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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

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Lost in Time - ch 20

"Better have a good reason for dragging me out here, fellow."

The nights on this side of the river were unbearably hot, and the wind blew sand into every nook and cranny of person and building alike; Windsor could have sworn he learned in grade school that deserts were chilly at night but Eufala seemed to be different in that regard -- maybe it was the proximity to both the river and ocean, since the humidity alone was enough to make you want to die during the day.

That heat and humidity had already soured his mood by the time he'd returned to his motel room, and finding the little note jammed under his pillow hadn't done much to alleviate it; now here he was out in the middle of the desert, filling his boots with sweat, staring down the muscle-head that had left the note.

Franklin was an intimidating figure whose image was slightly undercut by the moonlight glistening on the healthy amount of sweat on top of his bald head; it was taking every ounce of self control Windsor had to not comment or laugh about it, or stare as a single bead finally ran down off the man's dome and traced a line to the lobe of his ear, then disappeared down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. ((Continued below cut))

"You're not one of them, are you? Duvos soldier, I mean."

Windsor met the man's gaze and shook his head. "Nope - just a humble bounty hunter and mercenary for hire. What's it to you?"

Franklin folded his massive arms with a grunt and a nod. "Figured as much. Listen. Xan's on the hook for some murders. He was given - "given" command of this last job," he repeated, flapping his fingers as he said it, "-and then, poof, dead commander. Xan's rise through the ranks has always been on the backs of the dead -- loads of blood in his wake but never anything that tied him directly to anything, but this one they can't let slide on a maybe."

The man went silent then and Windsor could tell by the look on his face that he was expecting a reaction; he kept his expression blank and let the silence drag on until the meat head was clearly getting frustrated. "Right. And?"

"...and so I'm here to screw things up for him. If he's discredited on something this important then no one is going to care if he disappears. The higher ups are willing to sacrifice another chance at an AI just to get him gone."

Windsor rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going and no thank you. This is your bed - shit in it all you like but I'm not joining you."

Franklin's eyes narrowed. "If Xan takes a fall so do you since you're a part of this damn group."

"I'm not an empire native and also don't give a flying rat's ass about the man or his politics -- if anyone wants to make a stink about it I've got the papers to prove I'm just a hired hand, and if they STILL don't like that I've got ways to get out of their hands. If you want to convince one of the others that they need to save their backsides then by all means do so; I won't stand in your way or narc you out. But leave me out of this."

Franklin growled. "You saw 'em -- they aren't going to break ranks."

Windsor shrugged. "Yeah, and? What would've you done if they HAD?"

"Kidnapped the woman, dragged her back to Duvos - I've got my orders to screw this up but nothing says I can't benefit in the process. So long as the job isn't done as ordered and Xan's embarrassed. He stakes his reputation on his plans always going AS planned down to the letter, so-"

"Oh please, THAT'S your back up plan? Original plan or not that would only make Xan look good! You're as dumb as you look, as dumb as I suspected, and my answer is STILL 'no goddamn thank you.' Mind your business and I'll mind mine."

The other simply narrowed his eyes and glared; Windsor gave it another few breaths then turned to leave. He kept his ears trained for any approaching steps (as he half-expected the man to attack him with his back turned) but he made it back to the motel without issue, and after emptying the sand and sweat out of his boots he unclipped his dagger harness and rolled into bed.

Whatever trouble there was in paradise wasn't any of his concern; he'd been hired to help steal an AI and that was that.

Pity about Xan though...man really did have a reputation for getting things done. Whatever methods he used aside Duvos would surely take a hit in the espionage and acquisitions department if they took Xan out of the chain of command. Was rather interesting to hear that they were actually willing to do something about him...Duvos had some cutthroat politics and supposedly a lot of things were overlooked or praised as being ambitious but whoever that commander had been that he offed must have had parents REALLY far up the chain who had the pull to go after him.

At least Franklin's half-assed recruiting attempt had given him a fair head's up that once they'd paid for his services then Windsor should get the hell out of town and lay low. Maybe he'd leave the meat head enough for a single drink as a parting gift -- assuming the man's own tactics didn't leave him dead at the end of all this.

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"It's not important right now."

Remington mentally sighed; they'd been trying to get the date of Eli's birthday out of her for five days now and she'd stubbornly insisted each time that they had more pressing matters to attend to. And yes, while technically she was correct, he didn't see any harm in them knowing when to wish her a simple "happy birthday" with the rest of it coming later. It wasn't exactly an argument but whatever you wanted to call it was interrupted by a familiar wobble from his bad knee; he immediately froze -- an impressive feat considering he was partly bent over in a stretching pose, and by shifting his good leg he was able to avoid toppling over onto his head (this time).

Eli grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him straighten up, and when he turned around she was frowning down at his legs. "Stubborn injury, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Been like that for awhile now. I've learned to live with it."

"If we just knew what was wrong I bet Stewart could fix it."

"Really? Even without all the fancy technology?"

She nodded. "Really. I've been trying to get up to speed with Xu about what survived the years and what's been developed since everything fell apart. Kind of makes me wonder if we really NEEDED all that tech back then. Made things easier but at its most basic a lot of surgeries are done in essentially the same way regardless of whether it was a man or machine holding the blade... We had an old saying about reinventing the wheel and while innovation was always pushing for new heights there were a lot of things you could say we had down to an art and couldn't really change. Can't remember the last time I'd read about a new medical advancement...and I was married to a researcher."

With Eli helping he lowered himself into the grass and rubbed gingerly at his knee; every couple of days, on top of any strength training they found the time for, Eli had him working with stretches and light exercises specifically meant to try and help that joint. So far he'd not noticed any changes aside from being constantly sore but at this point he was willing to try just about anything as he didn't relish the idea of living the rest of his life with a leg that was always threatening to suddenly buckle if he moved wrong.

"Still, a lot of things made life easier. Bare minimum," she went on, "I'd love to have at least one functional imaging machine. See everything inside without having to open you up."

"How'd those work?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you, beyond trying to explain how X-rays, radioactive tracers, and magnetic imaging works which, aside from basic facts about them, is well out of my scope of knowledge. Now, if I had Darren, or Peter or Ashley here, any of them could talk themselves blue in the face explaining how any given medical instrument worked. Stewart could explain it too if you're interested."

Peter and Ashley...if memory served those were two of the squad mates they had buried in the graveyard (they'd been keeping a close eye on those graves still) and he certainly knew who Darren was. "I won't bother Stewart with that - he'll have his hands full when the next round of scholars shows up."

With a groan she let her head drop back, staring up into the sky. "Don't remind me. The first group was nosy enough."

"These ones are coming from Vega 5 and ought to be more interested in the technical side of things rather than...well."

She flashed him a smile. "Rather than wanting to study me and how folks in the Old World lived?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I didn't think they were bothering you too much...were they?"

"Not...really? It kind of depends on how you want to quantify it - they didn't ask to meet with me a lot, but when they did they had notebooks full of questions that Stewart's social and technical programming couldn't answer and it'd take me an entire day to get through them."

He frowned. "You could have said something if they were imposing on you too much."

"I could have. But I didn't see a point in it," she sighed. "It was something that needed to be done."

He sat up and looked at her; compared to Arlo or the Flying Pigs he didn't really get a lot of one-on-one time with her outside of these recent stretching sessions but still even he could tell something was a bit...off with her tone. Like she was tired, or sad (and he didn't really need to consider why). "You've got all the time in the world to answer questions."

"Maybe. It just seemed easier to get them out of my hair and get back to-"

"-work?" Remington jutted in. "Doesn't seem like you focus on much else. Is everything all right?"

She blew out a breath that trailed into a buzzing raspberry. "Not you too."

"Me too?"

"You, and Arlo, Asher and Xu - asking if I'm all right or need anything all the time or if someone is bugging me."

"...well, friends do that, don't they?"

"They do, but not every problem or bad mood can be solved by having a friend around."

He bent his good leg so he could rest his arms on his knee, and his chin on his arms, as he gazed up at her thoughtfully. "We just -- it's not meaning to suggest anything beyond just wanting you to know the door's open, you know? I can ask everyone to tone it down but we're just - we care. That's all."

She closed her eyes and, after a moment, slumped her shoulders. "I know, and I get it, and I'm thankful for having friends around ready and willing to support and help. But it's... It's like picking at a scab. Each time I get asked, it's picking - and if you keep picking it never closes or heals, and the scar is a million times worse. And with what they did to Darren's grave I feel like someone took a diamond sander to the scab and ground down to the bone. Just when I thought I was doing better. I talk to Xu, and it helps, but each well-meaning question from everyone else is pulling scabs right now."

"All right. I'll quietly let the others know that you'll come to US if you need something and we should stop asking. But, I do know we do really want to know you, and be your friends, and be there. That's why we wanted to know about your birthday -- heck, if there's any holidays you want to celebrate I know we'll figure that out too."

She rubbed her hands across her face and held them there; when she spoke her voice was muffled but Remington didn't think she sounded too upset. "Birthdays were celebrated only on multiples of 5. I was born on the 15th of the first Spring. I would need to check with Stewart to make sure I've got the years right but I last remember passing my 37th birthday."

Remington nodded slowly, and smiled at her; in his mind, very briefly, he thought 'I'm older than she is' followed immediately by the realization that no, he was not, and no one in the world was older than she was. "All right - I'm sorry if it seemed like I was badgering you on anything but I'm also glad you told me. Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"Please. At least until I hit 40."

"It's a deal. How would you celebrate your birthday back then?"

"Gifts, an elaborate dinner. Costume parties were popular. I always ended up with costume parties because New Year's Dawn had just happened, which was a city-wide costume party so you'd always have something on hand you could wear. You'd go door to door singing songs, playing games, giving gifts, dancing in the streets. You'd stay awake as long as you could but it was expected that you'd stay awake from dawn of the last day of the year to dawn of the second day of the new year."

"That sounds an awful lot like celebrating a holiday, and not your own birthday."

She finally dropped her hands away from her face and shrugged at him. "That's what happened if your birthday fell on or close to a national holiday."

Remington went to stand and tested his weight on his bad leg; there were no wobbles, no twinges, no sudden shooting pains. "Sounds like you've had 37 years of getting the short end of the stick, then."

"You learn to live with it. Ready to keep going?"

He didn't protest the sudden change in subject; with a bit more attention and care to how he was moving his body he managed to get through the rest of the exercises without any further trouble, and though he was pretty sore when they were done he didn't mind it too much -- his next patrol would be on horseback so the joint could rest while he rode.

"We'll get there, slowly but surely," Eli said as she walked him to the gate. "Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"I plan to," he replied with a chuckle. "I was actually just thinking about that." As he latched the gate behind him he could spy Selene heading home - she was just coming out through Portia's gates. "-not to rush off or anything but I better get going. I know Selene is just wanting to pounce over party things."

"Oh I know. She's babbled about your birthday party these last few days. All the more reason for YOU to keep your trap shut."

Remington laughed. "I swear on my honor your secret is safe with me. See you later, Eli."

He hurried off and was able to dodge around Selene with a hurried 'sorry, late for my patrol' and then he was huffing and puffing up the hill toward the Corps building to collect Arrow.

When he got there though he found his saddle was missing. That was odd.

Spacer was there however and that saddle was where it was supposed to be; Remington hurriedly scribbled a note of explanation for Arlo and left it pinned to Spacer's stable stall then saddled him and headed down the road, and wondered how the heck he'd managed to misplace a saddle. Maybe someone had moved it since they were cleaning out the back wall in preparation of replacing a few shelves that were starting to dry rot and his was the only saddle that sat near those particular shelves. Most of what had been sitting on those shelves was currently in a jumbled pile in the corner across from there...maybe he ought to clean a bit of that up when he got back from patrol.

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He didn't mind that Remington had borrowed Spacer -- the horse liked the man well enough so Arlo knew there wouldn't be any trouble from the animal (unlike Teddy who typically wouldn't let anyone but Sam ride him).

What he DID mind though was by the time he'd found the note the missing saddle was back in its place, and after checking it over he found that a lot of the stitching had been carefully frayed with a knife so that it was highly likely that if Remington had been IN the saddle, moving quickly, and had made any sudden movements or sudden stops, the straps would have given way and dumped him off the horse. Teddy's saddle had likewise been tampered with but not as badly as Arrow's, and Arlo was both relieved he'd discovered that before Sam went out on a ride as well as extremely anxious for Remington's safe return because he had no reason to believe that Spacer's saddle hadn't also been sabotaged.

It was really beginning to feel like whoever was causing their current problems was trying to spread them as thin as possible, as Arlo's first thought upon discovering the sabotaged saddles was "great, now we have to watch the stables."

But...no. That was doing exactly what their spy and or vandal would want.

He still believed that the Stupid Plan idea of Eli's had merit - in fact, this was probably a result of that, assuming their spy was also their vandal - but it was time for a change in strategy.

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

"Looks like we'll be up and running within two weeks then."

It had been awhile since they'd ALL been together out at the facility; they were clustered inside the tent, looking over a collection of blueprints and measurements for the security door and signal transmitters. Eli had been shifted off her patrols and onto helping Selene get the rest of the transmitter parts made, along with the towers they'd be mounted on. With Eli's assistance they wouldn't need to bring in another builder for the assembly (though Higgins was producing the metal struts needed for the towers) and that left Merlin and Petra in charge of assembling the power sources (a mix of hydro, wind, and power stones).

Between work on that, and Mint overseeing the project to get the door installed...two weeks. They would need to manage for two weeks, and then they could bring their full attention down on catching their spy. It was nice to know that the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel wasn't something that was going to run them over.

"Do we have anything new to discuss?" Mali asked, pausing to look around at each of them in turn.

Beside him Arlo cleared his throat and Asher turned to look at him as he leaned forward to brace his hands on the little table.

"Yes, actually. Someone sabotaged all of our saddles yesterday. I think it's time we get a bit more aggressive - try to draw this person out into the open."

"I agree, because whoever this is uh-" Sam stopped abruptly, glancing briefly at Eli, before sighing. "-we had some graffiti to clean up early this morning."

"About me, I'm guessing," Eli said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Nothing too nasty but basically urging you to leave town, claiming you don't belong here, that sort of thing."

"What was the graffiti made with? Do we have any record of anyone buying paint of that color?" Remington asked.

This time she shook her head. "It was done with charcoal - really easy to clean up, thankfully, but it doesn't point to where it came from or who had it. And of course no one saw anyone doing it AND it was all at different heights so we can't really narrow anything down."

Arlo huffed. "Of course. Regardless -- I worry that letting this stretch on any further will only result in someone getting seriously hurt. It's clear our initial plan has definitely made this person more bold - just not bold enough to come close to us like they did at the tent. I think this may be the best we're going to get so we need to come up with our plan to catch them."

Remington nodded, running a hand through his hair briefly; it was hot and stuffy in this tent with all of them inside it and Asher felt his scalp prickle in the heat just watching how Remington's hair clumped together in damp strands. "We've set a trap once before for that rogue knight - we can always do it again."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, drawing out the last word. "The thing is, THAT time we definitely knew what the knight was after. There's a lot more down in the facility besides Stewart and if we set a trap it needs to be baited with whatever it is they're hoping to steal."

"It also needs to look natural - we got away with the last trap since it was in a ruins that were already falling apart. This facility is much more preserved and it's going to be harder to set something up without it looking off," Mali added.

In the brief pause that followed that exchange Asher sat up a bit straighter. "Well, it's common knowledge that we're expanding the clinic in town soon. We could use that as our staging area instead since it's going to be pretty obvious that we're moving Stewart's station there."

Arlo grimaced. "Yes, but that would be dangerous and tricky. Setting this trap would be dependent on no one else being at risk of injury -- we know this person is armed, after all, and we can't control when someone might try to trip the trap. I don't want to put Dr. Xu or Harrison, or anyone else who might be at the clinic, in danger."

Eli lightly elbowed Asher in the ribs. "AND I don't want Stewart's tech in danger of being damaged either -- if it breaks that's it because while I MIGHT know how to fix it it won't be as simple as heading down to the shop to pick up the right parts."

"Yeah...you're right about that part," Asher muttered. "So it would have to be replicas, and we'd be guessing at what the spy would go for. Do you think they'd actually know what to grab if we baited them with the server stuff or basic computer pieces?"

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Assuming they're not expecting that again? I could make something that looks genuine, important, and expensive."

Remington let out a thoughtful noise, leaning toward Eli. "How complicated would it be to do that? I don't even know what...whatever we're talking about looks like."

"Not...TOO complicated, I don't think? I -- hang on, wait. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves I need to know what's common knowledge about tech these days. Exactly how complicated and fancy I'd need to make the replicas would kind of depend on what people know or think these things look like."

They all fell silent; Asher glanced about and could see lots of thoughtful faces - he was hopeful that that meant someone had an answer, because he definitely didn't. Technology wasn't something he studied or thought about much and he'd consider himself the last person anyone ought to be asking about Old World stuff.

Finally, Mali tipped her head back to look up toward the tent's ceiling. "There's some common knowledge about Old World components but it's mostly regarding the things we commonly find. Everyone knows what chipsets are, circuit boards, monitors and displays, and odds and ends that get lumped together just as 'old parts.' We also have access to old engines of varying types that we've successfully re-created ourselves so we no longer need to rely on digging them up. In this case... I'm not sure I have the answer. But I know who would."

There was a brief pause then Arlo nodded. "Ah, right. The scholars from Vega 5 will be here soon."

Mali nodded. "Vega 5 is full of people who have studied Living AIs, and they and Atara both have large libraries full of blueprints and books on Old World tech along with everything their museums have catalogued on display. They'd be the ones to ask about what they would consider common knowledge."

"But would they know what's common knowledge in Duvos though?" Eli asked.

Mali shrugged. "It's possible. I'm not privy to everything that's been discovered through the Alliance's information networks -- the Flying Pigs are an adventuring guild who sometimes get tapped to help provide law enforcement. I know more than most but ultimately we're not a military group so we're only told what we need to know for the tasks we're given." Eli scratched at her cheek; Asher noted that, due to the heat and sweat, the simple gesture left a pair of angry red marks across her skin "Right... Maybe I should go talk to Gale when we're done here -- er, assuming you aren't putting me back on patrol duty?" she added after a moment, looking to Arlo.

"No, go talk to Gale - this is important. Afterward get back to those signal transmitters," came Arlo's answer.

