fictional Key West to follow the lives of three women in the aftermath of a powerful hurricane. Set in the 1930’s this is one historical fiction stemming from the Cuban Revolution I am eager to read. I have copies of Next Year in Havana & When We Left Cuba  I still haven’t read but are at the VERY top of my TBR for 2020.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

“He is trying to poison me. You must come for me, Noemí. You have to save me.

After receiving a frantic letter from her newly-wed cousin begging for someone to save her from a mysterious doom, Noemí Taboada heads to High Place, a distant house in the Mexican countryside. She’s not sure what she will find — her cousin’s husband, a handsome Englishman, is a stranger, and Noemí knows little about the region.”

Ok so everything about this author screams READ ME! & I’ve collected a couple of their books but I think I’ve allowed myself to be creeped out into thinking the writing might be too scary. Whelp! I simply can’t pass this one up with THAT cover! Set in Mexico, this MC doesn’t exactly scream rescuer material & yet I’m so down to see the type of amateur sleuthing sure to ensue in this Mexican countryside house. Still…this one does creep me out a smidge & I will be reading during the day.

  The Gilded Ones (Deathless #1) by Namina Forna 

“The start of a bold and immersive West African-inspired, feminist fantasy series for fans of Children of Blood and Bone and Black Panther. In this world, girls are outcasts by blood and warriors by choice.”

Releasing on 5/26/2020, The Gilded Ones looks absolutely promising! This one features a female army all of which have powers like our MC training to defeat the empires biggest threat but nothing & no one is as they seem. Super curious seeing as I’m a HUGE fan of both Children of Blood and Bone & Black Panther to which this new series has been compared.

The City We Became by N.K Jemisin 

Five New Yorkers must come together in order to defend their city in the first book of a stunning new series by Hugo award-winning and NYT bestselling author N. K. Jemisin.

Every city has a soul. Some are as ancient as myths, and others are as new and destructive as children. New York City? She’s got five.

But every city also has a dark side. A roiling, ancient evil stirs beneath the earth, threatening to destroy the city and her five protectors unless they can come together and stop it once and for all.

This fellow New Yorker CANNOT wait for 3/26/2020! N.K. Jemisin is yet another author I am prioritizing this year.

All the Stars and Teeth by Adalyn Grace

Mermaids and Pirates! oh my! legit two of my very favorite fictional beings. I know a few close friends have already reviewed their copies (I’ll be reading mine this month) & are giving it HIGH praise. After getting a taste of a underwater kingdom in Holly Blacks The Folk of the Air trilogy, I was left wanting more. I’m hoping this is the start of a new expansive underwater YA Fantasy, either way 4/4/2020 we take to the treacherous waters!

Undercover Bromance (Bromance Book Club #2) by Lyssa Kay Adams

The Bromance Book Club was a 2019 favorite for me & now we get more as we follow Braden mack & Liv Papandreas. This time around the club is not reading a regency romance, instead they’ll be reading a romantic suspense novel that ties in with this couples story. STOKED! I was blessed by the Book Gods with an early copy before its 3/10/2020 release date.

INCENDIARY (Hollow crown #1) by Zoraida Cordova 

Zoraida Cordova is quickly becoming a favorite auto-buy author, she won me over with her Brooklyn Burjas series & now this cover has blown me away! this one follows a female MC who has the power to steal memories which set the King upon her & her people. Now a rebel, our MC is helping others escape the Kingdom. When her love interest gets captured she has to maintain control of her need for vengeance while she infiltrates the Kingdom. I’m ready for 4/28/2020! *Heart Eyes* 

Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo 

Elizabeth Acevedo stole my heart with her raw narratives! This is one I CANNOT wait to get my hands on, 5/14/2020 cannot come soon enough. This time we follow two teens girls brought together by grief. One lives in the Dominican Republic & the other in NYC when they find out their father has passed away (ooooF! this will be triggering for me but if anyone can handle this with sensitivity it’s Acevedo) & that they’re sisters! Dual narrative POV’s, I’m pretty sure I’ll also be getting the audiobook to accompany my physical copy cause if ya didn’t know, Elizabeth Acevedo narrates her own books & she’s AMAZING! *STOKED*

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Top Ten Tuesday: Most Anticipated Book Releases for the First Half of 2020 Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish in June of 2010 and was moved to 

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When gospel sermons came on the phonograph

http://bit.ly/2vHmMlz

Oak Grove Acapella Singers, a Gospel group of Chester County, Tennessee, being recorded while singing in the office of the preacher at the Oak Grove Church of Christ. Tennessee State Library and Archives, CC BY-NC-ND

The first truly African-American musical form, the “Spirituals,” took shape in the 17th and 18th centuries within the generations of slaves born into the tough American experience. Music was a daily part of their survival and sustenance.

