#<- from my laptop. its a real hassle. also all asks sent AFTER this are fine... those before this anon are invisible from my desktop tho

[ask2ps]

i really wanna bite a biggg chunk out of 2p italyy

JAPAN: (For some reason, the inbox bugged, and only this message was visible. Quite sinister.) JAPAN: (Please refrain from hexing us in the future.)

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Roman Castile: Passion and duty

Roman finds that his different passions seem to get in each other's way for now. But one day, he will find a balance.

“Ugh! I am done!” Roman exclaimed relieved, barely hearing the hissed warning from the librarian. Homework had been draining. Sure they’d had fun. Especially when it came to teasing Virgil about his pronunciation when they worked on Spanish.

Still Roman was ready to do literally anything else.

“Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” Virgil muttered absentmindedly. Roman knew that Virgil had rewritten that particular assignment two times already.

“Want me to read it trough for you?” Roman offered. Maybe hearing someone say that it was good would be enough to stop him from second guessing himself again.

“You don’t…”  Virgil started, somehow looking guilty.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble,” he assured him. Virgil offered him a small smile and a nod in response. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed.

Roman took peace with that and opened his notebook to start doodling.

He had a few ideas for some more shirt designs. He’d enjoyed making his ‘coming out’ shirt. Then there was the Halloween party and every other social event this year has to offer where he had to slay. Junior year was a year to be noticed. Nothing wrong with putting down some ideas in advance. He just might come across the perfect outfit.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes,” Virgil noted and Roman nearly fell of his chair when he jumped at his sudden proximity.

“Will you stop that!?” A thing about Virgil Roman had learned over the last week. He always seemed to pop up out of nowhere. One minute he’s gushing over the latest Disney trailer with André and suddenly Virgil stands next to him giving his two cents. It was terrifying.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?”

Roman’s eyes widened. Making amazing outfits for a living? He could make a whole ‘wear your pride’ line and… Oh… Oh…!

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed. He’d had no idea what he wanted to do with his future, aside from hero work, but now the idea was brought up he wanted nothing else. Fashion designer, superhero, actor, maybe also Mr. Castile-Anker. That was a future he could look forward to!

Virgil chuckled. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” He was. He’d been shown some alternative designs by Manifestor and found Virgil’s drawing among them and immediately declared that that was the one.

As he’d told Roman, he’d changed a few things. He’d shown him on Wednesday to get his stamp of approval. Roman had gushed unapologetically, because he knew he’d have to tone it back a bit in front of the team.

Which had been hard.

Tonight he’d be taking it for a test run and he’d make sure to be seen by people and cameras.

“We’ll see,” Virgil smiled as he pushed his laptop with his assignment towards Roman.

Roman read it, dropping the subject without problem.

Virgil was easy to be friends with and he’d quickly learned to read his moods.

During lunch Virgil usually sat himself a little bit away from the group when he felt the need to just focus on his music and sketch a little before heading back to class. He was sarcastic, witty and could dish it out about as well as he could take it.

He was also very guarded emotionally, which Roman could understand, but whenever they were just the two  of them, Virgil opened up some more. He’d learned about Virgil’s soon to be stepdad and the admittedly adorable meet cute he’d been a part of.

He knew that Virgil’s dad had found them a new home and they’d moved in just that week.

He learned that Virgil was mature and his dad’s only wingman which they both agreed was super awkward but also hilarious.

Roman had joked that Virgil might end up being his father’s best man. But apparently there was a family friend ‘uncle Thomas’ who might get that position.

Virgil had gone out with another girl that week. Anna, who’d had English with him last year or something. Virgil had listened patiently, but relatively unaffected to her asking him out and arranged another semi-date at the music store for the next evening. Luckily nothing came from it again. Roman asked him why he kept saying yes to people he barely knew. Virgil explained that he had missed out on enough chances to befriend others. So the way he saw it he’d at the very least get a friend out of it. Roman kind of took comfort in that. It didn’t sound like Virgil was trying to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend right now. Just trying to socialize. Roman had reminded Virgil to watch his boundaries though. He wouldn’t want him to push himself out of fear he’d be missing out.

One more thing he learned about Virgil: he was overly critical of himself.

“Well, I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge,” Roman concluded as he returned Virgil’s laptop to him.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!” he grinned.

Virgil chuckled and lead the way. Soon they were sat at a table with their orders and they were talking about everything and nothing. It was great. And Roman was so close to asking Virgil out but…

“So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…?” he asked curiously after seeing the caller ID.

“Darling. I know you are out with your friend. But I wanted you to know we’re headed to the university now,” his mother informed him. The university… Wait. “Que?” Roman looked at his watch incredulously. He was going to be late. Unless he left right now that is.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and dug through his wallet for some money.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills that should more than cover the tab and the tip before rushing away.

How was it so late already?

He sprinted around a few corners and found a spot to get changed. BS had explained about the sciency stuff behind his costume change, but all Roman really cared about was that he basically had a magical boy transformation. Sure he could sit there and let the tech do its thing, but it was much more fun to make up a cool transformation sequence.

First, hair. He retrieved a lip balm like object and applied the substance to his hairline. He tucked the balm away and with one smooth movement of his hand he styled and recolored his hair. Instead of parted in the middle with regal waves it was flicked to the back, save for a single rebellious strand dangling down his forehead. Instead of a deep ash brown it was warm chestnut in color.

Then he took a tini metallic bead from a ring on his finger and tapped it against his temple, before he swiped his hand in front of his eyes as his mask placed itself securely on his face, changing his eye color in the process. He tapped his wrists together in front of his chest and brought them down with force, feeling his blazer and shirt get replaced by the skintight suit. He tapped his right heal against his left before taking another power position and finishing his costume change.

How cool was his life?!

He created a platform to lift himself to the roof and sprinted towards the university. The GTH was in it’s basement. As he made his way there he started to think over asking Virgil out again.

Maybe, now wasn’t the time. Virgil was clearly still upset about the whole Janus thing. He didn’t say it but Roman could tell. And he didn’t want Virgil to think for even a second that Roman’s crush was anything less than genuine, he had noticed that Virgil still had trouble believing their friendship was real at times. Not to mention that starting a relationship with someone while he was still figuring out how to balance out superhero and civilian life was clearly a bad idea. He couldn’t even ask him out without being interrupted by his other life.

So, he'd wait until he had his life in order and he was sure Virgil was ready. There was definitely some kind of connection between them. And Roman was willing to wait until the time was right…

He knew he was being a coward, but his friendship with Virgil was so fragile.

He entered the basement campus with little hassle and dropped of his bag in his personal locker, making sure to lock it. If anyone with ill intent got in here they could easily find out his identity with it's contents and Roman didn’t want his name out like that. Not yet at least.

He hurried to the training hall, threw open the doors and slid inside.

“Your prince has returned!” he exclaimed, doing a pretty good job at pretending he hadn't just sprinted the whole way there.

“Has he now?” BS asked, apparently in a bad mood today.

“Oh come now big S, the boy is just excited for his present! I would be too if I got a new costume made for me by a secret admirer,” Sweets offered with a calming hand on BS' shoulder. Sweets was an empath. He could share his emotions and those of others, perfect match for someone who wants or needs to keep his calm.