"Understood."

"You sure you don't need an extra pair of hands with those things?" Asher asked then, looking between Arlo and Eli. "At the very least I can tote and carry."

Arlo considered that for a moment, then glanced to Eli. "Your thoughts?"

She huffed out a breath. "Carrying, sure. But it'd just slow us down if we have to explain how to assemble. We DO need someone to start bundling the tower pieces and that's also something you could do without much instruction needed - get the finished bits from Higgins, ensure we've got everything, sort it out into sets for assembly. Basic stuff."

"All right -- go ahead and help them with the heavy lifting and getting the tower parts ready to transport. Eli, once you've talked to Gale come find me in the Corps building -- Mali, if you'd like to join me for that feel free." Mali and Eli both nodded, and Arlo blew out a breath. "I think that covers everything-"

"Hey- HEY!"

They all jumped to their feet at the shout from beyond the tent; Asher was still getting to know a lot of the townsfolk but he thought that sounded a lot like--

As he was closest to the tent flap Asher stuck his head out to see Albert sprinting toward them; when the man saw him he started waving his hands and his sprint was slowing. Asher in turn hurried out of the tent and began running toward him, faintly aware of the sound of several pairs of feet following along behind him, and about halfway to the man Albert came to a stop entirely and doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Portia...ruins...cave in..." Albert was gasping as Asher came skidding to a stop beside him. "One under...church..."

"Oh hell," Asher muttered. He spun around as Eli, Arlo, Mali, and Remington reached them. "Cave in at the ruins under the church."

"Was anyone hurt?" Arlo asked immediately. Albert could only nod as he struggled to catch his breath and Arlo broke into a run again while calling orders over his shoulder. "Asher - take Albert to the tent to catch his breath. Remington and Eli with me."

The others went running off and Asher put a hand on Albert's shoulder. "Sit down here in the grass, mind the marshy spots - we'll take a minute here and then we'll walk to the tent, all right?"

"I'll ask Sam to stay out here with Adam," Mali interrupted. "After that I will join Arlo and the others in town - stay with Albert until he's recovered then escort him back to town."

"Got it," Asher replied. Mali immediately ran back the way she'd come and Asher turned his attention back to Albert. "Deep breaths, man, it'll be all right. Do you know what happened?"

Albert took several more breaths; he seemed to be breathing a bit easier. After an especially deep breath he lifted his head to look up at Asher. "Not...a clue. Heard a...loud noise. Couple folks...out of the ruins, shouting...about a cave in. Gale already there...told me to come get you all. I was closest."

Damn it... They should have had this meeting at the Corps building, not all the way out here; even as he thought that he knew that was very unfair as all their patrol routes for this morning had had them all out this way and it was quickest and easiest to gather here, but... Well, honestly it could have been worse timing. At least out here they'd all been in one place but had this happened at any other time of day or any other day in general they would've been spread across the countryside with only two of them in town.

"Think you can make it to the tent? We'll get some water in you, can sit a bit, then we'll head back to Portia."

Albert nodded and straightened and the two of them began to (slowly) walk toward the Pigs's tent. Mali was already heading back toward them and they exchanged nods as she passed and kept on going.

"What kind of loud noise did you hear?"

"Just a loud boom and a rumbling."

Asher frowned - a loud boom? "Like...a KABOOM-kind of boom? Like something exploded?"

"I couldn't tell you. It was more - more of a sound that sort of hit you in the chest, more than in the ears, and one you could feel through your feet. Our building is closest to those ruins so it's no wonder that we heard something."

"We? You and Gust I'm guessing?"

Albert nodded. "I went to the ruins, and Gust went for Gale. And then Gale told me to run out here."

"How many came out of those ruins?"

"Um - I saw three folks. Covered in dust, one of them was bloodied. They were all shaken up and just shouting 'cave in cave in' over and over."

Asher went quiet, chewing on his lower lip. He wanted to simply believe that the ruins had partially collapsed but something nagged at him over it; the Civil Corps and the Flying Pigs both conducted regular inspections of all ruins across the Alliance of Free Cities to make sure they remained safe for public use. There's NO WAY they would've missed a structural weakness that was so dangerous as to cause a cave in...someone on the inside had to have caused this. A careless digger, or...

The saddles might have just been the first attempt to send a message.

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Four injured, one dead. All in all, considering there had been eight people inside the ruins at the time of the collapse, it could have been much worse.

Still. It was slightly guilt-inducing to feel relieved that ONLY one person had been killed -- no one was sure where she'd come from but they'd matched her description to the list of Happy Apartment hotel-based rentals so they had a name but no way to contact any next of kin, nor did they know if this Kara person had any sort of surname at all either. It would make for a somewhat plain headstone but at least they had the first name.

Sam, along with Mali and Higgins, had worked quickly to get a makeshift door in place and the rest of the entryway to the ruins boarded up; tomorrow Dana would be traveling to Portia to help Mali investigate what had caused the collapse. Sam had wanted to go in with them as well but she'd gotten a resounding "no" from Arlo, Mali, and Gale - all at the same time, no less. She supposed that made sense as she wasn't a miner or builder or anyone who would know anything about structural integrity (or whatever Mali had called it), and the fewer people at risk inside for a follow up collapse, the better.

As she walked up the hill toward the Corps building it was hard to miss the silence in this half of town; Ack hadn't been at his usual spot in the plaza, there weren't any tourists or townsfolk walking about. Even the Round Table had seemed a bit quiet when she'd passed by moments ago.

Portia had certainly had a streak of bad luck lately... The pessimistic side of her wondered how the spy would find a way to take advantage of the chaos.

As she crested the hill she spotted a man leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the central plaza; he had his back to her but she recognized the coat he had on (even in this heat).

"Bob? I thought you would've moved on by now," she called out.

The man jumped and spun around, stumbling a bit as he boot caught on an upraised stone. "Huh! Huh? Well. Yeah, maybe. Thought I should. Been tired lately."

Sam nodded and walked over, crossing her arms and eying the man. He was a harmless drifter and she didn't suspect anything of him but he was also somewhat regular - he arrived in the spring, left at the start of the summer season, and then came back mid-autumn. "Something wrong?"

"Not really. Just got a feeling. Road might not be safe."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I remember someone telling me there was a thief around. I don't carry valuables. But that's not all someone could take."

"Bob... Do you think someone's trying to harm you in some way?" she asked.

The man fidgeted a bit. "Not me. I think? But I've seen some ghosts. Footprints out of thin air. I don't want to share a road with it."

Sam stared at him. "...where did you see these footprints? Can you show me?"

Bob shook his head. "Not now - been too long. Saw them on the beach while I was stargazing. Walking west. Too close to where I'd pass going back south."

"How long ago was this?"

The man shrugged, then scratched at his head. "Not sure. I don't do so well with time anymore."

"But it was recent, at least?"

He nodded; Sam mulled that over -- it sounded like Bob had spotted their spy out in the wild. "How about we walk together to where you saw the footprints and you tell me whatever you can remember about when you saw them and what you were doing?"

He nodded again and walked with her back down the hill. As they passed under the gates she wondered if she shouldn't call for back up but... Well. She could think of a lot of reasons to do so, and the reasons not to didn't seem as convincing so as they continued down the road she gestured for them to detour toward Selene's house. Eli ought to be in the factory helping assemble, and Asher ought to be here too. Surely one of them could shift over to walk out to...wherever, with her and Bob.

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That she hadn't known Kara made it easier to look genuine when it came to keeping her expression appropriately sad-looking as they buried the woman; it was a small ceremony with a smattering of Portians present, along with the full force of the Civil Corps -- being as she didn't see them she assumed that the Flying Pigs members were out at the facility, as usual. They seemed to never, ever leave the place unguarded and, as she'd discovered the other evening while doing some recon, there was a gigantic build project of some kind being carried out at the facility's entrance now -- if she had to guess it looked like some sort of covering, or door.

That likely meant they were really doubling down on the security out there, and while what she was after was being moved out of the facility she was beginning to get worried -- if they sealed that place up tight that would free the Pigs up to directly watch the construction of the clinic addition and the installation of the All Source AI.

And that would make Lily's job even harder while now also being down a team member.

After the funeral it was announced that the ruins would be closed for the time being to conduct an investigation into the cause of the collapse; that at least didn't effect any of them remaining but it ALSO carried the high risk of bringing in more outside people -- more Pigs, more nosy law-types, the possibilities were starting to pile up.

Days ago she'd been bitching about how long it was taking them to start construction; she'd seen buildings put up in a matter of days in Duvos -- how hard could one addition to an already existing building be?

Now... As much as she didn't want to disappoint Xan, they might indeed have to change their plans to have any chance of this heist succeeding.

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

They always put out the paper on the first of every month. Always. Without fail -- even if it meant that she and Erwa stayed up all night fixing issues with their printing press machine or working to get wording on an article juuuuust right.

The first of the month was still six days away but Gale had asked for a special edition to be produced. It was the hardest thing Mei had ever had to write: all this...all this alarming detail on a vandal, a thief attempting to break into the medical facility in the marsh, and now the devastating discovery that the cave in two days ago had been purposely caused by tiny explosive charges. It was such awful news that sometimes Mei found her hand shaking as she scribbled notes and drew arrows or crossed out paragraphs as she tried to get things into order both chronologically and also in a manner that flowed well for reading.

There were still a few hours to go before they needed to start printing and there was just one thing Mei wanted to get done before then but then again... It wasn't a nice subject and she didn't want to offend anyone - especially not the person she'd like to interview regarding all this.

But. She wouldn't know if she'd be offending unless she asked.

Selene's workshop was a familiar sight - Mei had been out here a lot over the years, both before and after large city projects were announced and completed with the builder's help - so she knew better than to knock on the house's door and instead marched up to to the factory door and really gave it a good pounding. After a few minutes the door opened and an oil-smudged Selene was framed in the doorway, and once it registered who was there Mei was offered a big, bright smile.

"Hey! What're you doing out here?"

"Hello Selene! I was wondering if Eli was still here?"

Selene nodded and stepped aside, gesturing with one hand toward a makeshift workbench set up perpendicular to her usual one; lined up shoulder to shoulder was Eli, Petra, and Merlin, all hurriedly working to assemble bits and doodads that Mei guessed was all meant to fit into a much bigger contraption of some kind.

It was unusually quiet in here today as well; only a handful of the machines were running -- that must mean whatever Selene was working on either didn't need a lot of pieces or maybe it was almost complete. She stepped inside and out of the way so Selene could close the door and then noted that the latest member of the Civil Corps, Asher, was sorting large metal struts and rods into organized piles against the far wall, moving about in short bursts and then checking off things on a clipboard he had hanging off his belt.

"I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't, am I?"

"Not really - we can spare a pair of hands for a bit." Selene led Mei over toward Eli and the Research Center gals. "Mei's wanting to talk to you, Eli."

The woman looked up at them (though Mei noticed her hands didn't stop what they were doing - it was kind of impressive to see her keep working without her looking at the pieces) and silently lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh - um, yes. I was wondering if you could spare some time to give a few statements for the article we're writing for the paper?" Mei asked into the pause.

"Uh..." Eli drew the word out, returning her attention to what her hands were doing. It seemed immediately clear that whatever her answer was going to be it would have to wait until she'd finished off this piece of...whatever it was; Mei waited patiently, and watched with a bit of curiosity, until Eli had slotted all the pieces together and tightened down all the screws. "-all right, sure. Let's step outside for some air."

Mei led the way outside and then followed as Eli took an abrupt turn to the western side of the factory -- there was a cluster of stools out here and they both settled on one, and Mei hurried to pull out her little notebook.

"All right - of course, if you find any of my questions upsetting it's perfectly fine not to answer. I don't mind at all!"

Eli nodded. "Ask away."

"How would you say the situation is currently going?"

"Which one are you referring to?"

"Let's start with the vandal. It couldn't have been easy to see the gravestone damaged like that."

For several breaths Eli didn't answer. Mei sat patiently with her pen poised over the blank sheet of notebook paper with her free hand pinning the loose edge down; this side of the factory was currently in the shade and the breeze was a bit strong as the wind rushed along the flat brick. It was a nice place to sit but if she wasn't careful her notes would get scattered across the yard since not all the pages were still bound to the wire spiral.

"It wasn't, no. It's clear whoever did it wanted their message heard, and intended it to hurt. It did, I won't lie, but also, it really shows just how much of a coward this person is since they didn't confront me directly. Same with all the other instances of graffiti lately -- they're not brave enough to say anything to my face. In that context, it's a bit comical."

It took about the same amount of time for Mei to write that down as it had for Eli to say it. "-and do you have any guesses as to who this person is?" Eli shook her head but didn't elaborate; Mei added a little mark after the quote to remind herself of the answer. "How about things out at the medical facility? Has there been any further attempts to break in?"

"No, and soon there won't be any chances of a break in either. We're installing a security door and will work toward preserving the facility as it is."

Mei had heard about the door - she wondered what it would look like when it was done. "And do you have any opinion on the expansion at the clinic, since it's rumored that you'll be incorporating an All Source AI into the building?"

Eli blinked at her. "Incorp- uh, maybe that definition has changed in three hundred years but we're not incorporating him into anything. He'll be installed and be there to teach and treat, but he won't be in charge of or able to run the clinic by himself. For one, there's no other computers or AIs for him to oversee, and secondly the building will be just a building without any tech for him to monitor either."

"Do you have any worries about how having an All Source AI teaching humans would be seen in the greater world?"

With a loud sigh Eli leaned back against the brick wall. "I do, sort of. I worry that zealots in your Church won't be able to look past him being a part of the Old World and try to destroy him, in which case all the knowledge he holds would be lost along with him. Hand in hand with that I also worry about what he'd be teaching and to whom."

Mei looked up from her notes in surprise. "You think he'd teach something bad? Or bad people?"

"Not exactly "bad" in either case, its more I worry people will try to somehow hoard the knowledge -- even hypothetical enemies deserve the right to live disease and injury free. I wouldn't really say there's right and wrong people to teach, but I do think there will be people out there who think they're the only ones who have a right to the knowledge, or who think some knowledge is fine but some of it should be scrubbed from history. We even had a bit of a problem with myths and misinformation regarding certain diseases in my time and that was with an entire world's worth of knowledge available to anyone at any time."

Mei slowly nodded at that; it reminded her of an article she'd written a few years ago about the push-back of remedies coming from a doctor in Vega 5. "So, even if people don't want to keep the knowledge to themselves there's also a question of whether some would accept it, at all."

"Exactly. I imagine there's going to be a lot of entrenched doctors scattered across the world who think their way is best and will be unwilling to change. It'll be a bit messy in the upcoming years but I hope the overall health and life expectancy of the world goes up as the knowledge spreads -- and hopefully it'll be fairly uniform across the world, not just in small clusters due to hoarding or refusal to adapt."

With her hand cramping from how quickly she was trying to write Mei managed to get all that down in her notes; she'd gotten a little carried away as she'd only wanted a few lines to quote but this could potentially be an article all on its own. She was just about to shut the book when a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Right - there's been a lot of questions about the metal towers that were put up recently. Are you able to explain what those are for?"

"You guys use telegraphs for long distance communication, right?"

Mei nodded. "For messages that can't wait for couriers."

"Right. So, those towers are the first of many that will hold...how to put it in simple terms... Think of a telegraph that doesn't need wires, is more reliable and secure, and also can just send words instead of having to tap a little button and have someone translate at the other end. We're trying it out here in Portia and maybe in the future, assuming it works and can be reliably maintained, we could extend it across the continent."

"What, really?" Mei asked, eyes widening. "That's huge!"

Eli was giving her an amused look and Mei realized her jaw was hanging open; she scrawled an almost unreadable note about the towers underneath the rest of it. "Ah, um - uh, so, when will THAT project be completed?"

"It'll take some time. Getting everything installed is the easy part. Getting it all to work correctly will be hard."

"So...no...expected...completion date yet?" Mei asked as she wrote, glancing up from the writing to Eli, then underlining the 'no' as Eli shook her head. "That's very exciting... Will it be something anyone could use? Will it cost a lot?"

Eli paused, then offered a half shrug. "Well, I guess that first answer is yes and no. In terms of complexity anyone will be able to use it because it's not difficult at all to learn, but initially there's going to be a problem with getting parts to both maintain and expand it so there won't be a lot of the system in place for widespread use to start. I don't have any idea on cost just yet - we're using a combination of wind, water, and power stones to start off with. I'm relatively certain I know how much energy this will draw but won't know exact numbers until its been up and running for awhile."

"And...you're ok with this technology spreading?"

Eli snorted loudly. "I am," she replied, placing heavy emphasis on 'I.' "No idea about the rest of the world."

Mei hummed to herself as she put down a few more notes. "This could be an article by itself... All right. That was everything I had in mind for this piece. Unless you'd like to add anything?"

"Not in particular."

"Well, thank you!" Mei said, smiling and shoving a hand toward her. Eli shook it with a bit of a smile and then stood. "I'll get this over to the paper and you'll be seeing it in print soon!"

Eli didn't reply beyond nodding, then led the way around the building where she went back inside while Mei headed toward the gate; she felt a bit lightheaded -- like she was floating across the grass. The prospect of a better, more secure communications system that was instantaneous made her giddy; imagine how much faster information could travel. Imagine how quickly a message back home could reach family...how much easier it would be to stay in touch with the Atara Post about her progress with the Portia Times.

There were dozens of ways she could instantly imagine her life getting easier if this communication thing worked, and that was just for HER - she couldn't even clearly conceive all the ways the entire Alliance could make use of such a thing.

As she walked through the doors into the news building she managed to pull her thoughts away from the communications scoop and set herself back on track regarding the special edition Gale had asked them to put out; it didn't appear Erwa was here but that was ok - Mei could work on a rough draft and get his opinion later when he came back.

Eli hadn't been the only one she'd interviewed today so the first order of business was to quickly reread her notes and decide where to insert Eli's bit into the order she'd tentatively decided on earlier; this article needed to be a direct and firm read, with a logical flow to the information, but it couldn't have a tone to it that would cause undue alarm. People had a right to know that the cave in was actually a murder, but how to word it so that it wouldn't cause a panic in town...

And also, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to include anything referencing the communications project. Prior to talking to Eli she'd assumed the towers were related to the security project out at the facility but now it seemed they were unrelated to each other, and...well, if they had a vandal snooping around it wouldn't do to draw attention to something this valuable.