Spirituals were sung “a cappella,” that is, without instrumental accompaniment. Voices were blended over rhythms provided by clapping hands, stamping feet and makeshift percussion. The words and melodies were improvised, not written down and never sung the same way twice. The singers remained untrained in the formalities of music.

Anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston attributed the power and beauty of spirituals to these very qualities. As she wrote,

“Its truth dies under training like flowers under hot water.”

These early songs, over a hundred or more years later, gave rise to 20th century gospel music as well as secular genres including blues and jazz, R&B (rhythm and blues) and doo-wop, a style of ‘50s vocal group pop.

As an author of a book on the gospel canon, Great God A’Mighty! The Dixie Hummingbirds: Celebrating the Rise of Soul Gospel Music, I have been particularly drawn to a compelling but lesser known outgrowth of the spiritual tradition – the African-American “folk” preachers.

These folk preachers blended homespun sermon and song to offer life lessons on how to survive in a world of inequality and virulent racism.

Recording sermons

A phonograph. Javier Kohen, CC BY-SA

While the folk preachers may have perfected their preaching skills in Southern churches, they broadened their reach through phonographs records. From the mid-1920s well into the Depression, there were roughly 85 preachers whose hundreds of singing sermons were recorded and heard throughout the black community nationwide via 78-rpm records.

On their records – none longer than three minutes in duration – the preachers, in “call and response” with a handful of select “sanctified” congregants, would sing and opine in rhythm and rhyme about everyday realities like “always pay your furniture man” or “is there harm in singing the blues?”

Their records were advertised in nationally distributed black newspapers, such as The Pittsburgh Courier and The Chicago Defender. Their names were famous within the African-American community and some of the better sellers included Rev. J. C. Burnett, Rev. T.N.T. Burton, Rev. A.W. Nix, and Rev. Sundown Jesse. The most prolific of all was Rev. J. M. Gates of Atlanta, Georgia. His more than a hundred sermons were released on a variety of labels – Paramount, Columbia, Vocalion, Okeh, and Victor – that specialized in records that catered to “race.”

The case of Rev. Gates

What gave Gates prominence, besides his stellar performances, were his sensational titles, many drawn from Biblical verse, others from African-American vernacular. The titles enticed people to buy the record to find out more.

“Dead Cat on the Line” was Rev. Gates taking on marriage infidelity. He opened the sermon by saying,

“If a child is no way like his father, there’s a dead cat on the line.”

His reference was to a time when a cat might get up on the power lines and die from electrocution, cutting off telegraph signals so no messages could get through. The phrase meant “we’re not communicating here.” But with the dead cat festering up there, Gates was also alluding to the problems of infidelity.

Dead Cat on the Line.

“Kinky Hair is No Disgrace” spoke to demoralization stemming from negative value placed on “negro” features.“ Gates preached,

"Skin and hair don’t make the inside of man or woman good…Remember that God looks on the inside and man looks on the outside…And a whole lot of this hair straightening is just strictly so men can see it…You needn’t worry about your hair…You straighten your heart or your brain…Get something straight on the inside. You know it!”

Kinky Hair is No Disgrace.

And his masterpiece was based on a line from the Gospel of Matthew, “Straining at a Gnat and Swallowing a Camel.” “Straining at a gnat,” implied getting worked up about small matters, and “swallowing a camel,” was a reminder to people about missing what was truly important right in front of them, in this case the incongruities of racism. He sang,

Straining at a Gnat and Swallowing a Camel.

“You! You negro-haters. You that can’t sit with him on the street car. You that can’t eat at the same table with him. I’m talking about you who can’t sit in your own automobile with him. Aah, but I’ll tell you what you can do. You can eat what they cook. Sleep in their bed. You can let them drive your car while you sit in the rear and he handle your life in his hands. You’re straining at a gnat and swallowin’ a camel.”

The music of Rev. Gates and his fellow preachers provided the sonic moments for the religious seeds of the budding Civil Rights Movement.

Jerry Zolten does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.