But what sweets said made Roman rather flustered. “I don't think DreamPrince has had enough appearances to already gain such attentions. Whoever did this just couldn't stand to look at this any longer.” Roman gestured to his current costume.

“Speaking of which…” he held out his hand bouncing on his feet in excitement. He was supposed to meet the chief of police today and he wanted to look presentable.

Manifestor chuckled from his spot on the desk. “Give the boy his stuff. He's been looking forward to this day for the past four years.”

BS sighed and handed Roman a small box, which the young hero snatched up before rushing to the dressing room.

He turned his suit off and took off the containment units. He opened the box and switched the old units for the new ones. The bracelets were more comfortable and adjusted to his skin tone, the metal bead was replaced with two skin colored stickers he applied to his temples.

“Let’s do this,” Roman smirked excitedly.

“To adventure!” he called out as he crossed his arms and tapped at his temples while simultaneously clicking his wrists together. At the same time he tapped his right toe behind his left heel and brought his ankles together. He struck a power pose, facing the full length mirror and grinned excitedly. Virgil had added an insignia on his cape and golden trimming in the final design. There'd been a few options for his emblem and Roman had chosen the shield with a castle by the sea with the sun shining down on him. He looked quite dashing.

He left the dressing room and handed the box back to BS with an elegant gesture.

BS wasn't amused. Sweets and Manifestor on the other found it hilarious.

“So? What do you think?” Roman asked as he turned around to show off the end result.

A loud ‘bing' announced a message from his family watching from the observation room.

“Gaaaaaaay!” Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly. Remus was a fan.

“Stay away from Planes!” the next one read. Roman chuckled. He had asked Virgil about the cape, considering he’d expected someone as cautious as him to heed Edna Mode's advice.

Apparently Virgil had intended the Cape to be an addition for official events. So ‘Prince’ would look good on camera. He'd also pointed out that it would look badass for the prince to un-claps his Cape before a fight. He'd had a point and Roman actually loved it.

“You look very handsome darling.”

“Thanks mom!” Roman called out.

Then two beeps came from a device on BS wrist. He looked down and relaxed, tapping away at a holographic screen, turning up the intensity of his shadow. “The chief is here,” he announced.

Roman raised an eyebrow, that was not what BS had been so tense about. Something in his private life maybe? If that was the case he'd never find out.

Roman had no time to worry about that though. The door opened and in walked the police chief. A small but commanding African American woman. It was something in the way she walked that made Roman want to stand at attention. And so he did. He wasn't the only one.

“DreamPrince, at your service ma’am,” Roman introduced himself respectfully.

“So you are what all the fuss is about?” she asked as she looked Roman up and down.

Chief Davies pursed her lips before nodding to herself. “I’ve read your file, you’re quite the prodigy aren’t you?” she asked.

Roman chuckled a little awkwardly. “I’ve just been training from a young age, that’s all.” Most gifted didn’t realize their talent until they were well in their teens.

“Good answer. I have no time to stroke an adolescent ego. We’ve got work to do.”

Chief Davies turned to Manifestor. “You got the files I sent?”

Manifestor nodded hurriedly. “Yes. I had no time to review them though.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” she announced dismissively. The leader of Roman’s training team nodded and tapped at something on his wrist. The screen that had shown the messages from Roman’s family earlier was now filled with mugshots.

The men looked dangerous. Roman shifted nervously. “You… you want my help apprehending these men?” he asked, trying not to show how frightening it seemed.

“God No!” Roman hid his relieve. “These men are all in jail already, with iron clad cases keeping them there for a long time. You think I’m going to send some rookie after hardcore criminals? No offense, but you are still a baby,” Roman blushed at that and focused back on the pictures.

Wait a minute. “I know that guy! Remember at the end of my first week? I spotted some tugs bothering that kid and tossed a rock at them?”

“And by some miracle you weren’t found when said tugs came looking for you,” BS added through gritted teeth. Still upset at Roman's initial recklessness.

“I wasn’t the only one they were looking for,” Roman insisted. He’d been so sure he hadn’t been alone that night. But BS claimed the would have known if anyone else had been there.

He never went after the tugs after they left the alley. BS insisting he was done with back alleys for the night.

And now those guys were apparently behind bars?

“Next slide please!” Davies called out.

A picture of a ziplock bag with pictures, a USB stick and a note of cut out letters that said ‘your turn’.

“For almost a year now we’ve been getting mysterious packages like this. Pictures, audio and video recordings. Every last one had one of these men incriminating themselves. It’s like whoever delivers these stands right next to them, but never gets caught taking pictures or carrying a wire. I have a small task force on the case who have dubbed them ‘The Phantom’. We are keeping this as in house as we can. Once the public hears about the Phantom, we’ll lose the most valuable asset we’ve ever had. Plus until now we weren’t sure if they were a sensible vigilante or a mobster who was taking out competition in a very clever way. Given what you just said I’d be inclined towards the former. They might have some sort of gift that hides them well enough to get away with spying. But right now, they are putting themselves in danger.” Davies turned towards Roman.

“Keep an eye out, see if you can spot him during your patrol this evening. And if you do, get him on board with the program.”

“Prince did not go through all that training to be your recruitment poster boy!” BS snapped to Roman's surprise. That was the most emotional response he's seen from BS ever. Aside from when he scolded Roman on his reckless behavior.

Davies glared at BS, looking quite intimidating, despite barely reaching to his chest.

“Now don't go all noble on me BrainStorm. What? Did your heart grow three sizes while I wasn't looking? Is there suddenly room for more than one other person there?”

Roman knew that this was a threat. Davies knew BS’ true identity, where he worked, who he cared for. She could ruin whatever he had built in an instant.

Roman often wondered what kind of life BS had outside the facility. Did he have a partner? A family? Did they know about his past at all.

A few seconds ticked by with no one daring to do so much as breathe.

Then Davies relaxed and stepped back. “I'm no monster BrainStorm. I wouldn't ask some rookie to deal with this if I hadn’t tried everything else already. I send in my agents and even called in other gifted. All we got out of that was this,” she gestured and Manifestor showed the next image. A note in the same style as the previous one that said ‘no babysit!’

“Our profiler thinks they are young. So maybe your prince won't seem as threatening. They might've had his back once before already. If this Phantom were someone you cared for, would you rather we left them be, or would you drag their noble behind here yourself to give them proper gear and back up?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, BS had nothing to counter with. Roman imagined Phantom being one of his friends, or even Janus and the answer remained the same.

“I will do what I can,” he vowed before lifting his chin and facing the fierce chief head on. “But ma'am, I don't appreciate you threatening my mentor like that.”

BS had stood up for him, it was only right for him to return the favor.

Davies chuckled. “Just when I started to worry you were only brawn and a pretty face. You can be smart too huh? And you’ve got guts. You just might have what it takes kid. Now. I have places to be. Keep me updated, and don't lose this.” Roman accepted the watch he was handed with a confused frown.

“My people will call if we need you. Please use that brain and return the favor?”

With that she left. Well… that was intense.

Roman put on the watch and saw that it had a frequency displayed on it instead of time. He also spotted two buttons. One blue and one red. It didn't take much to realize that one was a panic button and the other was to make it so the cops could hear him. He wondered if it would connect to the nearest patrol car or to Davies directly.