...yeah. It made more sense to relegate the communications towers to its own separate article, AFTER the vandal (or murderer? Or both?) had been taken care of. At the very least that cut out a good amount of information she would've had to figure out how to fit onto the front page with everything else.

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

Windsor had "claimed" a small area of the Peach Plaza for his impromptu performances; a decent number of people expected him to be there in the mornings and later at night, showing off his juggling and throwing skills (a few had even donated some small straw targets for him to use so he'd changed up his routine a bit). It may have just been a cover job but it was bringing in decent money; it was a nice little perk to the whole thing but if they didn't get moving on this theft job soon he wouldn't be able to keep playing off the "too poor to go back home" angle of his cover story.

The atmosphere in Portia seemed a bit...strange this morning. There weren't nearly as many people moving about in the central plaza as usual, and as he went plodding up the hill passed the shops he was a bit alarmed to see a small crowd of people that WEREN'T his usual audience huddled roughly in his spot near the fountain. As he drew closer he could see all of them clutching papers in hand, and there was a dull roar of chatter among them. In their midst was a squat, hairy man in an orange vest and hat, and a blonde woman wearing a blue and white pointy hat; they appeared to be handing out whatever the paper was, and when he finally got close enough to the gathering he saw it was a thin newspaper with "SPECIAL EDITION" printed in big, bold letters across its top with "Portia Times" printed in slightly smaller text beneath it.

Through a gap in the crowd the hat-wearing blonde noticed him, and carefully wound her way through the group toward him with one of the papers in hand, pushed out toward him.

"Good morning, sir - would you like to read this special release of the Portia Times? This copy is free, paid for by Portia's government."

"Uh...sure. What seems to be the ruckus?" he replied, taking the paper and skimming the-

...oh. Oh boy. Well, that wasn't good.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 20 #Arlo #Mali #Remington #Sam #Flying Pigs #Albert #Mei #My Time at Portia

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Codename Cupid: Chapter 11

Previous: Tailing Taehyung

Pairing: Min Yoongi X OFC

Genre: Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of Consensual Sex

Summary: The final part of Suga’s orders are carried out.

Codename Another Shot at Love Pt. 4

Winter After Graduation

December and January passed without much to report. That being said, everything that OT7 had planned went swimmingly, with one singular exception.

The dinner at the Lee estate had sent a wave of insecurity through Euna, which made it easy for Yoongi to feign ignorance when he began, deliberately, to pull away from her.

The first few weeks after dinner were filled with Yoongi convincing Euna that he was going to stay, that he was all in, that he wanted to be with her. She believed him, and by believing him, started the early drafts of their futures together. He hated the deception, the lies he strung together as easily as breathing, the files and documents charting his deception updated daily by Hoseok.

Hoseok had the unpleasant task of transcribing all conversation and interactions between marks and members of OT7, his specialized training and exceptional hearing made his job easy. Yoongi was instructed to record everything, except sex or any hooking up that went down. Being in charge of most of the tech, he wielded his glasses and watch, set to record when they were on his person, set to turn off when they couldn’t detect his body heat. He could manually turn them off, a button on his watch near the band allowed him to with ease. He’d only fucked up once or twice, not recording when Cupid spilled important info, which angered Namjoon to no end. They weren’t amateurs, Yoongi should know better. Regardless, everyday Hobi transcribed the conversations between Yoongi and Cupid, adding more to the list and charts of the lies being told.

“Jun-Seo said that Jimin wanted to send you something, a welcome to the gang, gift,” Euna said over dinner.

Surprised and pouting, Yoongi responded, “A gift?”

“Knowing Jun-Seo and Jimin, it’s probably a Dae-Seong voodoo doll,” Euna shrugged.

“Okay, did they want to drop it off or give it to you?” Yoongi shrugged it off.

“Jimin wants to have dinner, the four of us,” Euna told him, sipping her wine.

Nodding again, Yoongi asked, “How do you feel about that?”

“I would rather not,” Euna said.

“Then we won’t.”

“Isn’t it part of being a family?” She asked, unsure what the protocol of a functioning family was.

“Having dinner? Didn’t we just witness Guadalcanal? You think the troops wanted to hang with the natives after they slaughtered them?” Yoongi scoffed. He hated how docile Cupid was towards her family, always doing what she thought was right, rarely what she wanted.

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad,” Euna responded.

“You’re shitting me,” Yoongi’s eyes were wide. “War is not normal, I mean, besides Iraq and Afghanistan, that’s normal.”

“No, I’m not. We’ve had far worse, that one was honestly, average. At least my mom made it through the entire meal, and no one broke a glass or threw a plate at Dae. They weren’t on their best behavior, but it was better than most meals we share,” Euna informed him.

“That’s toxic, psychotic, that’s fucking horrifying, Euna. You don’t have to put up with that.” Yoongi took her hand in his while she watched her roll her eyes.

“Didn’t you know that, though?” She snapped.

“Know what?”

“The Lee family, and Lee Enterprises, breeds nothing but toxicity and wages psychological warfare on every member of the inner circle. That’s why no one leaves,” Euna’s temper continued to flare throughout the night, sleeping as far from Yoongi as possible, barely acknowledging him as he slipped from her home the next morning.

Arriving at work the next day, Yoongi and the OT7 team spent an additional week tracing the longevity of careers at Enterprises, as well as tracking hirings, firings and workers who just disappeared from records.

“Who’s been there the longest?” Namjoon asked, files scattered across the conference table, writing strewn on the glass between offices. He was growing tired, a sign from the cold he’d acquired running a surveillance mission with their recent acquisition, a trainee ready to be put into the field.

“Not including the Lee family, that would include a somewhat distant Vanderbilt relative, a Henry Claypoole,” Yoongi said.

“Not a Korean?” Seokjin asked.

“No, the Lee’s didn’t rise into prominence until, well, it looks like the late 80s, when they did a market sample and it became apparent that an Asian-American owned company would serve better in the future than another fortune 500 owned by a white family, that and Vietnam had ended and American sentiment towards Asians of all kind was changing,” Namjoon responded.

“Once the Civil Rights Act passed, and the government continued to allow Asians immigrate, opinions were changing.” Yoongi added.

“It wasn’t that long after Vietnam though,” Seokjin was skeptical.

“It didn’t go over well, they hadn’t gone public until the early 2000s, so it balanced out. It was pretty hush-hush until the mid 90s when Claypoole died.” Namjoon pulled up the paperwork, passing it to Jin.

“Still, Vietnam, AIDs, their investors were okay with this?”

“At the heart of the Lee business model, is a relentless grab for power. They were making ins with the wealthiest families in Asia, Europe, UAE, Middle East and South America. There wasn’t a royal family or billionaire who hadn’t put their money in,” Namjoon told the men.

Curious, Seokjin asked, “Before it was Lee Enterprises, what was it called?”

“Claypoole & Lee Enterprises,” Hoseok responded. He’d forged a few older documents with their old insignia and water mark.

“CLE?” Jin had looked at their old stocks, comparing them to other companies when he was in college. They were a fickle company, always hard to pin down or predict.

“Yes,” Hoseok answered again.

“They changed their name?” Jin confirmed.

“It was a complete rebranding to help with their demographics, but it also made sense once Claypoole was six feet under.” Namjoon replied.

“The less American, the better?” Jin clarified.

“Exactly, better for the global image,” Namjoon adjusted his glasses before running a hand through his hair. Dark and quaffed, it fell back into place in gently swoops.

“Claypoole worked in the bank from day one,” Yoongi addressed the three men.

“Claypoole was just a figurehead, the original chairman of the board while Lee and his crew ran the company,” Namjoon said.

“How do their hiring practices measure up?” Hoseok asked, he spent zero time reading and understanding the internal workings of the company unless he has to write in a specific person’s voice.

“They accept applicants in pools, hiring in spring/summer, train in fall, then reevaluate the following spring. Their classes or cohorts are no more than ten people, with a few exceptions based on the market demands and company growth. Some years, specifically at the beginning of the tech boom, they hired fifty people, other years, six. It is fairly unpredictable,” Namjoon passed around another set of documents.

“The most tenured staff has been there for thirty years,” Yoongi said sipping his coffee.

“Yoongi, you haven’t had to sign an NDA?” Hoseok asked.

“No.”

“What about retention?”

“No one talks about retention. It wasn’t in my contract at all, no blind clauses or double language.”

“Has anyone left in the year you’ve been there?”

“Not that I’ve seen. No one talks about contracts or negotiation outside of the speculation of what will happen come May.”

“Their plans for negotiating contracts also vary by years spent, first years going through a level of hell that slowly descends as you work your way up the ladder,” Yoongi informed.

“Why would they want people to stay?” Hoseok asked.

“They’re all complicit? They knowingly are committing felonies, so staying means no one can hold it against them?” Yoongi suggested.

“An entire company of 200 people, all insider trading? All embezzling? That’s inconceivable,” Namjoon was unsure how realistic the possibility was.

“An entire company, minus one,” Jin whispered.

“Yoongi, how is our Cupid doing?” Hoseok smirked.

“She wants to move in,” Yoongi muttered.

“What?” Seokjin yelled.

“Yeah, oh, and her clothes have begun to infiltrate my closet,” Yoongi sipped his iced americano, his own making, a product of the espresso machine he had begged Namjoon to buy. The coffee ice cubes, a stupid idea from a pop-up video, had turned Yoongi’s favorite addiction into a godly experience.

“She wants to move in, with you?” Hoseok was shocked.

“Fuck off,” Snapped Yoongi.

“What else?” Namjoon asked.

“She’s been calling a lot, at random times in the day. She’s got snacks in her apartment for me, like really niche stuff. She bought a thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey for me, bought me a pair of silk pajamas that cost near $550. The worst of it all, and I swear, I swear, she’s developing an impregnation kink.”

Namjoon and Hoseok laughed, doubling over to hold their sides as they became consumed by the idea.

“Seriously?” Hoseok gasped.

“Whatever happened at that dinner has her scared shitless,” Seokjin remained calm, though the shock etched into his ageless features. “She’s never wanted kids.”

“Which is why it’s concerning,” Yoongi said.

“You stopped using condoms?” Namjoon dropped the laughter to stare at Yoongi. “Don’t tell me you stopped using-

Yoongi’s eyes widen, cheeks tinting pink as he blushes. “No, no, that’s how I know she’s developing this, obsession. She very vocally, wants my fucking seed.”

“Does she ask you not to use one?” Hoseok inquired.

“Yeah and tells me I can take it off and I don’t need to because she’s on birth control, which she isn’t.”

“Pull out?” Hoseok suggested.

“Oh yeah, the second least successful method to avoid pregnancy,” Namjoon laughed again.

“You can tell her you don’t want STI’s,” Jin offered.

“She’ll ask if I’m sleeping with other people,” Yoongi had gone through every option, there was no good solution. He pissed off Cupid, or he put himself at risk. Unwanted pregnancy was not how he was going to start off his mid-twenties. Fatherhood was not on the table, especially not with someone he at his core, didn’t love.

“Are you?” Jin wondered.

Rolling his eyes, “When would I have the time?”

“You’ve always been a one partner kind of guy,” Hoseok responded.

Confusion in his eyes, Yoongi tilted his head. “What does that even mean?”

“Just that-

“Yoongi, start distancing yourself, as gradually as possible,” Namjoon redirected.

“Roger that.”

It was a cliché, become a horrible partner to get the other person to break up with you so you didn’t have to. It’s even more of a cliché for the person hoping to be dumped to revert back to their pre-relationship behavior in order to get their partner to dislike them, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that was exactly what Yoongi did. Frankly, he didn’t have to try very hard, though, to get Euna to be hurt by him.

Introverted in nature, he began by closing himself off to her, cancelling plans, bailing at the last second. He became withholding of sex and general intimacy, being standoffish when she tried to get him to open up, annoyed when she tried to use her wiles against him. He tapped into all the flaws past partners had accused him of and let them run wild.

It was slow at first, building up Cupid’s resentment towards him, for every step away from her he took, she took three more towards him. Her internet searches became solely based on ways to keep Yoongi, entrapment through a hole in the condom, or preying on him after a night of drinking. She lost all sense of what was acceptable, what was normal, and spun out completely. Cupid tried to track his phone, bought burners to call and catfish him, put extra security in place in his corner of Lee Enterprises to ensure she had eyes on him all day. Paranoia and obsession have no place in a healthy, stable relationship, but Yoongi couldn’t fault her for feeling both towards him.

The final straw, on Yoongi’s end, was a confrontation the night following Cupid’s weekly family dinner.

“Why didn’t you come to dinner? Who were you with?” Cupid demanded when she called Yoongi.

“I told you, I have a deadline and Matthew needs the plans before the market opens on Monday,” Yoongi reminded her.

“You’re not at work,” She snapped.

Calmly, Yoongi exhaled, “I’m at my apartment.”

“Why are you lying to me,” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.

“I’m not lying, Euna, I am at home working,” Yoongi answered.

“Why don’t you ever come to dinner?”

“You said I didn’t have to, after the first one,” Yoongi reminded her.

Cupid scoffed, as if that was a true reason. “Jimin’s there, and recently, Dae’s wife has been making an appearance.”

“I would prefer to not engage with your family unless I have to. It blurs the lines of work and personal –

“But you’re dating me! You’re fucking me, you’re in love with me.” She rattled off, “Why does my family have to be the problem? What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi was already tired of the conversation.

“You’ve been acting weird for months. You don’t want to sleep with me, you hardly stay over, you’re distant and weird,” Accusation after accusation, Yoongi had made a list himself of what she could potentially throw at him.

“I have been going through a lot, can’t you understand that?”

Scoffing again, Cupid responded. “You’ve been going through a lot? What about me?”

“Euna, I know I’ve been shit, I just-

“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” Bingo.

“What?” Yoongi feigned hurt.

“You’re not denying it,” She snapped.

“Do you really think that?”

“Yes, Yoongi, I do. I think you used me to get into good graces with the company so you can move up the ladder. Now that you’ve got some traction, you fucking don’t care about me or our relationship.”

“That’s crazy! When have I ever shown any sign of wanting to move up the corporate ladder? It wasn’t my idea to fall into bed with you, Euna, your mother set this up,” The angrier he pretended to be, the faster this would be over.

“Why are you acting like this if you’re still in love with me?” She demanded to know.

“I told you, works been chaotic and I –

“If work’s chaotic, why not tell me? I can change that.”

He held in a laugh, “That would be like nepotism but worse.”

“Are you saying this to make me feel better?” She asked, voice softening.

“Euna,” If only she could see him, eyes closed, glasses on his desk, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired. Tired of Euna, tired of working at this company, tired of lying. He didn’t often burn out on missions, but this had taken him to his edge.

“You don’t want to have sex, you don’t want me in your space, you cancel plans, you never answer my calls. Yoongi, are you cheating on me?”

“What?”

“You are, aren’t you?” She could feel the tears breaking through, the resolve of anger she had disappearing.

Yoongi took a deep breath, knowing she was going to throw up whatever she could until it stuck.

“Euna, stop,” Yoongi sighed.

“Then tell me what’s going on,” She whispered.

He had to say it, he had to otherwise this fight would continue on, resulting in an in person confrontation. “We should break up.”

The silence on the other end was worse than her screaming at him.

“What?” Her voice was still soft, a heartbroken whisper.

“We want really different things, and I don’t know if I can or will ever be able to give you what you need. I’m sorry, Euna, I am,” Yoongi said. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, he loved fiercely and passionately. But Cupid was a mark, plain and simple.

“Fuck you, Yoongi,” She spit.

“I’m sorry, Euna,” He laid on the apology.

“You had my heart,” She sniffled.

“I know,” He sighed.

“And you stomped on it, ran it over with an 18-wheeler, and threw it into a blender. Fuck. You.” Cupid was back to anger, coursing through her like lava down the side of Kilauea.

“I’m sorry,” He repeated.

“I want my stuff back, and I want you to put in your transfer at Lee Enterprises,” Her voice was fueled by anger and sudden heartache.

“A what?” Yoongi was shocked.

“Transfer, you can’t work under me after this,” She had switched to business mode. There was one thing Yoongi had remained impressed by, and that was Cupid’s ability to put the job over everything else, everyone else, not because she had to, because she wanted to.

“That’s unlawful,” Yoongi warned.

“I don’t care.”

“Euna,” He pleased.

“Transfer, or I will fire you.” An ultimatum, something she never wanted to be faced with.

“You can’t –

“Don’t. Test. Me.”

“Okay, I’ll do it Monday,” Yoongi compromised.

“You can send my stuff back, I don’t want to see you.” Cupid hung up. In her home, she threw her phone against the wall, watching it rebound onto the carpet before she fell to the floor, tears abounding. How many heartbreaks could she withstand? How many tears would fall at the emotions of another man, breaking her spirit? In some deep recesses of her subconscious, Dae-Seong’s words played through without a scratch. Maybe he’d been right.

Yoongi texted OT7, who no doubt had already known through the rapid transcription Hobi was almost certainly completing, or through listening to the fight go down. The receipts would show that Yoongi had followed orders as directed, he completed his mission, his mark had been hit. Hook, line and heartbreak. Looking at the calendar, he laughed darkly. Of course, he would break up with her days before Valentine’s Day.

Next: Codename The Mochi of It All

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thewebcomicsreview · 4 years

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Is it weird that I actually like Homestuck 2, and am at the same time going “Oh Christ, I have to read it now”?

Regardless! New planet! New lore! Will we get a whole new species now? I really hope so, it’d be lame (and nonsensical) is it were just more trolls. I want to see what the natives of Universe C look like!

I didn’t think about it enough in Chapter 1, but the fact that Terezi crash-landed the ship, apparently on purpose and for lulz, is really weird. This is a bit past “prankster” and more in the realm of “the player you stop inviting to DnD”. Wandering out in space for years and fucking John Egbert changes a person.

New looks for everyone! Fun fact: That painting behind Dirk - which is a real painting Andrew Hussie owns - actually made a cameo appearance in Legend of the Hare!

Which was mostly a reference but also foreshadowing that Mary here would be the Horse Champion. Anyway, new looks for everyone! Homestuck characters used to change appearances constantly but it sort of stopped after Act 6, so it’s nice to see the return of Fashion. Apparently, Terezi ditched Jade’s shoes at some point for dragony ones and grew her hair out, while Rose is wearing a statue of liberty tiara, which is probably a reference to all the statues of liberty Alpha Dave made in that timeline for reasons that never seemed to matter at the time but now might.