He hoped he’d never have to find out.

“Well… time to show the city their hero is ready for action.”

 It had been a pleasant evening so far. He'd stopped a few shoplifters, broke up a fight or two and dodged a few reporters, though he let them snap a good picture of his new outfit.

Now the sun was down however and he was making his way to the back alleys.

“Looking for a fight is foolish Prince!” BS growled through his earpiece.

But Roman wasn't looking for a fight. He was looking for someone who'd gotten him out of at least one pickle.

He ignored BS as he landed on a roof, overlooking the city using his sight. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but it was his only plan.

Suddenly he spotted something strange and unusual. There was an energy, a few blocks ahead. But it was impossible for him to really see it. Like he was looking at it trough glasses with strong prescriptions.

He rushed towards it and found a gang of criminals with violently swirling auras. He knew what this meant. They were going to hurt someone.

“Send back up to my location,” he instructed before turning the receiver off. He needed to focus.

“I say we attack now! They are week! We can take them down easily.” A shorter guy with energy like glass shards insisted.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” a giant of a man stated calmly, though his energy betrayed how much he wanted to go with the first guy's plan.

Were they talking about Phantom?

“What rat!? Those idiots just bragged to the wrong crowd.” The first voice shot back. Phantom was becoming a bit of a ghost story it seemed. Some who believed, judging by the shudder that went through the other men's auras at the mere mention of them. But clearly not everyone was convinced.

“Oh and they gave out pictures as well? Did a little livestream? We're not safe until this rat is lynched,” the tall man pointed out tensely. He was a believer. And he wanted Phantom dead. Not good.

Roman studied the tugs and to his relief he spotted they were all armed. Weird thing to be happy about. But it meant he had probable cause to interfere.

He jumped down, slowing his descent just so that he didn't hurt himself on the landing without sacrificing the cool factor.

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” he asked as he rose up to his full length facing them fearlessly.

“what the…?”

“It's that Prince clown!” Rude.

The tall guy, the leader probably, silenced the group with a gesture and smiled, his anxious energy almost completely disappearing. He'd found something to vent on. “Sure kid. Got mine right here.”

Roman flung his cape in front of him and manifested a gelatinous shield around himself as the leader pulled out his gun and fired several rounds at him. The tugs wouldn't see it. But it was there, and it caught the bullets slowing them down until they were harmless, making them fall to the ground when they met with the fabric.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” he complained as he dropped both cape and shield.

“I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced. The criminals all readied their weapons. Seriously? Did they not get that he was essentially bulletproof?

He sighed as he took off his cape and hung it on a water pipe that ran down the side of the building.

“Fine,” he sighed and then he amped up his speed a bit while shielding himself from the rain of bullets heading his way. He used the gelatin shield because he didn't want to risk the bullets ricocheting and injuring someone. Especially the gifted he was sure was still watching the whole thing.

It wasn't hard to disarm the criminals. He even managed to knock a few to the ground. But there were at least two who'd gone down without him even touching them. And he would’ve sworn he saw a figure move between him and a tug once or twice to block a blow. He couldn't really see the other hero. It was an odd sensation. But he could feel his presence better and better and soon he was adapting his moves to those of the Phantom. Together they took out the whole group. Though to the villains it would seem like he'd done it by himself. He stood victorious over the leader, a pile of disassembled guns behind him and sirens lighting up the alley.

He twisted his foot to show off his white boot with gold accents. “So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” he wondered playfully before looking up towards the presence and winking in acknowledgment.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here.” Roman turned to the cops and bowed to them

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” Then, while turning around, he made a gesture that could be taken as a ‘goodbye’, or as a ‘follow me’.

He was glad to notice that the presence seemed to follow him. He found a fire escape and floated himself to the roof it led to.

He turned to face his hopefully soon to be partner in crime fighting.

He could hear the clanging of someone climbing the metal fire escape. And while he still couldn't quite make out the figure that reached the roof he saw his reflection in a pool of water left behind by the rain earlier that day.

An unfortunate weakness, but so long as no one knew, no one would be looking for it. In order to be a hero, no one could know Phantom really existed. Was that why the authorities were kept at a distance? Why Phantom never made introductions despite having crossed paths at least once before?

He stepped forward with a bow. “Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assistance. Both just now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.”

A distorted chuckle made him look up. He could see Phantom much better now. He was dressed in Male coded clothes, though that was no guarantee. The hero outfit was simple. A black t-shirt, boots and denims, paired with a black coat that reached down to his calves and had the collar popped up. He looked really cool… but Roman couldn't make sense of his head. He was looking right at him he could see it, but his brain couldn't identify a thing.

It was so weird.

“Phantom huh?” His voice was a strange deep echoing sound. The distortion was pretty spooky if he was honest, but he wasn't afraid. Phantom was on his side.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?”

Roman cocked his brow. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood,” he reminded him. Phantom looked away. Clearly he knew Roman had a point.

“Do you have something against the program?” His tone had been oddly bitter.

“No I…”  Phantom took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess.” He sure sounded upset. And Roman could understand that. Here Phantom was, doing his part and all the cops could do in return was bother him At least as far as the young vigilante could tell. But then why…?

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Roman pressed. That didn’t make any sense. Phantom had shaken off his ‘babysits’ before. What made Roman special?

“Um… Well… I just…” Phantom stammered. Roman wondered why. Was he bad with confrontation? Social interaction in general? Or had Roman said something that hit a nerve somehow?

“You interrupted my stake out!” Phantom blurted out all of a sudden.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Oh… Well Roman could understand how that would be frustrating.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely with a small bow. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.” Surely he could understand that he could not stand by after hearing that.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.”

Well… He had a point. But Roman had back up. It would be rather stupid of the mob to come after a hero with government sanctioning. And these guys would go behind bars for a long time right? “You got dirt on them?” he asked. If the guns weren’t enough then surely whatever Phantom  had gleaned from his stakeouts would be sufficient. Right?

“Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really. But you are out in the open. This is not your kind of mission Royal pain.” Oh, he had nicknames huh? It was an insult, but Roman didn’t mind witty banter. Especially if it came from a place of care. And Roman was starting to think it did.

“And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…”

Roman crossed his arms and smirked catching the implications of what Phantom just said.

“You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?” he guessed.

Phantom scoffed and probably rolled his eyes. While Roman still couldn’t quite see it, he would bet his entire Disney collection on it.

“It’s not like I came looking for you.” Phantom snapped. And Roman believed him.

“Still… Thank you…” he was going to say more but then he heard a beep in his ear followed by a loud voice. “Prince! Answer this instant!”

“Ow!” Roman exclaimed annoyed, reflexively reaching for his ear though it wouldn’t help much. He pressed the button to talk to BS. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?”

He would demand a new com that couldn’t do that or he’d refuse to wear one period. What if he needed to concentrate right now? What if he was in the middle of tense negotiations or being told delicate information. As a matter of fact. This situation right here was delicate. One wrong move and Phantom might bolt. And he might not come along next time he found him. And even if he couldn’t get him to join the program, he wanted Phantom to know he had an ally in him. Someone to talk to, confide in, count on if he didn’t have anyone else.

“You do not turn off your com while going into a gunfight! It’s moronic to go in alone!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I am fine, not a scratch on me.” He wasn’t going to mention that he wasn’t alone exactly. Phantom had never consented to BS and the rest of his team knowing.

“I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And this time he took the com out of his ear. BS could yell at him later.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.” In a cold and distant way.

“Mentor?” Phantom asked.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” he joked casually.

“Oh…” Phantom’s tone was odd. It made Roman want to come closer and offer comfort. He didn’t though. They weren’t at that point yet. Not by a long shot.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself,” he vowed as he reached out his hand. Phantom hesitated for a few moments before bridging the distance and offering his own.

Roman grinned and grabbed it for a firm shake. “I’ll see you next time,” he assured his fellow hero before letting go and turning around to finish his patrol.

Progress was made. Not much, but still.

He just might’ve made a new friend.

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

End of this part meet Virgil and read his story.

Masterlist

[moonbeambucky]

Winter WonderLance

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 2354 Warnings: fluff

Summary: The Tuckers are in for a beautiful sight as they spend winter in the glistening snow of New York

“Bye bye Florida!” 

You waved your hands at the small window of the airplane as your children excitedly copied you.

Warm weather and palm trees would soon be traded for the bitter chill of barren, snow-covered branches that line the busy streets of New York. Ariel and Theodore were eager to go on their first airplane ride. Unfortunately, the real experience was less than exciting.

Despite pre-boarding bathroom visits Ariel needed to go again just as the plane was navigating towards the runaway. She bounced in her seat as you begged for her to hold it, hoping for a quick take off so you could fly towards the bathroom. 

It didn’t help that she insisted her mommy take her, despite your focus on attempting to try and calm a very upset Theo.

In all your travels you never gave much thought to parents flying with children. Noise blocking headphones were a lifesaver as you worked on your laptop, unaware of the frustration they were going through. 

“It’s okay Theo. Yawn, like this.”

You tried to show him how in an effort to help with the pressure in his ears but he wasn’t having it. Trying to reason with an agitated near-three year old was futile.

Over your shoulder you turned your head towards Lance, sitting in the aisle seat beside you. You couldn’t help the pout your lips formed, an expression of the mental exhaustion to come considering you had barely left Florida. 

Your hands swept across Theo’s hair as you tried to get him to lean into you but he was not having it, frustratedly kicking his legs against the back of the seat in front of him. You offered an apology to the young man that turned around glaring at your son, fighting back your urge to punch his childless self in the face. Now you had all the sympathy in the world for what parents go through.

When the plane had finally evened out its course you asked Lance to sit beside Theo as you took Ariel. 

“C’mere buddy.” Lance tried his best to hold a very fussy Theo against him and rocking to soothe the discomfort in his ears.

Obviously it didn’t work as you heard Theo’s cries from inside the cramped bathroom. 

Running your hands down your face you let out a frustrated sigh. In another week you would be returning home and you were already worrying about how Theo would handle the flight. But you know you shouldn’t be thinking about this. Your vacation has barely begun and you want to focus on all the fun the kids would be having instead. 

You hadn’t been back to New York in a few years. Amidst your previous travels you had dropped by once or twice but they were quick visits, to say hello to colleagues or sign new employment contracts. When you and Lance were deciding on where you should travel during the winter break you wanted to go all out and give the kids a new experience, and snow was certainly something new!

After washing your hands along with Ariel, you found your way back to your row, guided by the sound of Theo’s sobs. 

“I think he wants you,” Lance sighed, upset he hadn’t been able to make progress in calming Theodore.

“Daddy sit next to me!” Ariel exclaimed, bouncing as she squeezed past him to get to her seat by the window.

After a bit of musical chairs, with Lance now sitting in between you and Ariel, and Theo back in your arms, you sat up a little straighter, determined to at least stop Theo from crying. 

Lance’s attention was taken by Ariel who pulled out her bright LeapFrog learning tablet from your bag so they could read together. Sticking out from the corner of your bag was something you had forgotten about, the most beautiful sight that would help save you and Theo for the rest of the flight, goldfish crackers.

Asking Ariel to get them for you, Lance opened the package and suddenly a tiny smile pulled at the corner of Theo’s mouth as you offered one to him. Whether it was the crunching that helped or Theo was distracted by food you really didn’t care but thankfully the crying stopped.

Finally, Theo was calm as he picked goldfish out of your palm. With Lance’s assistance you were able to find a movie for Theo to watch, an animated one you could recite by heart thanks to the amount of times the kids have watched it. 

The rest of the ride went mostly smooth until it was time to prepare for landing. Ariel whined, wanting her dad to still sit next to her. Theo whined when you put him back in his seat, wanting to stay on your lap, and you and Lance smiled exhaustedly, holding back your own whines because you really want to take a nap. 

Juggling two young children was a hassle, especially trying to keep their hats and scarves bundled on, and making sure Ariel didn’t forget Teddy in the taxi because she insisted on bringing him along. 

“Teddy will be sad if we left him home alone.” You tried to reason that Teddy needed to stay home so he could watch the house while you were gone. “But that’s Oinky’s job.” Oh, of course, your mistake. 

By the time you reached your hotel you got your wish. Theo went down easy after the cry he had and Ariel tried to fight the way her lids were shutting; for your own sake you were happy she lost. 

Nuzzled against Lance’s chest, you felt his lips against your forehead before you fell asleep, waking up reenergizing to really begin your vacation. 

“Mmmm how I missed you,” you purred sensually, gently caressing the thing you longed for the most in your hand, opening your mouth with wanton need.

Lance chuckled, shaking his head. “Mommy’s silly, right?” he said to Ariel and Theo as you bit into your slice of pizza.

Maybe your kids can’t appreciate just how delicious New York pizza is compared to what’s available at home but you can and will, savoring every bite as if it was the last time you would taste the magical combination of cheese, sauce and dough.

Your phone buzzed on the table and quickly moving your half chewed food to the other side of your mouth you answered the call. 

“Hi! Yes. Okay, we’ll see you soon.”

Your boss Sue was stopping by, coming from the ESPN offices a few blocks away. She wanted to say hello while you were in town and meet the kids for the first time as she had only seen them in the pictures you’ve sent. Despite loving your job you were not going to parade the kids and Lance around the office in front of eager reporters hungry for any story. 

A tingle of bad memories ran down your spine but you quickly brushed it off, focusing instead on the happily smiles surrounding you.

“Daddy, ca’ I have a napkin?” Theo asked, placing the large slice down on his plate.

While watching the meticulous way his little hands worked to clean off sauce you heard an enthusiastic voice call your name out. Standing up, you turned to face Sue, wrapping your arms around the heavy coat that seemed to swallow her up. 

Lance greeted her as well, pulling up a chair at the end of the booth for her to join. 

Sue placed her hands against her cheeks as she smiled at your children. “Look at how big they’ve gotten!”

“Ariel, Theodore, this is my friend Susan. Do you want to say hi?”

“Hi!” Theo said with a mouthful of food. Ariel’s greeting was a bit softer as she nuzzled against her Dad feeling a little shy.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, shrugging off her coat. She wasn’t going to stay long but the heavy material was too much to bear indoors.

With some coaxing from you and Lance, Ariel opened up a bit as she and Theo told Sue all the things they’ve done so far on their vacation.