This is a cute little subtle gag. Dirk’s “Terezi, you too” was extending the “Render yourself more symbolically” command, but Terezi thought it was a continuation of Dirk’s line from the previous page. She’s not as immune to his powers as she things. That green jacket is more than a little evocative of Lord English, and the color-loving Terezi could probably be convinced to trade the gold trim for flashing colors. Just a thought to keep in the back of your mind.

ROSEBOT: At the very least, none of us succumbed to substance abuse. Or re-succumbed, I guess I should say.

ROSEBOT: The perks of not having an appetite or a liver, in my case.

ROSEBOT: In yours... I'm actually not sure. Perhaps the underlying cognitive dissonance or trauma you were originally trying to distract yourself from is no longer a going concern?

ROSEBOT: Or... ROSEBOT: No, wait. ROSEBOT: That's not right. ROSEBOT: I'm thinking of a different Terezi. ROSEBOT: Or maybe I'm thinking of a different me? ROSEBOT: Maybe the different me is thinking of a different Terezi, and I'm just witnessing the thought happen as a bystander. ROSEBOT: It's much the same thing at this point. ROSEBOT: ... ROSEBOT: And I suppose I'm also prematurely ruling out the potential of anime functioning as an abusable substance. ROSEBOT: In which case I've got very bad news for all of us.

The plot of Homestuck is so convoluted that even the characters can’t keep it straight anymore. Rose is referring to her struggles with alcoholism in the original Game Over timeline, but this Rose is from the post-Retcon timeline, and going Ultimate is causing them all to blend together in her mind. Also she seems to think that Game Over Terezi’s problem was being addicted to Faygo, not having an abusive boyfriend, unless she’s thinking of some other Terezi.

Also, as someone who was the treasurer of a college anime club despite not liking anime, I can confirm that Rose has some very bad news indeed.

ROSE: Where shall our allegory begin? DIRK: Beg pardon. ROSE: Oh come on. The cave? ROSE: I have to say I’m a little disappointed in you. Three years, and not once did I witness you replacing any parts of the ship. ROSE: How are we to jerk ourselves off philosophically if you don’t lean into your clumsy allusions? DIRK: It's a fair question. DIRK: But since the name you suggested was nothing more than a very juvenile play on words, I can’t say you’ve got much ground to stand on. ROSE: What’s juvenile about The Kant? DIRK: Nothing. DIRK: At least, not when you say it. ROSE: It’s not my fault you sound like a gay cowboy. DIRK: Sigh.

See, this is what the epilogues were missing! Bantz! Rose was practically comatose for the Meat epilogues, so it’s good to see her back. Maybe one day we’ll get Jade back, too.

Who the fuck is this? This isn’t Dirk narrating, it’s black text. Is this the same person who was narrating the last chapter with Calliope? That narrator didn’t address the audience like this.

Dirk is naming the new planet “Deltritus”, which is a Homestucky portmanteau of Delta (As in “D”; It’s the fourth SBURB planet), and detritus. Kind of an insulting name, honestly. If this planet has SBURB on it, doesn’t that imply it’s inhabited? Do the locals not have a name for it?

DIRK: The point is, we will be building intelligent life on this planet from scratch. That was one of our key mistakes with Earth C. We should have started our guidance from the very beginning, instead of letting it grow organically in our image.

Oh, okay, guess not.

ROSE: Our own world was abandoned by its gods. Or, I suppose, its gods never reached it.

I’d actually really love to see an AU where there trolls made it, and Vriska and Aradia guided the human race as immortal gods. Rose is right that it probably would’ve been way worse, especially given how the Alpha Earth went.

I’m deeply curious about who this narrator is, who speaks in a neutral black text and uses more casual language than Dirk or Calliope. Is this Ultimate Dave, maybe? It sounds more like Dave than anyone else. But how?

Oops, I was wrong. It was Dirk, all along. Well I guess you’ve made a monkey - yes you’ve finally made a monkey - you’ve finally made a monkey out of me.

Oh, that’s actually cool! Rose and Dirk are going to create their own species and let them compete to play the game!

ROSE: There's something so delicious about the two of us being the ones to populate an entire planet from scratch. ROSE: The irony doesn't get much sweeter.

“From scratch”, you say?

DIRK: Next step is adding mutations. DIRK: We can use any old shit for this. Literally any captchalogueable object can be added into the mix by inserting its card into one of the slots here.

So, they each clone themselves, and throw random items in the pot to basically alchemize a new species, the way they used to make weapons? The potential for absurdity here is immense, as is the potential for crimes against god.

ROSE: It's amazing what pieces of inconsequential information your mind can recall at a moment's notice, a whole decade after they were last relevant or interesting to anyone. ROSE: ... ROSE: I think I missed this.

I did, too. Behind all the angst and the melancholy and the sci-fi adventures, Homestuck is a profoundly stupid comic and I’m unironically glad they’re remembering it, and bringing back some of the fun of creation.This is a surprisingly impactful line.

Ed....ward......

Incredible. This is all sorts of fucked up and I love it.

Oh god, Dirk is going to make Cherubs and Rose is going to make Squiddles and the long-memed 48-player Squiddle session is actually going to happen, isn’t it?

Edit: Any item that can be captachlouged can be made part of the species, and that includes John’s dead body that’s currently burning a hole in Terezi’s inventory. So Karkat’s shitty breeding chart from Act 5 can come true after all.

#Homestuck #Homestuck 2 #homestuck 2 liveblog

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mw-moriearty · 4 years

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Superman III is an Anti-Capitalist Parable and Way Ahead of its Time

No seriously. Here’s the skinny.

Superman III came out in ‘83 and was directed by Richard Lester, who also directed the markedly inferior theatrical cut of Superman II three years earlier. Lester had a very different approach to the Superman series than his predecessor, Richard Donner: he insisted, ostensibly at the studio’s urging, on taking the series in a more camp comedy direction rather than the Old Hollywood epic movie tone Donner brought to the table. It makes sense, then, that audiences would push back against the goofier, lower-stakes tone of III. They were used to the (comparatively) operatic tone of the original Superman and, to a lesser extent, its sequel.

Superman III was a financial success, but it was negatively received by audiences and by critics, a negative reception that helped send the follow-ups Supergirl and Superman IV: A Quest for Peace to the bottom of the trash heap (not that they needed much help).

But, unlike those two installments, Superman III, when watched today with an unbiased eye, holds up much better than its reputation would suggest. The emphasized comedic undertones don’t stand out so much in this era of light, bantery Marvel films.

And, what’s more, Superman III is probably one of the most plainly anti-capitalist superhero movies of all time. Its maybe not “woke,” but its pretty damn close.

At the core of the film, and perhaps its most controversial element, is the comic relief character played by comedian Richard Pryor. Pryor’s character in Superman III may not be the most nuanced character of color in film, but he is also certainly not the Jar Jar Binks minstrel clown some make him out to be. What he is, is a naturally-gifted computer programmer so brilliant that he is able to hack into a government weather-controlling satellite while completely blitzed and effortlessly design a supercomputer so sophisticated it gains self-awareness. It is obvious the only reason that he lives on unemployment and can’t keep a job rather than being the next Bill Gates and giving the millionaire villain orders is the deep institutional racism upon which capitalism is founded.

The film is well aware of this racism, highlighting it in ways both big and small. Pryor is blackmailed into serving the rich white Trump-esque antagonist, played by Robert Vaughn, after being forced by his ridiculously small paycheck to commit embezzlement (the only victim of which being Vaughn himself, who is so dripping with surplus wealth that he has an artificial ski slope on the roof of his skyscraper). Their first interaction is full of condescending microaggressions on Vaughn’s part, such as cringe-inducingly calling Pryor “my man” in a manner that brings to mind the dad in Get Out.

When Pryor travels to Smallville, Kansas later in the film, he is visibly aghast at how eerily lily-white the whole place is, particularly staring in horror at a trio of porcelain-tinted mannequins in a store window. I’m sure his discomfort would be echoed by many black men taking their first step in rural southern America. Later, to infiltrate one of the businesses that he plans to hack in the small town, Pryor wears one of the awful suits worn by the aforementioned dummies and puts on an affected “white voice” to earn the trust of the drunken redneck that watches the place at night, a fitting commentary on how black men and women are expected to homogenize and “act white” to be above suspicion in white America.

And what happens when Pryor convinces Vaughn to give him the resources to construct his incredible supercomputer? Why, Vaughn and his sister appropriate it for themselves and put its unique capabilities to nefarious ends, shutting Pryor out of any control of his baby and leaving him out in the cold.

Pryor is much more than a victim through all of this, however. I already mentioned how he took the initiative to bolster his paltry computer programmer’s paycheck by using a clever scheme to embezzle from his greedy millionaire boss. He also doesn’t let said boss kick him around, either. Though his circumstances leave him with little choice but to be a cohort in Vaughn’s schemes, when push comes to shove, he stands up for himself. He refuses to allow Vaughn’s order for complete control of the oil tankers to be irreversible, he fights for his fair cut of the loot when Vaughn starts profiting off of his brilliance, and in the end he stands by Superman against his bourgeoisie bosses. He even saves Superman’s life on multiple occasions, using both his computer smarts and eventually a fire ax to come to the big guy’s rescue.

Given that Pryor has at least as much screen time as Supes throughout the picture, one is left wondering, who’s the real hero here? Why, its the guy running around in the frilly pink tablecloth, of course!

And Pryor’s not the only example of a downtrodden minority not being allowed to live to their full potential in a white supremacist patriarchal capitalist society. Perhaps the most interesting character in the film is the villain’s girlfriend, who is initially presented as a vapid, gold-digging bimbo until we learn that this is all an act on her part and she actually is a computer-wise, philosophy-reading secret genius herself. She only plays the part of the brainless trophy girl because life has left her few other options. It is a very fun subversion of the typical villain-moll dynamic, and it is a shame we don’t get more of this character, though she like Pryor is ultimately disturbed by Vaughn’s increasingly villainous actions and bails on him in the end.

But lets talk about Vaughn’s villain, and how he’s emblematic of the film’s ideas on rich white privilege as a whole. This is a guy who is so used to getting everything he wants that he sics a freaking hurricane on Colombia just because the country is competing with him in the coffee export industry. If that ain’t capitalism at its finest. He even repeats the tired adage “it is not enough that I succeed, others must fail,” misattributing it to Genghis Khan like an idiot. I mean seriously, who does this sound like?

This is the guy who gives us probably the most immortal line from the whole movie.

And that’s only the tip of the white entitlement iceberg. There’s also the running joke of the old white couple who win the Daily Planet’s vacation lottery and get sent off to Colombia, where we are treated to the wife saying things like, “look dear, a native wedding!” Cut to the most conventional looking church wedding ever. After this parody of cultural voyeurism, we have the couple later threatening to SUE Daily Planet Editor-in-Chief Perry White because A HURRICANE RUINED THEIR VACATION. What a couple of Karens.

The whole film is about the struggle between the working class and the rich. I’ll paraphrase one of the Smallville locals who, after seeing the chaos caused by the gasoline shortage brought about by Vaughn’s forced oil monopoly, says “I don’t know what’s going on, but I guarantee you, someone’s getting rich off of it. Someone’s always getting rich off of it.”

Oh yeah, and Superman is in this movie too a little. There’s a plot wherein Vaughn tries to synthesize an artificial kryptonite in an effort to kill Superman and prevent him from foiling his dastardly deeds. But, this being a kryptonite forged in the capitalist machine, its a lazy, half-assed copy that doesn’t even work right (leading to the above line).

That doesn’t mean that the kryptonite has no effect, though. Indeed, the symptoms of this knockoff kryptonite are fascinatingly similar to the effects of living under the crushing wheels of the capitalist regime.

We actually see Superman, through this physical manifestation of the exertion of capitalist oppression, deteriorate into a selfish, depressed, bitter shadow of his usual self. As this happens, the colors of his costume subtly grown more dark, drab, and dingy. Superman becomes concerned only with doing what is best for himself without regard to anyone else, giving up the whole “saving people” thing and even letting himself be coerced by the moll into ripping a giant hole into an oil tanker in exchange for a little nookie (the subsequent disturbing image of a massive oil spill creeping across the surface of the ocean is maybe the film showing its hand a little bit). Many socialist and anarchist thinkers have raised the thought that this exact selfish mindset is the natural effect of being socialized in a capitalist society.

Let’s be clear, this isn’t just “evil Superman”. This is Superman so crushed by self-loathing and the futility of his actions that at the lowest point in his decline we see him looking like this:

Indeed, this sad, alcoholic Superman very deliberately mirrors another character in the film: the aforementioned drunken yokel, who is also the former star quarterback of Clark Kent’s high school graduating class. This is a character who found, after graduating, that his celebrity status in school translated to nothing in the adult world, leaving him woefully unprepared for a real life where he is a functional nobody. Cue binge-drinking and pining for the glory days.

This all culminates in the movie’s most iconic scene, wherein Superman crash-lands in a junkyard and splits into two separate individuals: the above Superdick, and plain old Clark Kent. They then proceed to beat the shit out of each other.

Obviously, we aren’t meant to read this scene as literal; it isn’t actually, physically happening. It is a clever visualization of the internal struggle between the character’s two halves: Clark and Superman.

In fact, this very conflict is the heart of Superman’s story throughout the picture. This is examined in the form of Clark’s re-kindled relationship with childhood sweetheart Lana Lang. After the always tragic will-they-won’t-they of Superman and Lois, Clark and Lana’s romance is refreshingly positive and healthy. The obvious reason for this is that, unlike Lois, Lana isn’t just interested in the Superman persona. She loves Clark for Clark. He can be himself around her. Indeed, any romantic incursions between Superman in costume and Lana are portrayed as downright toxic, as in the unsettlingly realistic scene where Superman, first beginning to feel the effects of the faux kryptonite, makes several forceful, sexually aggressive advances on Lana in her own home. The obvious fear and discomfort on Lana’s face during this scene is incredibly telling. She isn’t interested in an inhumanly privileged, aggressive thug in spandex. She likes Clark Kent, the regular guy.

So it is no accident that in this climactic junkyard scene, Clark comes to represent the character’s “good side” and Superman the “bad”. Because this is not simply a struggle between Superman’s good and bad halves, it is a struggle between Clark Kent, the spectacularly unspectacular working man, and Superman, the ridiculously naturally privileged enforcer of statist status quo. Proletariat vs. bourgeoisie. And Clark Kent, the proletariat revolutionary fighting his way out of the bourgeois Superdick’s corruption, wins.

Not that Superman then becomes a perfect champion of the working class for the rest of the film. He does defeat Vaughnald Trump and blow up the evil computer, but he also remains something of a parody of typical movie “white savior” figures. This is mostly clearly shown in the denouement where Superman, obviously thinking he is providing some great act of charity, drops Richard Pryor’s character off at a dirty coal pit far from his home and recommends him for an entry-level computer job there. Pryor understandably decides he’d rather not slave in a coal mine in the middle of nowhere for the rest of his life, and chooses instead to walk the nine miles to the nearest bus station. There is also the final scene where Superman (who in evil mode had straightened the Leaning Tower of Pisa earlier in the film in an extreme act of pettiness) returns to Italy and “fixes” the tower, smiling and waving in smug self-satisfaction at the locals below, oblivious to the poor souvenir salesman who has just finished making his setting up his new display of now-straight replica towers.

tl;dr, I think that Superman III deserves reevaluation not as the moment where the Superman franchise began its descent into crappery, but instead as a flawed but biting satire on privilege and capitalist corruption in America.

That’s my two cents.

#superman #superman 3 #richard donner #richard lester #christoper reeve #capitalism #blm #fuck capitalism #Donald Trump #richard pryor #movie review #blog post #white privilege #socialism #anarchy #my two cents #tldr

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sailor-cresselia · 5 years

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Zi-O 45: “THIS WENT FROM COOL TO HOLY SHIT REAL FAST.”

Last time: Swartz became Another Decade, and summoned a whole bunch of Dark Movie Riders, who proceeded to start kicking Sougo and Geiz’s butts.

Then G4 pulled out a missile launcher.

This time? Who knows, it’s Zi-O.

(Please enjoy my 10-page liveblog, with heavy Drive and Double fangirling, and my love of continuity nods.)

––––

So, yeah, G4 firing missiles at the boys! Fortunately, Woz has decided to skip the time freeze part of his recap, and says… basically what I just said, before grabbing Sougo and Geiz with his scarf and teleporting the three of them out of there.

Then we go into the Recap Vault, where he reminds us about Miharu showing up, and his intention to bring Geiz and Tsukuyomi back.

Woz comments that ‘it’s almost time for them to say goodbye.’

We go DIRECTLY into the credits from there, not even a minute into the episode.

––––

Oof. The episode proper starts with the four lads – Sougo, Geiz, Woz, and Heure (who I’d forgotten was Also There) walking along the river/drainage basin. Sougo comments that he can’t believe that Swartz’s – no, Another Decade’s – power is to bring in other Riders.

Geiz snaps, practically slamming Heure into the railing, saying that he’d tricked them – Hora was Another Drive, so Heure must have been lying the entire time.

Heure’s panicking as soon as Geiz turns on him – he didn’t know, he really didn’t – but Geiz, being Geiz, doesn’t listen. He tells Heure to get out of there before he really snaps and beats him up – so Heure all but runs off, plainly scared and confused.

Sougo calls Geiz out. Heure didn’t know, he’s changed since Swartz turned on him, after all, and they were starting to work together.

Geiz, being Geiz, says that people don’t change so easily, pointing out that Heure’s usual MO is manipulating people. He does have a point, but he slips up when he says that an enemy is always an enemy.

Sougo doesn’t look hurt by this. Just disappointed. What did Geiz come back here for, anyway?

To defeat Oma Zi-O before he could become Oma Zi-O.

Here’s where Sougo gets angry. Really, truly angry. If people never change, there’s no way they can make a better future.

Geiz points out, growing increasingly furious, that it’s Sougo who destroyed the future, that it’s his fault in the first place.

I don’t like the look on Sougo’s face right now. He says that’s the future him, that since it’s the future, they can still change it in the now. I’m… not sure I want to know what Sougo’s thinking of for ‘changing the future,’ because he looks frustratedly depressed.

Geiz questions what the hell Sougo could know, he has no idea what it’s like for people in that future.

Sougo gets quiet, saying that Geiz is right, he doesn’t know, and walks off.

Woz has watched both of these exchanges from the side, and sighs as he watches Sougo walk off.

Geiz just looks down.

––––

We come to Heure, hiding by an abandoned building, when Hora approaches. Startled, Heure yells for her to stay away. She’s an Another Rider, isn’t she?

Hora doesn’t seem to have any idea what he’s talking about.

Starting to freak out, Heure thinks. Maybe – maybe the Another Rider was just using her as a disguise, to throw him off balance. She tries to come over to him, presumably to calm him down, but he fully flips, saying that she still might be that Another Rider, and runs off, uncharacteristically clumsily.

Hora just looks confused, and maybe a little sad. It’s hard to say with her – she’s always kept her emotions pretty hidden, and does have a history of manipulating people, even more so than Heure. INCLUDING Heure, actually, given her actions during the second part of the Kikai arc.

––––

Sougo’s walking down those stairs we see so often, when a former classmate shows up, saying it’s been a long time. I think we’re supposed to know him, his name’s Owada, and he’s actually excited to see Sougo. He’s a pro gamer, and is participating in a tournament that will let him represent Japan…

Oh, hang on, is this the classmate from the Ex-Aid arc?

Yes, yes he is! Nice continuity nod, there!

Anyway, after briefly asking why Sougo’s so beat up – which Sougo brushes off, saying he’s fine – he asks Sougo to come watch him play, completely disregarding Sougo’s protests of it not being a good time for that.

––––

Heure’s running, finding himself at one of those abandoned factories, when Hora appears from inside one. She’s got some bad news. This is where he’s going to die. Pulling out the Another Drive watch, she transforms.

I appreciate the touch with the transformation including the wheel images from above and below coming to form the armor, and including Shinnosuke’s little post-transformation side-lean.

Running, Heure tries to use his time stop, but Another Drive’s faster, and beats him to the punch by activating Slowdown. She starts wailing on him, punches to the gut, backhanding him in the face, and then throwing him bodily towards a stack of barrels and crates, cancelling the slowdown just in time for him to impact at full speed.

Hora calls Heure’s name, running up to them. She sounds worried for him! Yay! But also there’s still an Another Drive, saying that ‘we finally meet… me.’

Hora tries to use her time powers – tries, clenching her fist and grimacing as she throws her hand out. Nothing happens.

She’s clearly been trying to do this for a while, too. There are numerous indents on her palm, where her nails have dug in over and over. Too many to just have been from this one time.

Another Drive zooms over, and hoists Hora by the neck, lifting her from the ground.

Hora asks – struggling – what they are.

The answer… they’re the Paradox Roidmude.

To which I, a Drive fan, have a general reaction of NOPE NO NUH-UH I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!

For those who didn’t watch Drive, or didn’t watch it’s movies, Paradox, or Roidmude 108, was the villain of “Kamen Rider Drive: Surprise Future”, Drive’s summer movie, who basically wanted to stop the world. Forever. A permanent Global Freeze, and he tried to do it by… what was it again? OH RIGHT. By coming back in time from 2035! SO, YAY! MORE TIME TRAVEL SHENANIGANS!

Listen, Surprise Future is a great movie, and I highly recommend it. Also, its ending theme, “re-ray”, is amazing.

Anyway, Drive!Paradox transforms back into Hora’s appearance, notably using the original Roidmude transformation effects, instead of the Another Rider ones. They have wonderful news. Hora’s going to disappear, and they’ll become the real one. Hora’s lost her powers, so it’s not like she needs to exist.

I really appreciate both of these nods, actually. The fact that a Roidmude is using a combination of their own native abilities and the Another Rider ones, and the acknowledgment that they copy people – right down to their character tics and habits. Medic kept her human’s ballet, Brain held onto that handkerchief for the majority of the season, just out of habit, and Paradox… this time around, they’ve picked up Hora’s old ‘catchphrase.’ Remember, when Hora made Another Riders, she did offer a choice, saying that she had bad news, but also good news.

So yeah, nice continuity nods they’ve got going there.

Oh, right, the show.

Anyway, Hora’s being lifted by her neck, struggling to breath. Paradox changes back to Another Drive – this time with the Another Rider effects – and starts laughing. Heure is terrified, and probably feels really bad about suspecting Hora now. Not that I can blame him on either front, but still.

A green-and-purple fist punches Another Drive away from Hora.

Kamen Rider Woz, in Ginga form.

––––

Over at 9-to-5, I realize that the logo isn’t just a pendulum clock, but the hands also looks a bit like a pair of glasses.

Geiz walks in to a darkened shop, Tsukuyomi sitting there, stoic. He comments that she’s back.

So, she has been gone since the end of the last arc, then? For the last month? Because we do get confirmation that it’s been a month – that giant gear-clock on the back wall also has a calendar function, which says it’s July 23. Thus, we know two things. First, there has been a time skip since the Another Den-O and Zi-O II arcs. Second, that the previous episode probably took place over the course of a few days, since July 23 is a Tuesday. Most episodes take place around Sunday or so, depending on if the show involves school or not, which does throw a bit of a wrench in that.

Anyway, I got distracted. Tsukuyomi tells Geiz that she met Miharu, and that if they stay here in 2019, they’ll never make the future that they wanted.

Geiz agrees. They shouldn’t have come here in the first place, all they did was run away from their own issues.

This scene has no background music at all, just the pair of them talking, and the ticking of clocks in the background, growing louder as the scene goes on, and ending with one decisive ‘tick’ as Geiz turns to the camera, lit from behind by the window, saying they should go back to their own era.

––––

Turns out Owada’s game tournament is Tekken. Again. Seriously, can they not get Namco to let them use at least one of the other properties, or is this the only one they want to get the rights for? Ah well, it’s more appropriate for this guy than it was for Tsutomu back in Hibiki arc, since Owada was from Ex-Aid’s arc, and Tekken played a role in the backstory there.

Unfortunately, he lost. Really badly.

Sougo tries to talk to him as they head out, but Owada’s not having it, telling Sougo to shut up and shoving him away before running.

Before running headlong into Swartz, that is. Who says something about making Owada’s own world.

He then proceeds to summon what look like tendrils of that ripple texture, which come out of the ground, latching onto Owada before surrounding him in an orb, which then shrinks down into a small ball. We can see an image of him gaming in it, before Sougo runs up, asking what Swartz did.

Swartz, being Swartz, doesn’t answer, simply saying that he has an interesting game for Sougo. The ball spins into a dimensional wall, which passes backward…

And leaves someone else in it’s wake.

Someone who seems upset at being brought here, saying that he’d thought he’d met a proper death, while implying that it’s not the first time this has happened.

Katsumi Daido. Kamen Rider Eternal.

He’s going to give Sougo a taste of hell.

To which I, a Double fan, have a general reaction of NOPE NO NUH-UH I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!

For those who didn’t watch Double, or didn’t watch it’s movies, Daidou was the villain of “Kamen Rider W Forever: A to Z/The Gaia Memories of Fate”, Double’s summer movie, who was basically The Worst and tried to turn everyone in the city of Fuuto into ‘Necro-overs.’ Basically, he died, and his mother brought him back to life as… technically not a zombie, but he’s basically undead, and can’t be re-killed by normal means. He came back a little crazy. (Also, no, I don’t mean undead in the Blade sense, I mean the resurrected dead person sense.)

Also, his actor, Mitsuru Matsuoka, did the ending song for that movie, “W”… which is not nearly as good as the five songs he did for Drive, its movies, and specials, including the earlier mentioned “re-ray.”

Fun times!

Eternal is a great suit, with the exception of that stupid trash-bag cape, which I hope he gets rid of at some point in this episode.

…Sougo why are you in BASE FORM?! This guy was summoned here by Swartz, and your track record against other Kamen Riders as base Zi-O is not good, to put it lightly.

Like, literally the only Rider he’s come out on top against as original flavor Zi-O is Geiz.

Ohh, but I do love that they used the old Gaia Memory sound effects, driver and all. And there’s the movie-and-special variant of the transformations! I mean, transformations in W are always a treat, but in bigger-budget productions, they have this effect where during the standby, the icon for the Gaia Memory in use stays visible, and circles of energy in the Memories respective color radiate outward from the driver. It’s always a treat to see. Also, kudos for how whenever Eternal lands a direct hit, there’s those blue flames coming from where he connects.

––––

At 9-to-5, still in the dark, Geiz takes Tsukuyomi’s arm, saying that they’re going home together. He’s rushing, as if he’s well aware that waiting will kill off his resolve. Again.

But Miharu shows up, telling them that together isn’t an option. They’re from different timelines, after all. They’re going to different places.

Geiz sounds dejected as he remembers that. They didn’t know that until a month ago, after all, so it stands to reason that he’d forget. He takes off.

When he’s gone, Tsukuyomi says that… yes, Miharu’s right, but could she have just a little more time? They’d only gotten hope once they met Sougo, so-

Miharu stops her. That hope is for Sougo and the others. Miharu’s not wrong – Tsukuyomi is from a different branch, while Geiz is from Sougo’s. But here’s the thing. All of Tsukuyomi’s memories? They’re all from that same timeline as Geiz. She doesn’t remember her original home at all; the person she is now is entirely from the timeline where Oma Zi-O took over. She only found any of this out a month ago. There’s no way she could be used to it.

Miharu, awkwardly, says that they should probably go get her powers back from Swartz, and that he’ll help her with that.

––––

Back to the Woz Versus Another Drive fight!

Wherein Another Drive activates Slowdown – again – but Woz cancels it out on his own. How? Ginga Finaly is based on space, and things are weightless there – the gravity intensifying effect of slowdown can’t do jack to him. Also, he cancels it out for the rest of the area.

Another Drive is only slightly impressed, and proceeds to knock him off his feet by doing a sliding kick right into his legs. You know. Because car.

As they get up, that slowed down version of the Tridoron horn plays, and I get sad all over again.

Oh, uh, at this point, I should probably say why I’m using ‘they’ to refer to Another Drive/Paradox. See, Roidmudes technically don’t have genders. They normally use the pronouns of whoever they’ve copied. Right now, for Paradox, that’s Hora. However, the last time we saw Paradox, they were copying Tomari Eiji, aka Shinnosuke’s future son. So… it’s a tricky subject for me, so I’m erring on the side of caution and going gender-neutral with regards to Paradox. (Last episode, I had caught spoilers that Another Drive was ‘Hora’, so I tried to stay neutral through the liveblog because A; the Another Rider never spoke, so any mention of gender would be a spoiler in and of itself, and B; I wasn’t supposed to know that ‘Hora’ was the one behind the Watch, so I didn’t want to spoil that.)

Okay, fight time. As Another Drive is getting up, we hear an announcement. TYPHOON

Enter Geiz, in a nice mini fight sequence where both he and Paradox are moving fast enough that they leave afterimages. I mean, it’s pretty poorly green-screened in, but it’s a nice idea. With riders like Kabuto and Faiz around, it’s not hard to forget that one of Drive’s gimmicks is his speed. He doesn’t get to show it off that much on his own, so the fact they’re utilizing it here, even as an Another Rider copy, is cool. So was having the three of them team up in HeiGen Forever.

Heure’s surprised that Geiz is helping them – he’d just threatened Heure’s life, at most a few hours ago.

Geiz’s reply? He’s not fond of being rescued, or maybe just not fond of owing.

You know. The same thing Heure said last episode when he came in for the save when Geiz and Sougo were fighting Another Drive.

Geiz switches into Fury, and starts fighting again.

––––

Switching back over to Sougo Versus Eternal!

OH LOOK ETERNAL STILL HAS HIS KNIFE.

Sougo’s more worried about that wall behind them, which still shows Owada gaming, as Swartz watches on, smirking. However, someone else is watching. Namely, one Kadoya Tsukasa.

“Oh, so that’s what you’re doing with my power?”

Swartz doesn’t lose his signature smugness. He’s already got Tsukasa’s power, so there’s no way that he can interfere.

Unfortunately for Swartz, Decade-the-season never actually established what powers are Decade’s and what powers are Tsukasa’s. See… Tsukasa’s power? Is the fact he exists.

After all, those walls? He’s not the only one who’s been able to use them. In fact, he didn’t use them back in his season! He traveled through them on accident a few times, and never without pain when he was an adult. His younger sister could open them, and so could Narutaki, but Tsukasa? Nope. Not until his post-season appearances, same as Daiki.

So these? They aren’t tied to his being Decade at all.

(Same as Takeru’s psychic force-powers – those are inherited. That runs in his family, which handily explains how he was able to use them in Zi-O, whether he was in the camp that forgot being a rider or remembered. It was super unclear, after all. Those were not the ‘I know, right’ comments of someone who had no idea what it was like being a ghost.)

Anyway, Tsukasa takes the wall that Swartz was controlling, and moves it over himself and the Zi-O Versus Eternal grappling match, taking Sougo away with him.

––––

Tsukasa and Sougo are in the tournament room, where Owada just won the game, against an opponent with his face nearly blanked out.

Wait, won? Sougo’s so confused – he lost the match, why is he saying he won? He tries to talk sense into his friend, but then-

Time reverses, like a frames of film being played backward just a little too fast, the screen glitching slightly, as though it can’t keep up.

Sougo finds himself back next to Tsukasa, where Owada just won the game.

Tsukasa’s figured out what’s going on. Swartz has made little pocket ‘Another Worlds’ to put people in, reliving moments of ‘lost possibilities’ over and over again. Why? To be able to summon Dark Riders, like the one Sougo was just fighting.

In the reuglar world, he was defeated by Double. But in this world, he must have won.

––––

As Tsukasa is saying that this version of Eternal defeated Double, we cut back to the main universe, where Eternal looks… a bit confused as to where Sougo went. If not confused, exactly, then at least frustrated. Curious, maybe. Miharu steps into frame, clutching a brightly colored pair of boxers.

(Eiji, I know you were well meaning, but I think he took your advice a little too much to heart.)

There’s a medal-flip sound effect as Miharu reminds himself that he promised to protect everyone’s tomorrows. He transforms into Aqua, and goes on the offense.

––––

In Owada’s World, Tsukasa says it’s time to go, because their goal isn’t here. Sougo wants to save Owada, but apparently he can’t. So long as this world, on an infinite one-minute loop, exists, there’s no way to get him out.

––––

Back at the warehouse, Paradox makes me almost choke on my damned Twizzler when they stick out an arm and a FREAKING ANOTHER TRIDORON SHOWS UP.

Oh MAN, this thing is all pipes and clawed front and OH MAN YOU JUST BROUGHT A CAR TO A PERSON FIGHT.

Also, we see why they’re in one of the wide-open warehouses, because that gives enough space for the Another Tridon (again, WTF) to do drifts and turns and knock Woz and Geiz every which way.

We cut from the fight to Heure and Hora, her picking herself back up… with a lot more ease than should be possible from someone who was almost choked to death. Especially since Heure didn’t have that happen, and can barely support himself enough to sit up. She asks if he’s okay, to which he replies that the whole thing was a little too close for comfort.

“Oh. I’ll make this easy, then.” She takes him by the shoulder-

A dimensional wall opens, dropping Sougo off. His eyes widen in shock.

At the top of the stairs from earlier, Swartz grins.

Hora is kneeling next to Heure…

With a blade of red energy, longer than her torso, coming from her hand.

It’s jabbed through Heure’s chest.

THIS WENT FROM COOL TO HOLY SHIT REAL FAST.

As Hora pulls back, Heure can’t understand why she did this.

With that usual detached manner, she puts it simply. It’s nothing personal. It’s that they can’t live and escape from Swartz. Pulling his little hair decoration off – with a chunk of hair, presumably, because I’m pretty sure it was just beads and feathers on a string of hair – she says that the one to survive will be her. She walks off, letting Heure fall to the ground, struggling to breath and clutching his chest.

His very blood-stained chest.

Sougo shouts his name, running over, and holds Heure in his arms.

A brief moment later, Heure stops moving.

As Sougo screams for Heure, Paradox starts laughing madly, shoving Geiz and Woz away, saying that this is what they expect from them, from a better them.

Sougo is enraged. What the hell is so funny, why the hell are they laughing?!

(Okay, he doesn’t actually swear, but I’m pretty sure he would if he could get away with it.)

He enters Grand as he runs, and starts beating Another Drive.

––––

Eternal and Aqua are at the docks now. Good location choice for a water-based rider – although, apparently Eternal’s god-awful cape is actually useful for something, because he uses it to block the majority of the force behind the water attacks.

The self-proclaimed Grim Reaper says it’s party time – because Daido came back super crazy, okay? He’s not all there in his usual canon, much less here. Actually, he’s worse normally.

Thing is? Miharu’s not actually here to fight him, and proceeds to shoot an attack at Swartz, gripping him in… a fist and series of belts made of water.

OUR GOOD FUTURE BOY IS A WATER BENDER! I’M SO PROUD!

Here comes Tsukuyomi, to take her powers back. Swartz actually seems to have been caught off guard! That’s not like him.

That’s not like him at all.

Oh, RIGHT, Miharu, you’re still technically stuck fighting Katsumi, so, here ya go, one undead murder-man coming at you. Eternal actually says that the ‘party is getting watered down’, that’s not even a translation thing, he says ‘party’ in English, and I distinctly hear ‘mizu’, so he’s actually saying this, I can’t believe they went with that joke.

I also can’t believe that he’s dumb enough to throw himself and aqua into the water. You know. Aqua. A WATER-POWERED KAMEN RIDER.

And Miharu has a good line for him, too, after zipping around and punching him as Eternal tries to dodge. “I’m from the future, you’re just a ghost of the past!”

The rebuttal? “In the end, even the future becomes the past.”

WOW, these are some good lines here!

He proceeds to create a water vortex, because the Eternal skillset is undefined and overpowered, and throws the both of them back on land.

Swartz throws off his water-shackles and Tsukuyomi’s draining by transforming into Another Decade, knocking her down.

She struggles to get up as he approaches, chuckling menacingly, and Miharu calls her name. (Well, her former name. Her name is Tsukuyomi, please use it!)