“And we saw a big tree!” Ariel stretched her arms high above her head. “It had pretty lights and a really pretty star.”

“And it was bigger than the whole world!” Theo exclaimed.

Sue’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No way! Bigger than the whole world!?” Theo nodded as he used both hands to grab his drink.

“What was your favorite thing you’ve seen so far?” Sue asked.

“Ummm, I liked the carousel!” Ariel beamed. The SeaGlass carousel in Battery Park was a favorite of yours as well.

“And who did we wave to that was near the carousel?” Lance asked, testing his children’s memory. 

Ariel concentrated as she thought and Theo honestly didn’t bother to think but you snuck him the answer anyway.

“Sta-choot of Liberty!” he giggled.

You and Lance also took the kids to a children’s museum, to the top of the Empire State Building and tonight you were surprising them with tickets to see The Lion King on Broadway.

After saying goodbye to Sue and finishing lunch, you stopped in at FAO Schwarz. The kids were mesmerized by the toy store and the giant plush animals that surrounded them but secretly Lance had been dying to visit so he could play on the giant floor piano from Big.

It wasn’t much of a secret, not by the way he practically ran towards the line that was formed beside it. Twenty long minutes were spent waiting and during that time you had to convince Lance that he needed to share the piano with Ariel and Theo.

Your phone recorded every moment of giggling joy as Lance bounced on the keys that lit with bright colors as he played “Chopsticks” accompanied by random musical notes as Ariel and Theo ran across the piano.

“You were amazing!” you said, planting a kiss on Ariel and Theo’s cheeks as you and Lance helped them back into their winter coats. “And you were adorable,” you cooed, pressing a sweet kiss on Lance’s lips, feeling him smile against you.

Central Park was covered in a blanket of white, a crystalline landscape of snow that glittered in the sunlight.

It was the day before you had to leave and you wanted to make the most of the freshly fallen weather. Bundled in layers, wrapped with scarves and thick gloves, you ventured out to play in the winter wonderland. 

“Let’s make a snowman!” Ariel declared.

You helped her gather the soft powder snow in a ball, rolling it along the unblemished landscape for it to grow larger. Lance and Theo were doing the same, sort of. 

Theo scooped up as much snow as his gloves could carry and he dropped them down onto the base Lance was attempting to form. Theo smiled as the soft flurries sprinkled to the ground. Lance crouched down, trying to show him a better way to do it as he attempted to pack more snow into the pile but Theo didn’t care.

“No, it’s this way,” he insisted, looking for the perfect patch of snow to scoop up and bring over.

His excitement may have gotten the best of him as Theo threw the snow down haphazardly, getting more than half on his dad. Lance wiped the wetness of his face against the sleeve of his coat. Another shock of cold came as Theo did it again happily “building” his snowman.

“Daddy look how big we made it!” Ariel huffed as the both of you rolled the large ball of snow back towards Lance and Theo.

“Wow Starfish that’s grea– ” Lance muffled his words as Theo excitedly threw down another pile of snow, doing so once again with terrible aim.

“Theo! Did you just throw snow at your daddy?” 

He froze, cautiously shaking his head back and forth in case you were upset. 

“C’mere Pumpkin,” you called to him.

You scooped up a small handful of snow, pressing it together into a ball and placing it in Theo’s palm. Quickly you scooped another ball for yourself. 

“This is how you throw a snowball.”

Winding your arm back, you aimed and threw the ball hitting Lance in the back as he was working on the snowman. 

“Hey!” he yelped in surprise. 

Theo threw his that hit Lance’s leg. Ariel abandoned her snowman in favor of joining the snowball fight. 

“Three against one isn’t fair!” he shouted, trying to dodge the attack.

Lance retaliated, mainly aiming for you as you laughed, running around with Ariel and Theo beside you. His cheeks were bright red as he chased you, blowing visible breaths while playfully yelling, “I’m gonna get you!”

Taking cover behind a tree you quickly bent down to make snowballs for Theo as Ariel made her own, slowly creeping around the tree to throw them at Lance but he wasn’t there. Then you felt it; the close range hit of a snowball on your backside.

The shock made you scream, and a few more rapid fire hits had you stumbling. Reaching your arm back to rub your icy buns you called for a truce and Lance dropped his frozen ammo. Ariel and Theo threw their remaining snowballs at their dad, ignoring the armistice. 

“Ow!” you laughed, still rubbing your backside. Lance offered a hand for you to stand up. “I’m definitely going to have a bruise thanks to you.”

“I’ll be happy to kiss it better,” he smirked. “Now, who wants to make snow angels?!”

“Me! Me! Me!” came the chorus of excited squeals. 

The rest of the day was spent inside the hotel, warm and snuggled together while watching movies and having hot chocolate with marshmallows. With Ariel and Theo asleep at your sides Lance leaned down to caress your lips with his in a languid articulation of love.

When he pulled away he smiled, a soft mirror of your own expression. It’s an appreciation for all the memories you’ve made on this trip that now share space in your heart with every moment of your lives together.

[halfhumanscribe]

Novel Corp. - Orientation (2/3)

SYNOPSIS:  Some people will do anything to get a job and keep.   Sometimes it means doing things you don’t want to, sometimes its being part of something that doesn’t make any sense. RATING: M - MATURE (Language, Violence, Horror Elements) ORIGINAL PUBLISHING YEAR:  2012

WORD COUNT:  3546

Part 1 - Click Here Part 3 - Click Here

Novel Corp. - Prelude by Inganno Orientation (2/3)

He groaned slightly as the darkness began to dissipate from all around him. The first thing he noticed as the light slowly flooded back onto him, was the strange stomach ache that was gnawing at his insides. It must have been something he had eaten that morning. Next time he wouldn’t indulge himself so much on his mother’s homemade cinnamon rolls. Too much sugar on those things. It was no wonder he was about to go over the 190lbs mark. Perhaps it’s back to eating salad and and greens for him, though they weren’t quite as tasty.

“Wait a second,” he thought to himself, “wasn’t I just in a job interview… didn’t he…?”

His eyes shot open, trying to figure out what had happened. His pupils did their best to try and adapt to the bright environment around him, but he was only gifted with an irritation as the brightness shined down all around him.

“What’s going on!?” he screamed. “Where am I?” Reinhold looked left, right, and all around him. The events from earlier were beginning to come back to him. “Oh Jesus, he shot me! Am I dead?”

“Yes, Mr. Eckhart,” answered a deep feminine voice beside him. “Heaven is actually an old abandoned Chinese takeout restaurant. Didn’t you know?”

His eyes switched to a middle aged Asian woman in the chair next to him. She wore a blood stained butcher’s apron, and was quietly enjoying a cigarette.

“I hope you don’t mind if I smoke,” she said to Reinhold with a slight accent. “It’s a filthy habit I know, but as long as Donald keeps it up, I just can’t control myself. Do you smoke?”

Reinhold looked at her with confusion, and slowly shook his head.

“You should,” the woman replied back to him, “it’ll get you to try new things, and the tobacco in these things are just to die for. Definitely not for everyone, but they certainly help to unwind. Shame about the nicotine in the paper ones – it’s why I switched over to electronic. There’s a lot less hassle with them, and it helps me with quitting too.” She let out a stream of smoke, and watched it disappear into the air. “I guess cigarettes aren’t as exciting for you though. Especially with the trace amounts of lysergic acid diethylamide I found in your system.”

Reinhold still held confusion on his face as he listened to the woman drone. What on Earth was she even talking about?

She noticed the bewilderment he had, and grinned. “Lysergic acid diethylamide: Acid. The recreational kind.”

“How did you…?” Reinhold began to ask as he sat up.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said standing from her chair in slight concern.

Reinhold cocked his head and quickly asked, “why?” When he looked down at himself, he found himself naked, with his body covered in blood. The first shock sent a chill down his spine and his heart into a tizzy. But it wasn’t until he saw noticed that his chest cavity was open to the outside air and that he could actually see his heart beating in front of him that the second shock hit in – and it was a doozy.

“FUCK!” he screamed as loud as he could. He tried to pick himself up, but the woman grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back down onto the counter he was laying on top of. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!” he continued to scream. “I CAN SEE MY OWN HEART BEATING!”

“Surreal, isn’t it?” the woman spat through her teeth, using all her strength to hold Reinhold down onto the counter. “Now shut up, and quit moving or you’re going to end up killing yourself.” He didn’t listen and continued to squirm beneath her grasp. She groaned and murmured: “I was hoping we’d be done by the time you woke up, but I guess your a curious cookie, aren’t ya?”

“LET ME GO!” Reinhold screamed. “FUCKING LET ME GO!”

“If I do that,” she began to explain, “you’ll get up and run away with your chest wide open, and then all your organs will fall out, and you’ll die literally a shell of your former self. Do you want that, Mr. Eckhart?”

Reinhold froze when he heard that. No, the prospect of that didn’t sound pleasing in the least bit. In fact, it sounded horrifically painful. More so then he ever thought possible. He took a deep breath and went limp. Her scare tactic seemed to work. Whatever was happening, maybe if he let her continue to do what she was doing, he would escape… somehow.

“Good boy,” she sighed with relief, “now just lay there and let them do a majority of the work while I go get the paperwork for your employment. We’ll fill it out the rest of what you missed together.”

Employment? Reinhold remembered he had gotten the job from earlier. Was this part of the hiring procedure? Even more so, what did she mean by “them?”

He observed his surroundings. Sure enough, she was right. He was in what looked like a small rundown Chinese takeout place. The windows had been covered up with newspaper though, and several laptop computers were placed on all the tables. Two people that he could see from the corner of his eye were busy typing away, while he heard another person on the phone in the alcove right around the corner. Surreal, indeed, especially with his chest wide open.

He looked down at his open cavity and tried to look at his insides. A wave of nausea began to come over him, and he could see his stomach gurgle with displeasure from it. He then felt something sliver along the underside of it, and watched his organs push up slightly, before laying low again. It then poked up from behind his kidney: a black slimy eel like serpent, slithering its way along the outside of his body before burying itself back into him. Another serpent of sorts – a white one this time – showed up its head momentarily as it pulled something up out of him with its razor sharp teeth, and began to chew on the still connected piece of flesh.

Reinhold felt his face go cold. He turned his head over to the counter edge and wretched out his breakfast from earlier. It certainly didn’t taste that bad when it was going down.

“Don’t worry about that,” the woman said from the far end of the restaurant kitchen. “Happens all the time to the new recruits whenever they see Cleaners inside of them.”

“Cleaners?”

“You bet,” she answered, sitting back in her chair, now with a clipboard and pen with her. “They were originally an idea by Dr. Norris Stanwood back in the late 1800s. He wrote a small story over it, disguising it as a medical find. Apparently, people didn’t get the memo that it was meant to be a satire, and they took it as truth. Lo and behold, it created rumors, then false sightings, and then the real deals were eventually brought into reality at around mid 1920s. Donald’s great grandfather was the one who discovered them. He was the head of this place at the time, so he trademarked them, and they’ve belonged to Novel Corp. ever since, classified as a D-rank figment.”

Reinhold didn’t know what she was talking about again. Norris Stanwood? Cleaners? D-rank figment? He had his chest open as it was. He didn’t need anymore additional confusion under his belt.

“Sorry about that,” she said, noticing his confusion. “I’ll explain the Cleaners. Basically, they go into your system and clean out any unnecessary bacteria or enzymes that might be detrimental to your body. Cholesterol, blood clots, minor infections, other things like that. We give em to all our new recruits. It’s what Donald shot you with. They start off the size of a maggot and then grow over the span of an hour or two to the size of snakes. Also, the moment they enter your body, they release a slime that numbs the area so they can began work on the cleaning. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

She stood up from her seat again and looked down into his body. “You see, the black one actually surfs around your body looking for the negative enzymes, and alerts the white one of its location so that it can eat them. The white one lives through those enzymes, while the black one lives off the blood in your body. It’s a strange symbiotic relationship. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Reinhold quickly shook his head. “No,” he yelled. “No it’s not! I CAN SEE MY OWN HEART BEATING! How is that supposed to be fascinating!?”

The woman rolled her eyes and sighed, “spoiled sport.”

“And what do you mean by figments?” he asked immediately after wards.

The woman sat back down in her seat, adjusting herself comfortably and brushing some of her dirty and dark locks out her sight. “Novel Corp. specializes in the investigation, collection, and sometimes termination of potential entities created and/or brought into existence by the average human, AKA figments. The Cleaners are just good examples.” She hoped he understood that, but knew he more than likely didn’t. “Look, all you need to know is that unlike the other organizations which chase the paranormal, aliens, and cryptids, we go after things that are brought into the world by human creation simply using their imagination. Does that make sense?”

Reinhold shook his head.

“Of course it doesn’t,” she groaned. “Let’s just take care of this paperwork before we get into the full job description alright?” She clicked her pen open and placed it down on the first bit of the file. “First off, what’s your full name?”

The man brought his hands up and waved them in front of his opening. “I can see my own heart beating,” he squeaked out in a pathetic tone. “What about that do you not get?”

“Full name, please.”

Reinhold sighed and let his head fall back onto the counter. He still didn’t know what was going on. He had so many questions, but knew he wasn’t going to get any of them answered at the moment. “My name is Reinhold Tucker Eckhart.”

She scribbled it down the best she could. “Alright then. We got your birthday and social security information already, so we can just skip past those. Address is all set too. Race… African American. Drugs?” She peaked up at him and smiled. “Well we know you’ve done acid, so that’s checked. Anything else I should be aware of? And this includes alcohol mind you.”

Reinhold felt himself grow nervous again. He couldn’t get away from the acid assumption, but he could at least lie about everything else. He opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped short by the woman again.

“Before you answer,” she said, “just know that if we find out later you’re actually doing things that you didn’t list with us, we can have you terminated and black listed from any other organization of this kind, as well as other areas of employment. So I suggest you be honest…”

Reinhold gulped and took in a deep breath through his nose. “Weed,” he admitted, “and booze. Lots of weed and booze… and acid.”

She wrote it down on her sheet and flipped the pen between her fingers. “Good to know. And for future reference: if you ever want to try some of the best weed money can buy, come see me. My shit comes special ordered from South America.” A devilish grin appears on her face for a moment, sparking a surprised reaction from Reinhold. She quickly wipes it and continues onward.