––––

In the warehouse, Geiz and Woz are standing at a distance from the Grand Zi-O Versus Another Drive brawl. They. Uh. Well, they probably just don’t want to get in the way, right? They were just getting their butts handed to them on a platter, and Sougo’s really pissed off right now. So, it’s probably better to stay out of the way, right? Right.

Sougo summons Drive out of 2014, by slamming his fist onto the figure on his thigh. They proceed to wail on Another Drive some more, and…

Geiz leaves, with what seems to be a sigh before he turns and walks out.

Finish Time! Grand Zi-O!

SO WOW.

The finisher this time?

Summons the Tridoron, which circles around everyone, smashing the Another Tridoron to bits, before the finisher properly activates. The belt may be saying “All Twenty! Time Break!” but this? This is the Full Throttle: Speed finisher!

THIS is both Drive and Zi-O ricocheting off of the circling Tridoron, faster than can be followed, slamming into Another Drive over and over, before they merge together (!) for Zi-O to perform a one-man Rider Kick.

Another Drive starts to give off blue arcs of electricity, and the blocky lights of a Roidmude exploding, before reverting to Hora’s appearance, and then to Paradox’s evolved form, before their body goes up in an explosion. Two Roidmude cores emerge from that explosion, before going up themselves. 108… and 108.

Paradox only gained an evolved form after the version from 2035 literally merged with the version from 2015.

So, of course there were technically two Paradoxes for Swartz to bring in.

––––

Still in the warehouse, it’s later. Much later – the sun is going down, as judged by the fading light through the dirty windows. It was bright before.

Sougo drops to his knees next to Heure’s body, barely saying his name, his voice trembling.

A distance away, Woz – still transformed – watches.

––––

At the docks – also approaching sunset. Wow, that sure came on fast, didn’t it? Seeing as they’re right where they left off with the four-person fight.

Swartz – as Another Decade – basically hurls Tsukuyomi to the ground, with her rolling into a… partition? Mini-wall? What do you call the barrier between a green-space and a sidewalk? IDK, the curb section. Aqua can’t get to her, because Eternal’s keeping him busy. You know. With his KNIFE.

Swartz advances on Tsukuyomi, hand raised, but he’s knocked aside by Geiz, now in Revive Typhoon again.

“So, you came after all. I thought you would. Let’s make a world just for you.”

Swartz. Swartz, no. Don’t flick your hand like that. Don’t summon those dimension tendrils. You let Geiz out of that bubble right now, old man.

Don’t you spin that thing into forming a wall. Cut that out.

Don’t pull a familiar laughing figure through.

With a beret and some god-awful neon sunglasses.

Put that Hat Woz back where he came from or so help me-

SO HELP ME!

––––

The closing screen is… Huh. The Drive watch is front and center, with Revive Typhoon in the right corner… and the Eternal Gaia Memory in the lower left.

––––

Preveiw time says…

We’re getting a Woz Versus Woz fight, and it ought to be a bit less one-sided, now that they’ve both got drivers.

Eternal’s losing the cape for his party time – except it’s for the worse, because that’s a whole lot of Gaia Memories up in there. If I had to guess, I’d say… 26? One for each letter of the alphabet. Enough to set off his full power Maximum Drive – the “Never Ending Hell” Maximum Drive.

Yeah. Dude’s got issues.

There’s a sound clip of Geiz… shouting that he wants to make a new future with someone. Doesn’t say who, of course, because that would be even more spoilery than a preview usually is. Could be Tsukuyomi, could be Sougo, could be both.

The last sound clip is Sougo, saying that ‘it’s the king who makes the world a better place, it’s that kind of power!’

It’s played over shots of him down on the ground, in the rain, with Swartz standing over him. Sougo looks badly beaten up… and furious.

#kamen rider zi o #kamen rider decade #kamen rider drive #kamen rider w #kamen rider double #kamen rider ooo #sailorcressy says

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transkieran · 5 years

Text

anyway, guarma & colm-odriscoll-is-my-daddy (& friends) think abusive ships are a funny way to get under someone’s skin

JUST FYI: I woulda had this conversation in private, but @guarma keeps calling Erin a bitch with a god-complex, even though everything she accuses Erin of is something I did, and she refuses to acknowledge me. So no more private, she called me a pussy for not confronting her. Well here's the confront ig!

background context: people decided to start shitting on the Yehaw Function server again in another server (let’s say ‘A’ bc I do not wish to drag the owner into this, they were rarely online). @ssupeck21 thought it was perfectly fine to mock the gender and race of a two-spirited native trans guy. nice transphobia and racism there!

considering i remarked on it, they realized i knew him and suspected me of leaking the above screenshot to the YF server. i had already left this server at the end of february over several reasons, including erin’s server becoming my main one. i’m also reasonably sure i have mentioned no longer being in YF at some point. damage done: kate (guarma) and pongo ( @colm-odriscoll-is-my-daddy ) now think i’m “a spy” for YF. (ironic because @ssupeck21 let @jennyxbeans into erin’s server bc she was spying for jenn. and more irony later)

as proven in DM to someone later (oh no, a spied image?), they had the amazing idea to bait me and erin with something that is a massive trigger for me (bully/victim ships). some weirdness: by that time, i’d only made about 2 b/k posts on my blog, neither of which mentioned my trauma i’m pretty sure. erin meanwhile, wasn’t even in the original convi from the first screenshot, though she has mentioned she finds b/k gross.

so whilst this in its entirety is already immature in itself (really? you think someone is sending screenshots and wanna get ‘revenge’ when you constantly rely on getting screenshots yourself? yes i know someone leaked you screenshots of YF, kate). but also: for someone who talked about being abused and having anxiety, she should know better than use an abusive ship to get back at someone. because i’m 99% sure she knows b/k is a trigger for me; whilst not on my blog, i have had plenty of rants and vents in servers about how b/k is not good for my mental health and that it will make me panic.

conversation #1 (i do not have screenshots of this): someone asked what everyone’s ships are in rdr2. bill/kieran gets mentioned, at some point i put rooWut (a disgusted looking emote) and remark something about abusive gay ships being cute to them. it gets glossed over, i leave.

conversation #2. the conversation moves to the nsfw channel, where they pin the message in the above screenshot. ha ha , bully/victim ships are a funny joke! conversation moves on to arthur and other things until Pongo clearly feels like she wants to force a reaction out of me and/or erin. (living dead girl is erin, i am dan’s achy breaky heart).

at this point, my anxiety spikes and i put something along the lines of “my fist up your ass would look cute” in the vent chat of Erin’s server. NSFW with b/k is not good for me, at all. it made me flashback to something, i’m basically just trying to not have a panic attack. but ! ofc , why stop now.

pongo makes another comment, now not under a spoiler tag and clearly with the context of the DM to get another reaction out of me. erin puts a completely unrelated image to try and divert the conversation, because i’m like entirely losing it at this point---but kate and pongo think it’s hilarious to talk about actually shipping it and kate (micah bell’s dumb hair in the screenshots) is all “omg i wanna write a smut now for them”.

also: my nickname in this server includes ‘trans kieran’ at this point , either as just my url or like “lion ♡ trans kieran”. they all know i am a gay trans guy, even if some of them currently like to pretend they don’t know me. (hi, @morlawny who doesn’t even wanna say my name at this point despite being all nice in erin’s server.)

i can’t entirely remember my own message, nor do i have screenshots of it because i send it and left and they deleted it like straight after it seems (because an older screenshot, from the day itself, also didn’t have my message anymore). i left because at that point, i lost all ability to think straight. because someone can remark on b/k before and they’ll still be all “ha ha funny!”

at this point, in erin’s server, two things happen. one friend of kate, who isn’t in the server this happened in, asks if she ships bill/kieran and kate admits her plan to just trigger me. because of this, kate starts acting like the victim and making me out like the bad guy who’s shittalking her and refuses to talk to her--which, during a panic attack and with my feelings very clear, i don’t need to.

secondly, another friend of kate decides my trauma is funny and starts to send kate (on request) screenshots of the vent conversation in erin’s server, starting from the goddamn my fist up your ass comment. the conversation also includes details of my trauma. my trauma is being send around like gossip.

also this happens in the server i left and i get send it:

i dunno what planet anyone is living on but, apparently my melt down was only good for one thing: getting mocked. “kieran’s coochie” is transphobic as fuck when you’re laughing at a trans guy getting upset over bill/kieran. especially when it’s very clear i hc kieran as trans. yet, pongo, wolfy ( @soulheartthewolf ) and kate seem to think it’s fucking hilarious.

kate and pongo then try to play the “we were just joking!” card. when everyone i’ve had read those screenshots agrees nothing about it reads as a joke, and we’re now very sure they weren’t joking about, they were being vile and malicious. (but hey, what’s to expect from someone who says they’d fuck a fictional racist if he was real! that’s ... excusing racism, kate).

(guarma is micah bell? you mean my husband ;; pongo is arthur morgan is an incel. the other person is the artist who drew young micah, idk their url anymore)

“my mocking of the Bill/Kieran ship” I’m so sorry, Kate, but nothing about nsfw b/k and wanting to write a fic about it, reads as mocking. This entire “it’s just a joke!” doesn’t diminish the fact that you triggered a panic attack. Yes, I shittalked you, because I felt like it was goddamn deserved for "joking” about an abusive ship in a way that didn’t read as a joke. because after I left neither of you got the damn hint and just went straight for the transphobia. It’s not get together and hate guarma, it’s “lion has a panic attack and will actually react insanely aggressively about the things that upset him”. You can turn and twist this into you being the victim all you want, but you ain’t. You’re a pathetic example of a 19 year old who thinks it’s funny to trigger flashbacks and panic attacks. I didn’t talk to you, because at the time the only thing I would’ve probably said, which is also what I’m saying now, is: go shove an entire cactus up your ass, you pathetic cunt of a human being.

Leave Erin out of this, it’s goddamn hilarious you keep going after a cis bi woman instead of after me, a gay trans guy, and god I fucking wonder why.

You interact with people who think they can just be racist and transphobic towards anyone they like ( @ssupeck21 ), with people who’ll willing send you all the screenshots you want, with people who send anon hate ( @jennyxbeans ), you’re treating trauma and abuse like a joke and then have the gal to be all “i’d never because i have anxiety!” No. Own up to your shit.

(I could go on in this post about how she’s just as bad a shittalking, leaked screenshot-wanting piece of shit but hey, the post is very long already so whatever).

edit: i have deleted screenshot leaking accusations towards morlawny bc i can’t actually prove them but i’m keeping up the thing where you decided to be all nice to me in servers, but then turned around and were all “idk kate didn’t say any of that” (i literally know u were there for those conversations, your name in screenshots!) and tried to defend her constantly in a DM with someone.

#red dead redemption #guarma #userguarma #idk if she has a tag lmao #colm-odriscoll-is-my-daddy

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a-book-dragon · 5 years

Text

A Valvert fic

Ok.. This piece was quite hard. Please, I BEG YOU, don’t judge my style, English is not my native language though I try to improve every day by reading other people’s works. I write a lot better in my own, Bulgarian.

This is a Post-Seine fic; the characters areValjean, Javert, Cosette and Marius. I label it as fix-fic, a little fluff, a little hurt and comfort, much shipping.

There is no explicit violence or sex here. Only a kissing scene (my first one, wohoo!). So I would rate it “teen and up”.

It’s also the first gay relationship I’ve written (yay for awkward, hot, virgin, probably asexual, but defintely romantic old gay dudes!).

"He isn´t here... how strange", Jean Valjean thought to himself. He quickly got out, just in time to see a shadow disappear behind the corner. The man followed it carefully. He was dirty, exhausted and overwhelmed of all the emotions and dangers of the day, but he suspected that Javert was going to call reinforcements, arrest him and probably attack his home. He didn't care about himself, but Cosette, Toussaint and the rest of the inhabitants were also there. And he knew what Javert was capable of to fulfill the law.

Jean followed him to the bridge. There the other man stared in the river for a long time, entered the police office, went out again (alone, thanks God)! After staring in the river again, Javert suddenly stepped on the guardrail and jumped.

Jean Valjean was puzzled and shocked. But without hesitation, he ran under the bridge. If he jumped right from it, he would collapse hitting in the cold water. The man took off his coat and shoes and dove into the river. In the first moment he felt like all his blood vessels, muscles and bones were frozen. His heart started pumping and he had trouble breathing even before gulping water. It was a torture for his body to hold his head above the lightning-fast waves, let alone save another person.

When he had almost lost hope, Valjean noticed a big black thing (Javert!), grabbed him by the hand, summoned all of his strength and pulled him out of the whirlpool that was about to suck him in the deep. Luckily, he was near the other side of the river and in a desperate attempt caught at a stone of the bridge and climbed on hard ground, dragging the body of Javert. For a long moment, Valjean was just sitting there, coughing loads of water and thanking God, just like he had done earlier this long, long night.

It took him some time to remember that he had a dying man next to him and hurried to do CPR and loosen his clothes. Javert was still alive and breating, so Jean put his own coat on him, lifted him and headed home. All the hospitals were closed at the time, so he decided to bring him to his home. He also had to decide how to explain Cosette the unfortunate event.

"Cosette... I have no choice, I'll reunite her with that guy, Marius. I hope she won't forget me, a miserable man, whom she calls Father without him deserving it...".

These sad thoughts were interrupted by something even more depressing - the weight of the unconscious Javert and his own body, which already refused to function. Gosh, was he tired of carrying fainted guys around. The night wind was biting him, as he was soaked with water. Gladly, they were at the front door of his home. After stumbling against the door, forgetting to open it in the first moment, Valjean brought the body upstairs, entered his apartament silently and put Javert on his bed. He changed him in his own old clothes and put all the blankets he found over him. Then he made a big fire in the fireplace and moved the bed near it.

All of a sudden, he started trembling uncontrollably and collapsed on the ground, almost unconscious. He could only pull the carpet and wrap himself with it before he fell in a dreamless sleep.

…

- Papa! PAPA! - Cosette woke him up, banging on the door.

Gosh. He needed several seconds to remove the carpet, get off the floor (what was he doing there?) and hurry to open the door.

- Cosette, don't enter! - he shouted, got out and slammed it.

- Papa, you never oversleep and always look preppy - the girl, stylish even in her everyday dress, looked critically at the creased and still wet clothes her dad had slept in. – What’s up?

- Umm honey, I had lots of work to do and fell asleep in my chair. And my room is a mess...

- Shall I call Toussaint?

- No, no, I'll sort it out. – the old man cringed. – Isn't it time for you two to do the groceries? By the way, I assure you Marius is now safe in his home, though he has a serious injury. He will be very thankful if you sew some bandage for him.

- Oh yes! Can’t wait to help Marius! First gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, dear monsieur!

He smiled. He used to call her "dear mademoiselle" when she was young to boost her confidence when the girls in the convent bullied her for being ugly. He never understood them. His daughter was the most beautiful girl in the world!

"I'm really getting old, I shouldn't get lost in memories", when Valjean made sure the women were gone, he returned to his room. He was glad to see that Javert was better and his breathing and heartbeat were back to normal. Jean removed all the sharp objects from his sight (the man had tried to commit suicide, after all).

…

Javert opened his eyes while the other man was sitting on his chair with a book to fill his time waiting for him to wake up.

- What? Where am I? - he looked around in confusion.

Valjean peered above the book.

- Ah, at last! You are awake. Do you need anything?

- AAAARGHHHHHHH! - Javert tried to escape, but fell onto the floor, groaning in pain. He lifted his eyes, full of more hate than fear. - JEAN VALJEAN! I only wanted to die, but you´re here to torture me again!

- Stop. - Valjean said firmly, forcing him to go back to bed. - You will hurt yourself.

- Why would you even care - Javert hummed, letting Valjean put him in bed because he had no strength to do anything else. - In your eyes, I shall be a criminal. Like you were in mine.

- Were... well, I'm happy you won't arrest me. – Jean replied with a grin. – And whatever you’ve done, you’re a human in trouble. Isn't it enough? I was actually ready to get arrested. It was your right.

- First, I’m not a “human in trouble”. I am – was – completely capable, it was you who were creating me trouble. Second, stop pretending to be so freaking pure and shaming my own selfish ass! I refuse to talk to a weird person like you. Just give me a knife, ok? Or better, a gun.

- I have a better idea. – Valjean rolled his eyes. – Going to prepare some tea and food. Then I’ll decide what to do with you and how to explain Cosette everything.

- Just throw me in the river, where you took me from.

- I don’t think to do that. All lives are important and no matter if you see the meaning of yours, it has one. God has created humans like that.

- Except your life, right? You threw yourself in a river for a person who WANTED to die, you fake righteous shit with no self-respect!

Javert had no idea what he was saying - he had seen Jean doing lots of crazy and risky things, but he never could've known how the former convict’s memory always turned back to the person he was once. Back then, he was ready to kill, rape, steal, hurt, lie... And what he did was unforgivable. He totally deserved rotting in jail, but he would be more useful raising Cosette, helping the poor and saving people's lives. He hoped to wash away his crimes that way. But he knew he never could.

- You have no answer, your “morals” are so shallow!- Javert turned to the other side.

“Said the one who attempted to end his life because his value system failed him”, Valjean did his best to keep this to himself.

- Oh, I'm such an idiot! The food! – he facepalmed instead, ran to the kitchen and quickly prepared some sandwiches and tea. Brought them to Javert who reluctantly accepted to eat a bit.

Just after that Cosette and Toussaint returned with grocery baskets.

- Umm… I have to tell you what happened last night - Jean said to them after opening the door. – I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk. Then I saw a man in the river, near its side – he had probably fallen of some bridge. I took him here, he’s in my room and will probably stay there for some time before I take him to the hospital. Any objections?

- Of course not, papa! – Cosette smiled. – It’s great that you helped a person!

- He saved me – the girl jumped out of fright, hearing a hoarse voice. – This bastard risked his miserable life to take me out of the river.

Cosette, outraged (in the convent where she had grown saying words like “bastard” was a major sin), stormed into Valjean’s room where Javert was lying.

- How dare you insult my father? If what you’re saying is true, you better be thankful! He has always deserved better than he received, don’t make things worse!

- Young lady, you make me want to end my life even more – Javert rolled his eyes. – Could you please shut up and go play with your dolls?

- Javert, stop. – Valjean interfered, hiding his clenched fists in the pockets of his coat. – My daughter Cosette just loves me too much, she has done you no wrong.