“So you don’t care I do drugs?” Reinhold shakily asked.

She laughed slightly and continued to write things down on her clipboard. “If you weren’t on something before you came here, you’d certainly be on something when you leave. Are you single?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“That makes two of us,” she followed up with a sigh of her own. The woman quickly checked the box on the sheet and continued. “Have any medical conditions you or your family has that we should be aware of?”

Reinhold’s face grew cold as he thought about it. “My father died from Huntington’s disease.” He paused for a second and stared up at the light on the ceiling. “I haven’t gotten myself tested yet for it, so I don’t know about myself just yet.”

“I see,” she responded as she wrote. “I’m sorry to hear that. We offer a great benefits package that works for you even when you are no longer employed with us. You just have to stay on with us for four years to receive the long term one. You get the basic benefits immediately upon employment.”

He was silent to her attempt at making him feel any better.

“Let’s move on,” she continued. “Would you be opposed to handling a dangerous weapon of sorts?”

“No,” he answered.

“Good, cause you’re going to go out onto the gun range tomorrow morning with Javier,” she explained. “Just don’t call him Javier alright. He’s using Terrance Williams as his cover for the next seven or eight years before he changes it again. Don’t ask.”

Reinhold wouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was going to get an answer anyways.

“Have you ever knowingly created a figment?” she continued.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replied. How would one go about doing that, he wondered.

She checked it off and continued down the list. She was about to ask him the next question, when the front door to the restaurant flew open and a sharply dressed Hispanic man who looked in his early thirties hurried in. He shut the door tight and locked it up. His tongue quickly licked at the soul patch under his lip as his light brown eyes shakily looked toward the door. His face looked twisted from panic, and the glasses over him hung crooked.

“Oh shit,” the woman muttered seriously. “We were just talking about him. DONALD!” Her voice carried to the backroom where the aging owner of the business jumped out.

“What’s going on?” he asked between puffs of a cigarette.

“It’s Javier! He looks mental again!”

Donald spit out the stick and stamped it beneath his foot before making a beeline for the front of the building. “Shit! He must be being stalked again. Grab his gun before he unloads it out onto the public again.”

The woman zoomed around the counter and quickly tackled the Hispanic agent to the ground. She groped around his side until she found his revolver and threw it to the behind her. Donald appeared beside her a moment later, and pulled out his own gun, shoving it against the scared man’s temple.

“Listen here, Terrance,” he said as his other hand wrapped around his worker’s neck, “if you’re going to act like this again, I’m gonna make sure you either leave here in a casket or in a straightjacket. You hear me?”

The man on the floor writhed in insanity, and flailed his arms everywhere. One went into his pocket, and pulled out…

“Tiny gun!” Reinhold screamed as he watched Javier/Terrance/Whatever-His-Name-Was pull out a derringer from his back pocket.

The woman grabbed it in a steadfast motion, pulled back the hammer and shot the lunatic in his leg. A bright light of blue lighting filled the area as Donald and the woman jumped back. A few of the bolts danced across their arms, but they were able to escape unscathed for the most part. The man they were holding, however, twitched and jumped as the shock coursed through him. The light eventually faded, leaving a tired and still living Terrance panting on the floor. He smoked slightly, and smelled of burned arm hair.

The woman then pulled down the derringer chamber and pulled out the two bullets in it. She approached Reinhold, and dropped them both on the table.

“These,” she began, “are .40 calibur Lightning Rods, to put it frankly. They are rechargeable bullets that shoot controlled bursts of electricity, ember, and/or sand. The recharge time is usually about twenty two minutes, but there are some types that only take about ninety seconds.” She looked Reinhold in the eye. “I tell you this because these are what we use against figments, and anybody who gets in our way. They are efficient, they are useful, they are non-lethal…”

“And they’re cheap,” Donald added, as he put away his own weapon. “We don’t use real bullets, so don’t ask, Eckhart.” He took the limp man’s body over his shoulder and began to slowly walk toward the back again. “I’m taking him to the freezer so he can rest, and then I’m calling Dr. Uzumaki.”

The woman nodded.

“Freezer?” Reinhold asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “That freezer’s been broken for years. We turned it into a recovery center. You’ll be in there soon enough. Maybe you’ll get to meet Jav… err… Terrance while you’re in there.”

“Do I have to?” Reinhold asked, completely terrified from the man’s reaction.

She laughed and sat back down in her seat. “He’s not that bad. He’s actually a pretty good guy, and a total cut up when he’s sane. He was just being Stalked by an S-rank.”

“Stalked?”

She didn’t answer at first. She instead leaned back into her seat, and looked at the man with a solemn expression. “He’s being stalked by an S-rank that we can’t capture, observe, or terminate. And the less said of the S-ranks, the better. I don’t even know what’s stalking him. I’m not allowed to know. So once again: the less said about it, the better.”

The air between them was sudden thick with anxiety, and neither of them enjoyed it.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s get these questions done while the Cleaners do their thing.”

“Hold on a second!” he stopped her. “Why aren’t you allowed to know what’s stalking him? I mean, if he needs help and the figment is causing him to trip his shit like that, then wouldn’t you all want to help him?”

The woman shook her head again. “What did I just say? The less said about it, the better. When you finish with your orientation today, you’ll know why we can’t get involved. Just know that Terrance is one of the best agents we got right now, and that it was his choice to hunt down an S-rank. And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject.”

It wasn’t the answer Reinhold wanted. He wanted to know more. “But wouldn’t you all…?” He was stopped mid sentence though as he felt something creep along his throat. He began to cough hysterically, and felt the slimy slither of a Cleaner crawl up his throat and into his mouth. His coughing gave the thing passage, as it moved down his chin and neck and back into his chest.

“Oh god,” he gagged, “it tastes like a dirty tire.”

The woman smiled. “And you’d know this because?”

He coughed some more and spit some of the slime out of his mouth onto the floor. “The less said about it, the better.”

She exploded into laughter. “You might just fit in here after all.”

“Thanks,” he coughed. He then realized something extremely important he forgot to follow up on. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t say it,” she answered him. “I’m Suki. And this,” she added as she pulled out a syringe, “is going to make the rest of this operation so much more easier.” Without a moments notice, she stuck the needle end into his arm, and injected him with the milky white substance.

“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I can tell the Cleaners are almost done,” she responded. “Usually when they go through the throat, it means they’re desperate to find more negative bacteria. And when they finish up, it’s my turn to look around in there. Don’t worry, I’ll put everything back where I found it. And we’re not putting tracking chips or anything in there.”

“Well then, what ARE you doing?” He suddenly found his body was getting heavy and his vision was blurring fast.

“Just a small physical,” she said as her voice began to echo. “Then we’ll close you up, and let you rest the rest of the day. We can finish the rest of the paperwork later. I promise to be gentle while I’m in there, by the way…”

His vision was black again, and his consciousness began to fade. Everything was returning to how he had woken up earlier.

In the last moments before unconsciousness, he heard the woman coo: “Sweet dreams, Reinhold Eckhart.”

End of Part Two...

[seotipsandtricks-me]

Chatbot Marketing: Should Your Business Use It?

If you were to listen to some very shouty and concerned people on the internet, they’d have you convinced that “ROBOTS ARE GOING TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD”. Whilst artificial Intelligence has certainly come on leaps and bounds in recent years (self-driving cars, anyone?), it’s pretty safe to say it’s unlikely that Alexa or Siri will become your slave master any time soon. If anything, they simply make our lives that little bit easier. Nonetheless, it’s understandable why many businesses feel somewhat daunted by new technology – chatbots being one of them. If the term chatbot marketing has been on your radar but you are yet to fully wrap your head around what it is, or are wondering whether your business should use it, then this blog post is for you. I’ll be looking at what chatbot marketing is and whether or not your business should be using it in 2019. So, what are you waiting for, let’s find out if this year is the year your business should embrace the bot? What Is Chatbot Marketing? Firstly, let’s get to grips with the basics and understand what exactly chatbot marketing is. A chatbot is an AI software which can conduct a conversation with users of your website or app, via a chat interface. The interaction can either be text based, voice or a combination of both. You’ll most likely have come across a chatbot on platforms such as Facebook Messenger, SnapChat, WeChat and Slack, to name just a few. Data driven chatbots are able to answer questions based on the language and intent of the user. The more interaction with users they’re exposed to, the more the chatbot learns and provides better answers for customers. You don’t have to be a pro in AI to build a chatbot. Platforms such as HubSpot, MobileMonkey & Zebo offer free chatbot builder software which hand holds you through the process. You might hear of chatbot marketing, also known as messenger marketing, grouped into the same category as conversational marketing. Conversational marketing is an approach which emphasises using targeted messages to engage people in real time. While chatbots certainly are an aspect of this, conversational marketing in its entirety also entails live chat, social monitoring and genuine conversations. Why Should My Business Use A Chatbot? As with implementing any new marketing strategy or technology, there should be a logical reason underpinning why you are doing so and what you’re hoping to achieve from it. Before you race ahead and start incorporating chatbots into your business simply because you think you should – step back and ask yourself a few questions: Does it make sense for your customers? Will it add value to their user experience? Will it drive efficiencies for your business? I.e… Do you want to automate common questions? Do you want to generate more sales? Do you want a tool to assist someone with making a purchase? If the answer is a resounding YES then chatbot marketing is undoubtedly of benefit to your business. If any of the above incentives weren’t enough to convince you, here’s some additional reasons why you should proceed with chatbot marketing… What Are The Benefits Of Chatbot Marketing? Chatbots Can Help Save Your Business Time & Money Quite simply, chatbots can save your company valuable time and money. According to Chatbot magazine, they can potentially reduce your customer service costs by a staggering 30%. How? Well, Chatbots can quite easily save you time and money on your customer service. Most businesses encounter the same, constant and repetitive stream of questions from customers on a regular basis. Whether you’re a retailer answering questions about your opening hours/return policy or a zoo responding to queries about parking or wheelchair access, chatbots can automate a significant part of everyday repetitive work. This can help your business to save money on operational costs, manpower and time. Your staff will be able to spend less time on repetitive queries and more time on the tasks that matter. People Prefer Chatbots Over Other Communication Channels Larry Kim, CEO of messenger marketing Platform Mobile Monkey, argues that a generational shift has occurred in terms of the way people like to communicate. In this episode of our Internet Marketing Podcast interview with Larry, he claims that people prefer messenger marketing over email AND social combined. This claim appears to be supported by the State of Chatbots 2018 research, which discovered that 69% of consumers prefer chatbots for quick communication with brands. Finally, recent Facebook stats also back the idea that consumers prefer this means of communication. According to Facebook: 2 billion messages are sent between people and businesses monthly. 56% of people would rather message than call customer service. 53% of people are more likely to shop with businesses they can message. Chatbot Marketing Is 24/7 We live in an age of instant, and constant, communication. Most consumers have come to expect that ease of contact and after hours support from businesses. Chatbots are convenient as they available at anytime, anywhere. Users of your website of app won’t have to wait long for a response from a chatbot, compared to speaking to a call centre employee or waiting in line at a brick and mortar shop (which can be a source of frustration and dissatisfaction with your brand). Consequently, response times can be improved, the potential for human error is eliminated and an enhanced customer service is delivered. You Can Reach A Wider Audience Chatbots are predominantly found on social media messaging platforms. 2017 statistics revealed that there are over 1.3 billion users of Facebook messenger alone, which has likely increased. Considering the popularity of these platforms, this means an ability to reach virtually any audience from any demographic. Despite predominantly being on social media platforms, you’re also able to use chatbots on a multitude of other platforms such as SMS, Slack and your own site, meaning you’re able to reach a wider audience without too much hassle. Chatbots also allow your business to reach an audience which might not feel as comfortable with making traditional telephone enquiries. Chatbot’s Provide A Personal Approach A bot offering a more personal approach? You might consider this a contradictory argument but bear with me on this one. A human employee, for multiple reasons, maybe they skipped lunch, they’re tired, they’re nearing the end of their shift, they’re unhappy or disinterested in their job, whatever it may be, might not be completely attentive to a customer. A chatbot, meanwhile, can generate a comprehensive understanding of a customer (their habits, purchasing history, location) to form personalised experiences to improve the quality of the interaction. If customers have a positive response, they might be more likely to return to your brand. Chatbot’s Won’t Replace People That said, chatbot’s shouldn’t replace human interaction entirely. After all, unlike a human employee, a robot is not going to be able to think creatively or outside of the box. An Improved Content Strategy Chatbots learn information about users of your website or app via the questions posed to them. That information is stored for you, providing you with an untapped resource of insights and opportunity! This provides you with a chance to create content that precisely addresses the needs of your audience and answers what the chatbot is unable to. Plus, it eliminates the need for laborious and time-consuming research. For instance, if an ecommerce website discovers that many users are asking their chatbot about its returns policy, this highlights the need to either include it on their FAQ page or, if it is information that already exists, make it much more visible. In the same vein, chatbots can help boost your existing content marketing efforts by sharing links to relevant blog posts/other pieces of content which it thinks the user will find helpful. How to ensure your chatbot marketing is successful Hopefully I’ve managed to convince you that chatbots are worth investing in. But once you’ve done so, how can you make sure that your chatbot marketing is successful? Below I’ve provided my top tips for doing so: Don’t forget that chatbots are not merely an extension of your digital marketing but an entirely distinct channel on their own. As with any of your online communications, you should be promoting a consistent tone of voice and brand personality. Look at what your competitors are doing in terms of chatbot marketing. Is it something they’re even utilising? If so, is there anything they’re doing particularly well? Or is there something they’re not doing that can give you that competitive edge? Don’t be afraid to use emojis, video, GIFs and audio. They’re a fun, visual way to make conversations more interactive and light-hearted. In fact, they’re especially valuable if the tone of voice you’re trying to convey is in line with this. Emojis and GIFs can help to create a memorable experience with a brand. Not only do chatbots present another channel in which to market your product/service to your audience, they can also genuinely help or entertain them. Ensure your chatbot works seamlessly on all devices – desktop, laptop & tablet. Ultimately, it looks like chatbots are here to stay for the foreseeable future. What are your thoughts on chatbot marketing? Do you plan to incorporate it into your digital marketing strategy? Is there anything you’re unsure of? Did we miss anything? We’d love to hear from you in the comments below.