- What an amusing couple are you two! I just have to insult one of you in front of the other and see when I’ll get killed.

- Well, you’re also much more amusing after “falling” in a river. You probably discovered your sense of humor there – Valjean knew this was passive-aggressive, but when it was about Cosette…

- Do you know each other from before? – the girl raised her eyebrow in suspicion.

- We were… coworkers once – this wasn’t a lie, right? When he was Monsieur Madeleine, Javert was his subordinate.

- Whatever, losers. Just let me sleep now. – Javert, who already didn’t care about his pride, image, laws and even life, now had let all his anger and frustration out in the form of sarcasm. Or at least Jean Valjean thought so.

- Geez, papa. I would punch this man, if he wasn’t sick.

- Annoying coworkers, they are everywhere – Jean shrugged.

- By the way, I’m going to prepare some bandage for Marius!

- I’m happy… You will see him soon – her dad had many feelings thinking of this particular moment, but happiness wasn’t one of them.

- Ok, see you at breakfast! – The teenager stormed to her room.

Jean used his time to call a doctor, who took Javert to the hospital. No more sarcasm! But at times he checked how the other man was going, despite of being physically and emotionally busy around Cosette and the wedding preparation.

SOME MONTHS LATER...

Jean Valjean turned back home, sat in his chair and desperatelly covered his face with hands. He wanted to cry, but had no more tears left. Every sign for Marius that he shall leave them alone, every "Mr. Jean" from his dear child Cosette, every refusal for any affection from him... it was killing him. He was doing it to himself, he knew. But who needed him, an old criminal, anymore? He had done his job. And deserved nothing else.

He felt an almost physical pain. The end was near... Then he heard loud banging on the door.

- Enter! - Valjean said.

And they entered. First - Cosette, then - Marius (both handcuffed) and lastly - Javert!

- What is the meaning of that? - Valjean felt as if he was dreaming.

- Papa! - Cosette started jumping around him like a girl. That long-forgotten word soothed the wounds of the old man's soul - You know what happened? Inspector Javert helped us research who had saved him, interrogated my terrible "keeper" Thénardier and all the evidences point to you! Now, inspector, can you remove the handcuffs so I can hug my father?

Javert did it with something that looked like a slight smile. Cosette didn’t seem to hate him anymore.

- Accept my apologies. You're a hero, Mr. Valjean - Marius was all red. – If only I could repay you…

- No problems! You're like my own son - Valjean said sincerely and tears filled his eyes. He was overwhelmed by emotion and unable for stopping them running down his cheeks.

- Oh, Papa! So glad we learned it now! - Cosette noticed them and hugged him. - Sorry for causing you so much pain! You stupid man! You should have told us the whole truth!

- One more month without you would kill him – Marius agreed.

- In reality, he caused the pain to himself, right? - Javert, who was just watching the scene up to now, interrupted them. – This is dumb, because “All lives are important. No matter if you see the meaning of yours, it has one.”

- You're right. I shall forget the past. Thank you, thank you very much! - Valjean stood up and shook Javert’s hand so tightly that he almost broke it.

- No porblems... friend - this word was new for Javert and he stumbled a little. He left the happy family in the room with a little smirk on his face. His first happy smile from years.

2 MONTHS LATER…

In the next 2 months, Javert had been visiting their house so often that he became a part of the family. A quiet and strict part, but still a part. Him and Jean Valjean had long conversations about politics, sociology, economy and law. For Valjean’s surprise, non-fanatic and non-suicidal Javert was a trustworthy and interesting person.

As for Cosette and Marius, they were still living their love bliss and were adorable in their naivety. The old men were often joking about them – good-intentionally, of course.

One evening, when everybody else was sleeping, they were sitting on the balcony, snacking on fruits, wine (and, of course, bread) and having a conversation about the smallest details of their past.

- Amongst the criminals, I was constantly beaten, because they hated my attitude. Once I scolded them to the police and then couldn’t move one week – Javert gulped a big mouthful of wine. – And the decent citizens never paid attention to me, for them I was no more important than a stray dog.

- Sounds terrible – Valjean shook his head and tapped Javert’s shoulder.

- Sorry, you don’t have to listen to my self – pity. I think I’m drunk…

- But you just drank one glass – Jean laughed.

- I have never drank. Probably once… I don’t remember. And what about you, Mr. Righteous? – Javert laughed hoarsely.

- I had to drink all the winters in prison, otherwise I would freeze.

- Really sorry for causing this to you…

- No problems. Now it’s time for you to go home.

- You’re right – Javert lifted himself from the chair, but staggered and convulsively caught to his friend’s collar to not fall on the ground. His breath stopped. Jean looked surprised – but not unpleasantly.

Heat raised to Javert’s head. He leaned forward until their faces were centimeters close. Jean Valjean was blushing hard and his heartbeat could be heard from a meter away. He hesitantly lifted his hand and ran his fingertips up to Javert´s neck. His hand was fiery hot, but it sent shivers down the other man´s spine. Then Valjean stood on his toes, being too short to do otherwise, and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Javert was hanging there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, grasping for air. Suddenly he grabbed a handful of Jean´s hair and pulled him into a passionate, devouring kiss.

The men didn´t realize how their hands twitched together.

A/N – Though society back then wasn’t tolerant to LGBT people, it was no problem for Jean Valjean and Javert, because they acted like friends or soulmates, loving and respecting each other most of the time, as most old, long-married happy couples do. Their time for mad, perfect love had already passed. Though Cosette suspected something, she just nodded and smiled, happy for her father.

#fanfiction #lesmis #les mis #les miserables #lesmiserables #jean valjean #javert #valjean #valvert #cosette #marius #marius pontmercy #shipping #fanfic #please don't kill me

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chezzkaa · 5 years

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Numb pt 28

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Lumberjack AU Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader WC: 3250+

Date posted: 8 Feb 2019

The morning is clumsy. Nonsensical in the early hours. A jumble of limbs and a knot of blankets trapped between far too many legs. Confusion fogging your mind as you draw in a heavy breathe, bringing with it a chill and the lingering scent of trees. Out of place, but not entirely unpleasant to a sleep ladened consciousness.

When your eyes peel open, the darkness of the room doesn’t quite fit with what you expect. Having anticipated light streaming through the windows of the lodge’s living room, your friends bundled together on the couch while the fire crumbles into ash with a gasp; the feeling of your own bed beneath you is disorientating. Acting like a puzzle piece you’re hammering too hard into a slot that it so obviously doesn’t fit, the cardboard corners starting to curl and warp with every frustrated fist you bring down on it. Convinced that somehow it ought to make sense. That the more you hit it the more likely it is to become a functional, rational part of reality.

It’s cold. Uncomfortably so. Stinging your front and nagging at your fingertips. Tracing the curve of your calves and scampering behind your knees. The covers do very little to retain the warmth you sorely try to hold on to, certain it had surrounded you not long ago. Confused, more than anything. Concern drunk and stumbling in the back of your mind.

It takes a moment to register the storm outside. Snow wailing at the windows as it slowly starts to die down, bitter temperatures dwindling in their efforts to claw at the glass. If you focus, you can almost see a hint of colour returning to the world. Tainting the darkness with muddy peaches and soft vermillion dipped in the remnants of the night.

The outside world shares your shudder, shoulders sinking further into the blankets and knees clattering against a pair you hadn’t expected. Equally icy, tucked loosely into your pocket of warmth. Groggy and dazed, you blink dumbly from a sleep you’re certain you shouldn’t have roused from. Forcing your thoughts into some semblance of consciousness.

Across from you, however, is a sight that settles your confusion. Something that finally makes sense to your sluggish mind. Ryan slumbers peacefully, his face relaxed and gentle while honey golden hair splays over the pillows. Caught in the warm silvers of the moonlight with only the word ethereal coming remotely close to describing his softness.

It takes a little longer than you’d like to admit, staring at him as though it were the last time, but you eventually realise that he must have stirred at some point and carried you to bed.

Reaching out, your fingers run through the loose strands hooding his forehead, pushing them away. Again and again, your fingertips brushing him further into a heavy sleep and warming his frigid skin.

The marks lining your skin almost glow in the moonlight, flickering with every motion. The remains of ink mask the scabbed skin that had resulted from when you’d pushed the pen nib down too hard in the early hours of that terrifying morning, marks residing quite happily beneath the runes carved into your hands. Faded but most certainly there. Glaringly so. Littering your body like twirls of wood shavings, charred and fragile. Curling like vices around your wrists, and snaking up your forearms.

The pale, ghostly scars burn guiltily when you take them in through the darkness. Protective charms humming with the palm you place on Ryan, willing for them to transfer to him, too. Hoping that whatever is left of the magic, of your energy, will embrace him the same way you do.

An arm you hadn’t noticed tightens around you, dragging you closer until your face presses into his cool chest. You want to complain, to shove him away and grumble about the cold biting your cheek, but you find yourself settling. Holding your hands to your chest, you nuzzle into him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before your eyes slide shut.

Ryan’s sleepy hums of comfort are the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” Michael insists over breakfast, your phone pressed to your ear and his voice barely audible over the loud ordeal every morning has become. Plates clatter, the kitchen buzzing with caffeine fuelled animation.

“You’re gonna wanna get down here,” he presses further, voice rising with excitement, “we got the lab reports back for the markings. This is your baby, too.”

“Funny,” you scoff, dodging the loaf of bread Alfredo hurls to Trevor, Lauren getting caught in the fray. “Last I checked, I wasn’t a Mother or a detective.”

From the corner of your eye you notice Ryan’s eyebrow quirk. He does his best to seem like he isn’t listening, taking his time while buttering the same piece of toast he’s been working on for a few minutes. His expression flickers, something problematic folding his features for a moment before he glowers at his toast.

“You still upset about that?” You can practically hear the scrunched expression Michael pulls on the other end of the phone, his tone dismissive. “Don’t worry about that fuck or any of the bull shit he says. Detective Dooley isn’t in today, so you don’t have to worry about him. Besides, right now you’re a better cop than he is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Michael.” You let off a nervous laugh, watching Ryan shake himself and decide that he should probably pretend to be focused on the second slice of toast. He spreads the button, oblivious to how clear it is that he’s let his breakfast go cold. Lauren eyes him, looking offended.

Michael makes a noise somewhere in the back of his throat. “Well, I would. You’ve done more for this case than that obsessive asshole has in the past few weeks.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He lets out a sigh, looking for the words you might not want, but need to hear. “Look, Y/N… He’s a good guy, you already know that. He was doing his job and just got a little, err, god what’s the word that I’m looking for here?”

“Side tracked?” you offer.

“I was gonna say that he just got a little too far up his own ass,” Michael teases, his tone surprisingly soft. You sink into the comfort it brings, relief buzzing through the phone line. “But sidetracked is a good one, too. He’ll come around, you just gotta give him time. He’s been on the same line of thinking for so long, it’ll take a while for him to readjust. While he’s managing, we just have to pick up the slack until he catches up.”

You hum in response, taking a moment to sip on your tea. “Do you really need me there?”

“Need and want are two different things.”

“Oh, so you want me there?”

“Ew. Fuck no,” Michael rejects with more cheek than what’s good for him, “but we do actually need you here. Considering we’re running with a theory you helped work out, it’ll be good for everyone if the mastermind to be in on all the information.”

You smile, watching the domestic life unfolding in your kitchen, willing the images of icy fingers and cold, tiny bodies from your mind. You cling to the warmth in front of you, hoping to stay in the moment. Dragging it out for as long as you can, as though it’ll keep the world and it’s incessant twitching still. That the burning itch at the base of your skull will cease.

“Alright,” you finally concede with another long sip of tea, accepting the plate of cold toast that Ryan sheepishly hands to you, “I’ll head over in 30 or so. Don’t start without me, yeah?”

Michael chuckles, yelling something to another officer while you drown your waiting breath in your tea. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Y/N. We’re a team.”

You grin, picking up a slice and taking a large bite. “Let’s get this bread.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You grimace, the feeling of unmelted butter greasy against toast crumbs across your tongue. “You got pastries at work?”

“Of fucking course we do, we’re not animals. And don’t change the subject. You’re a fucking animal. No memeing in the precinct or I’ll arrest you.”

After ample testing against other animal patterns found in the area, in which the sampled material was applied to a multitude of claw/bite/other markings of both native and outside animals, all sampled markings are deemed to be unbiological in nature.

The plausibility of the samples being created by a creature as opposed to a hand held tool is noted to be unlikely and impossible.

No bear nor other known creature can be attributed to the patterns found on the Motbury properties.

You stare down at the report as relief washes over you. After having read the brief at least four or so times, you still can’t quite manage to take it all in. With a racing mind and a set of shoulders so determined to drop all of the tension you’d been carrying over the past few days, it takes the clap of Michael’s hand on your back to rouse you from the chaos inside your own head.

In regards to patterns and other factors, the most likely result is that these markings were created by a heavy tool with a sharp edge as opposed to an animal. A creature would be unable to achieve the paw splay needed to achieve the patterns observed. Yet to be determined, possible objects include, but are not limited to; axes, screwdrivers, shovel heads, etc. Further testing is required. The results of these further tests will be conducted and relayed to the Motbury Police Department.

“I can’t believe it,” you murmur, following the paragraph with your finger. “We did it... Like, we actually, properly did it. Oh my god, Michael.” You turn to him, his beam as bright as your own. “Oh my god!”

“Take that, non believers!” he practically bellows, picking you up and crushing your arms, swinging you around wildly with a chorus of laughter. “We fucking told you!”

“We were right,” you gasp, not at all phased by the tightness aching in your sides Michael continues to spin you. “We were fucking right! It’s a copycat, it’s all-” you wince as he attempts to pull Jackie into an equally eager embrace while refusing to put you down, “it’s all linked! The markings lining up with the fucking…the god damn killings and the storms - oh my god! They’re all the same person! Michael - stop squeezing me!”

Jackie smiles, here eyes glinting as she side steps Michael’s second attempt at a sweeping hug. Not to be deterred, he shifts his hold on you, pinning you securely to his shoulder while glaring a warning at the lab technician.

“Congratulations are in order,” Jackie offers, placing an office chair between herself and the detective, “this is a major break through. You’ve closed off some serious ‘what if’s’. Now you can compile all of the evidence together and work from it. Get rid of some loose ends!”

Michael eyes the barrier suspiciously, still refusing to let you go. Squirming in his grasp, you wriggle until you can see the report still clutched in your grasp, bent unceremoniously over his shoulder to read the brief yet again.

“It’s a person,” you breathe, winded slightly as Michael lunges for Jackie, “thank god. It’s just a person.”

“Don’t celebrate too soon,” Michael grunts over Jackie’s squeak, his arm winding around her and hauling her into his hug, the two of you clattering together. “Gotcha, you fuck. But yeah,” he sways with you both, uncertain as to what he should do now that he’s achieved his short term goal. “It just means we’ve got a shit load of work to do.”

You gasp, wincing as his shoulder dives into your stomach. “Yeah, well, it’s only a matter of time now. We can start looking at people and matching them to our Window copycat theory.” The floor greets you when you’re released, but your grin never fades. “You ready to deep dive into some townspeople files?”

Michael beams wickedly. “You’ll have to start without me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, Detective asshat needs me for a trip out. You’re on your own. But hey, none of this would’ve been possible if it weren’t for you. So thanks.”

The clutter of the back room has becomes a familiar strain, accompanying your work day as though it prides itself on being such a loyal employee. Paperwork packed into shelves and plastic bags loaded with evidence press in from all sides as you curl over the files on the desk you’ve claimed for the day, eyes scanning the fading ink in the hopes of finding something you don’t already know.

So far you’ve had little luck. The idea of giving up however, is appalling. No amount of begging from your stiff knees and aching limbs can convince you to leave the seat you’re glued to. A box of pastries has become one of your only friends, coffee cups littering the high surfaces that you’d rather not acknowledge as unstable.Every record up to this point has been irrelevant; ruled out with the new connections exposed from this morning.

The nerves behind your eyes throb with every thump thump of your heart.

You’d expected to find yourself running in circles, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself you’d realise that you’re doing just that. A tired hands rubs across your face, ink and mental exhaustion smudging across your cheeks and pinching at temples. A soft groan escapes you before you can stop it, forehead coming to rest on your folded arms. It’s been hours. Hours since you’d celebrated with Michael. Hours since you’d burst into the filing room like a whirlwind, and hours since you’d sat down with every record the police had on the townsfolk.

The lights in the room are still far too bright. Obnoxious, straining and artificial. Your eyebrows furrow.

What exactly you’ve been searching for is still a mystery, even to you.

Which is infuriating, you admit with a click of your tongue and unflattering grimace, and taking far too long.

You’d originally started with the goal of categorising the townsfolk by sifting through suspect lists, alibis, and recent activity; collecting records on the individuals specified as being of interest to the investigation, but it quickly proved near impossible for you alone. Everything seems to contradict, no matter how deep you dig. Your mind paces through the same patterns until you’re left dizzy with your head on the desk, frustrated beyond words and desperate for something to clean the sour taste of coffee from your tongue.

Stealing your remaining reserves of motivation, you yank yourself back into sitting, fingers slipping into your pocket and producing the two small stones you’ve taken to carrying with you. Their weight is reassuring in your palm, warm against the skin and humming so softly that your stresses start to lull almost instantly. Turning them over again and again, the sound of the stones jostling together eases you even further while your attention drifts back to the next record in front of you - one that had recently been ruled out.

The number of suspects for the case had been few and far between, but that hadn’t deterred you from an investigation before. Instead, no matter how much you loathe it, double checking the past leads was the best way to build a foundation for future investigations. Focusing on the page, you grimace at the corners dotted with your clumsy, absentminded scribbles - hoping the police department won’t mind the mindless shapes you’ve subconsciously scrawled.

SCRIPT

Interview with Gavin D. Free (Store Clerk). Interviewer: Officer B. Burns. Supervisor: Det. Insp. J. Dooley.

Additional staff on script record: Dooley & Jones. NOTE: Supposed witness to suspicious activity during storm.

11/12/16 - Suspect reassessment. RESULT: REMOVED FROM SUSPECT REGISTRY.

Burns: Alright, for the record can you please state your name, occupation, and the prepared statement for the dates specified, Mr. Free?

Free: Well, I don’t really have to now, init?

Burns: … Excuse me?

Free: My name. You’ve already said it. Why should I say it if you’ve already gone and told me the answer?

Burns: That’s not the point-

Free: Then what is? Cus if you were tryin’ to see if I was an imposter or summut, then you’ve just gone and given away the name.

Burns: Why would I think you were an imposter?!

Free: I dunno, I gues- oh, for the record I just shrugged there - I dunno Officer, aren’t you supposed to be covering all the bases or somethin’?

Burns: By checking if the local bag boy isn’t-

Free: What if I was wearin’ a skin suit?

Burns: What?

Free: Yeah, like those episodes of Doctor Who.

Burns: Episode… of Doctor-

Free: I could be an imposter wearing my own skin.

Burns: Why would you be wearing your own ski-

Free: Yeah, god what were those big bloated bastard things called? Big and green and bloody ugly… Eccleston was top as the doctor back then. Tennant was pretty alright though. C’mon, what were those fuckin’ things called-

Burns: I’m not sure how this is relevant, Mr. Free. Can we just get back on trac-

Free: Slitheen!

Burns: Excuse me?

Free: Those monsters, init? The Slitheen.

Burns: I’m not checking to see if you’re a Slytherin.

Free: Oi, I’m a Gryffindor! For the record-

Burns: Dont-

Free: I’m a Gryffindor with my boy.

Jones [muffled]: Yeah boy! Gryffindors for life!

Dooley [muffled]: Michael, can you just - shut the fuck up? There’s an interview going on.

Jones [muffled]: Oh shit, right. Sorry boss. Hey, you’re a Slytherin, right?

Dooley [muffled]: Yeeehhhhhhh-

Burns: Now is not the time! Look, Mr. Free, I don’t care what Harry Potter house you’re in, and I’m not checking to see if you’re a Slith-whatever.

Free: Good.

Burns: What?

Free: Good to know you ain’t an idiot or nothin’!

Burns: What the fuc-

Free: I couldn’t be a Slitheen, could I? I ain’t fat enough. You’d have to check Jack for that - OH! Oh and I don’t fart nearly enough. See, you gotta fart to get into the skin suit… now that I think about it, Geoff is awfully suspicious now. He’s always farting… But so’s Michael. [Distant] Micoo, hey Micoo!

Jones [muffled]: What the fuck do you want, asshole? Can’t you see there’s an interview going on?

Free: You fart a lot, right?

Jones [muffled]: Yeah you fucking know it.

Free: You ain’t an alien from outta space, are you?

Jones [muffled]: … What the fuck.

Free: You’d tell me if you were, right?

Jones: Yeah… yeah I’d - Jeremy shut the fuck up you’re gonna break something - yeah I’d tell you, boy.

Dooley [muffled]: For the record, Officer Burns has given up on life.

Free: Thanks, boy.

Jones [muffled]: You’re my boy, boy.

Burns: ALRIGHT. THAT’S IT. I’VE HAD IT. I’M DONE. We’ll do this again tomorrow.

The pen nib glides across the page as you read, ink and spiraled patterns following the transcript until you reach the abrupt end.

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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COTW - Chapter 12 update

Leaving Eren sleeping, Levi was forced to drag himself to work, dropping a still sleepy Viren off at Hanji's on the way. Eren had to be at the function centre they were holding the wind up in at 10am, his mate springing on him that he was supposed to be helping with the set up, the previous night. Though he did insist that he'd told Levi, and it was written on the fridge calendar... not that'd he'd acknowledge it. Not until he realised he was upsetting Eren instead of his mate being able to take it as a joke. He didn't like the idea of his pregnant mate being on his feet all day, but there was nothing he could do about it. His shift started at 5am, and even showering at work would be cutting things fine. He was dressing up for Eren's sake, trying to make amends for his stupid spat of jealousy. Thankfully he was on a split shift. His morning in the field, with the last few hours working with students completing their Paramedic degree. Most of that involved role-play, much to his disgust, but with Erwin still being in a shitty arse mood, it was actually preferable. If he was upset with him, he'd wish the man would just spit it out, and if he was upset with Mike, he wished the two of them would just bone it out... It was tiring, and beginning to affect patient care. Erwin had dropped the ball at an accident, nearly costing the victim their life. He didn't want to write Erwin up, but he also didn't know how to ask him what the fuck was going on with him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, and he definitely didn't want to fight with Erwin over Eren again. The last half an hour of his shift was the worse. He was so close to seeing Eren, yet his students were shitty idiots. He'd somehow managed to catch the eye of two young female betas, that insisted on bombarding him with pointless questions. What kind of moron didn't know that you didn't put butter on a burn because it seals the heat in. Even burn creams didn't compare to fresh cool running water. And then... just as he'd thought he was free, they'd been waiting for him outside the depot. Dressed in his suit, with his hair still dripping, the pair of them had bombarded him with even more pointless shitty questions. Where was he going? What was he doing? Was he seeing someone? Like the mark on his neck and the ring on his finger didn't scream that. Stupidly, he'd tried to deflect, saying he was on his way to see his omega and son. One of them, less than quietly, "whispering" to her friend he was a "total DILF". He was so fucking done. Climbing into his car, he fished his phone out his pocket. Eren had been providing him with photos since his arrival at the function centre. His fiancée running late to arrive, sending a selfie labeled "I over slept!". It didn't look like it. His love looked perfect. A healthy red glow in his cheeks as he smiled up at him. Sending his mate a quick text to tell him he was on the way, there were only a few moments before he replied, Eren promising to meet him out the front of the function centre. The function centre had the usual crappy parking. Levi having to partially block the alley running between the side of the centre, and the next building. He was lucky to even get space, and it wouldn't have been a problem if the arsehole with their tiny car hadn't parked half over the bay lines. With the day he'd had, he was sorely tempted to smash their windows in. Jogging up the front steps, he finally managed to crack as a smile. Eren looked brilliant. Dressed in a dark suit with an emerald green shirt, and white tie, his mate took his breath away "Levi?" "You look amazing" Blushing softly, Eren walked over to him, grazing his cheek with a soft kiss. His hair had been neatly combed back, forming a man bun. He normally hated them, but he looked amazing. There were probably a million different words to describe how good his omega looked, yet his brain had short circuited to "amazing" "Thank you. You look... hot. And tired" "Hot as in hot? Or hot as in hot?" "Sexy. Gorgeous. Perfect. Hot" "I wanted to look nice for you" "Oh, you look nice. More than nice... you have no idea the things, you in a suit does to me" "I seem to vaguely recall" "As much as I'd love to show you, we'd never get back inside" Looping his arm through Eren, he smiled a dopey smile. Clueless to the way his silver eyes sparkled with affection for his omega "Shall we?" "We shall. It's actually impossible to get lost in this place. The dance studio was just too small for everything" "Have you been busy?" "A little. I had to help sew up last minute costume tears, but no. No heavy lifting" "And you're ready?" "Yep. Sasha is the one having the meltdown. She wanted to change costumes again" "Again?" "This is costume number 6. She was going to go with pink to begin with" "I think you could have pulled it off" "Noooo. I'm just lucky I'm not in a dress. Honestly" Escorted by Eren, the whole inside of the function centre had been transformed... not that he knew what it usually looked like. Decked in Christmas colours, it bordered on tacky, but was saved by the fact it was December "Ignore the decor. Dance mums are fucking scary. They all thought they knew best and this is what happened. It's what I imaging reindeer vomit to be" "I don't know. There's a few things in here that look amazing... especially you" "You're killing me here..." "Not my intention I promise" It was nice to see all eyes on Eren, his fiancée walking through the tables with a sense of confidence that nearly had Levi tripping over his own feet. It stroked his and his alpha's egos to know he was the one going home with Eren at the end of the night. As they walked, a few people waving to Eren as they walked, Eren politely waving back "You haven't missed much. Just the boring speech part and the smaller children" "I'm sorry for being late" "I'm really not mad. Now, all the drinks are ID only. Hanji ordered you a drink already. She's going to take Viren tonight because I've been busy all day. And I'll probably need help stretching tonight" "I can stretch you" "Mmm, as much as I like the sound of that, I don't want to wake up with leg cramps tomorrow" "Then I'll have to stretch you thoroughly" "You need to stop talking, or we're going to be in some real trouble" Levi thought his mate was being flirtatious, until he noticed some very disapproving mum's glaring. Reaching their table, Eren pulled his chair out for him "Hanji, remember. Keep an eye on him for me" "Eren, we have tequila. What's going to go wrong" Eren put his hands on his hips, scolding her "You're only allowed one" "Two, I've arranged for Eld to take us home. I just have to call" "I have to go now. Here, take care of my phone. I don't really want to leave it in my bag" Passing it over, Eren kissed him softly. Ruffling Viren's hair as he stood "I'll see you later. And you, be good for daddy and Hanji" "Good luck" "Break a leg" "Don't tell him that. He's got enough pins in his ankle" "You two behave" "We will!" Almost as soon as Eren had Disappeared off to the side and out of view from the tables, the concert? soon started. Levi didn't know he needed a hip-hop dancing Jesus in his life until it happened. Nor did he know that the star of Bethlehem knew ballet, but his favourite was the tap dancing sheep. This shit was great. People didn't appreciate his laughter, Viren staring at him like he'd lost his marbles. Mary went to kiss Joseph, Joseph burst into tears and ran off the stage. The little girl dropped the baby Jesus doll, the head coming off and she kicked it off to the side, acting like nothing happened. The whole nativity scene acted out by dance and it was gold. The next set was more of the same, though it was older kids. If had to guess, he'd say from 10 years, or so, to 16. Santa doing some Latin dance with rudolf, and instead of dancing the Christmas tree sang. The chimney had a wardrobe malfunction, or the kid just didn't give two shits. They couldn't move properly, falling on their back and doing the best interpretive dance of a stuck turtle he'd even seen. While everyone whispered around them, he and Hanji were struggling not to laugh. Anna wanted to help them, trying to escape Hanji's lap. After the Santa set came to an end, the stage area was cleared. He and Hanji both needed the break. Then came the teenagers dance performances, which sadly went off without a hitch. After that was a small break before the ballroom dancing started. It was now most of the small children left with their parents. Returning with another drink, Hanji was grinning ear to ear as she returned. Anna had needed the bathroom, the little girl in love with everything going on around her "Enjoying yourself?" "That was great" "Good. I'm going to enrol Anna, what about Viren?" "I think he might be a bit too small right now" "You just don't want him stuck in a chimney" They really shouldn't be laughing... "He's enough of a handful as it is" "I wonder if they managed to get them out of there" "I have no idea" "I wonder if Eren got to watch?" "I hope he did. I didn't realise it would be so... Christmassy" "Neither did I. I wish we'd brought the others now" "I don't. Erwin's in a sulk" "Yeah. I have no idea why. I asked if he could pick me up tonight, and he lost it at me" "I needed this more than I thought" "Well hold onto that feeling, Eren will be up soon. If it's like the first two bits, they'll work their way from youngest to oldest" "Is it horrible to hope for another stuff up?" Hanji ducked her head, checking to make sure no one was listening "Nope. I am too. I hope they have DVD's of this. Or one of those crazy dance mums has been filming" "We'll have to ask Eren" "Yeah" The younger kids were kind of adorable as they danced the best they could. The girls were wearing way too much make up, looking more like mutant, oversized dolls than people, while the boys were dressed as gentlemen. One kid had the cockiest grin on his face, onto to end up with foot stomped on by his partner at the end, when nudged her out the way for more attention. "Hi, Guys! Fancy seeing you here" "Connie! Lovely to see you again! Here, come sit with us" Unlike Levi, Connie was wearing a causal shirt and jeans. The alpha all smiles as he sat down next to Hanji "What'd I miss?" "The funniest shi-shoe. You're not going to get into trouble are you?" "What? No. Sasha told me not to bother coming until late" "Seriously? You missed the best bits" "As long as I see her dance, that's the main thing" "Well, we seem to be in the teenagers now. It shouldn't be too much longer" Hanji was wrong. It seemed to take forever. There was a short break after the young dancers, until the M.C finally returned to the announce the senior dancers performing the Viennese Waltz to Alice's Waltz. Levi sitting forward in his chair, as Eren swept in with Sasha on his arm. His omega looked so cool and composed, that Levi ended up half squishing Viren as he completely forgot his son in his lap "Uncle Eren!" "Shhh, Anna. Uncle Eren knows you're here" "Mummy" "Shhh, baby. Let's just watch mummy" "Go Sasha!" Sasha shot Connie a glare as she and Eren took their places. Eren was breathtaking. Out of all the dancers, his omega... he seriously took his breath away. He expected Alice's Waltz to take longer than a minute or so that it did. Eren and Sasha looked like naturals as Sasha draped herself in Eren's arms. Eren spinning her around as if it was nothing, and as if he wasn't 4 months pregnant. Clapping politely, Hanji leaned across the table to smack his arm "You need to breathe" "Whoo! Sasha!" Connie was on his feet, not caring he was making a scene. Standing Sasha back up, Eren bowed as Sasha curtsied. Her dress looked stunning, but no where as nice as his fiancée "I am. I just... I didn't expect it to be that nice" "Of course you didn't. You don't exactly scream the type to dance" Walking off to the side of the dance floor, Viren wanted his mum. Their son trying to escape him to go running after Eren. One by one, each couple was called forward, their names, dance style and song announced, before an arrangement of 3ish minutes. Levi impressed by each style of dance, as he'd expected each couple to waltz or something to that effect. Anna was really into, clapping her hands slightly out of time with the music, as Connie encouraged her. Given how quiet everyone else was, it was a miracle they weren't told to shut up. Eren and Sasha were the last couple. Eren holding Sasha's hand as if Sasha was a princess. Both of them smiling as they took their places a few metres apart "Dancing the Foxtrot to Christina Aguilera's Say Something. It's our final couple. Mr Eren Yeager and his partner Mrs Sasha Springer" Connie kept his mouth shut this time. Perhaps knowing better than to upset Sasha when she was in character. Eren looked slightly more nervous, but relaxed as the music started. Acting flirty, then shocked and betrayed, Sasha danced around Eren, before Eren took hold of her hands. It seemed to him that the pair made better use of the space than the other pairs. Not that he was biased. He was in awe of Sasha's fancy footwork, until Eren started. The pair playing arguing and reconciling lovers perfectly. The dance ending wish Sasha "dying" in Eren's arms. There were a few very tiny moments Eren looked as if he was about to panic, but no one but him would have known the way his mate moved. Standing Sasha up, once again, Sasha span away from him, their hands catching at the last moment, Eren bowing and Sasha naturally curtsying again. Jumping to his feet, Connie was clapping as he yelled "That's my wife!" Sasha blew his a kiss, before letting Eren guide her off the dance floor. Only for then all to be called back on, bow and curtsy again. The M.C announcing another short break. Leading her over to them, Eren released Sasha's hand. The woman going to her husband as Eren came to him. Lifting Viren up, he nuzzled into the boy's face, careful not to upset his graze. Eren then staring at him, and Levi no longer remembering the English language "You broke him" "I can see that, Hanji" "Uncle Eren, you looked beautiful. But Sasha was prettier" Sasha giggled "Thank you, Anna" "Levi? You're not going to say anything?" "Wow..." Eren laughed softly. His sweaty omega sitting down in his lap carefully "Thank you" Rubbing Viren's back, their son kept his face hidden against Eren's chest "He's definitely broken" "Shoe up, Hanji" "No. He's coming too..." Struggling like an idiot, he really didn't know what to say. Eren was out of his league. Hanji however, had no problem with her mouth "Sasha, does that mean you're done?" "Yep. That's me for the night" "You were wonderful" "Thanks. Eren is such a great partner. I'm going to miss dancing with him" Readjusting himself to turn to Sasha, his mate rolled his eyes "You make it sound like I'll never dance again" Sasha huffed. Climbing out of Connie's lap to sit beside her husband "It's going to be a long wait to find another suitable partner. Most don't like the foot work of a foxtrot" "Eren's great at throwing himself into complicated things" "Oi. I'm sitting right here" "We know. You're supposed to be going and getting ready" "I know, but it can wait" "I thought you wanted to clean up" "That's why it can wait. Besides, someone is getting sleepy" Sasha yawned, then winked "How did you know?" "You haven't eaten in the last half an hour" "I don't eat that much... but do you guys want food? I've got food" Levi's stomach rumbled slightly, though he knew exactly what he wanted to eat "That would be great. We did eat before, but it's a long night for the kids" "I'll help you" Climbing out his lap, the kiss Eren bestowed upon his lips was hardly kid friendly. Breaking the kiss, Eren had a cheeky smile on his face "Damn, Shitty brat" "I love you my arsehole of an alpha. Viren's just about asleep, and I suppose I really do have to get ready" "Ok. Will you be alright?" "Yep. I've got something special planned, so don't take your eyes off me" "I would never"

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dragonofyang · 6 years

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why r u called dragon or yang if ur white? not trying to be aggressive but like if those r names u chose for urself u might wanna check that white privilege

I appreciate that you’re not trying to be aggressive, but I think you and I need to have a frank conversation about the assumptions made in this ask and nature of the question you are asking me.

My response is under the cut (sorry mobile peeps, I have a lot to say)

I think the biggest thing I have to address before I get into the history and semantics of my url is that first and foremost, I am not 100% white, anon. I’m white-passing, so I understand the confusion, especially since I’ve only recently taken to using my own face as my icon instead of art. I don’t fault you for that, since cameras historically have been machinated to function and read pale skin better and the lighting I have in my icon and the header image of my blog when you view it from the dashboard helps wash my skin out. Color and light theory work against showing my skin tone a lot of times, so unless I’m in direct sunlight wearing things that bring the color balance of a photo to black, I’ll look white, especially if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten any substantial sunlight. That said, I do experience a very conditional privilege as a white-passing person, but my passing is entirely dependent on how I as a person am read by other people. I have had everything from “hey you’re exotic [because of your race]” to “oh hello fellow person of my ethnicity” and been racially profiled by the police despite having security clearance at my place of work. Somewhere there’s two photos of me with my mom’s and dad’s sides of the family respectively and I’m either the darkest child in that photo or the lightest one. That holds true even now as a young adult, I’m almost always whiter than any Latinx people I know and at least have more saturated color in my skin than any white people I know. That’s all IRL, though. Online, I can easily just state my ethnicity if I choose to and people accept it, because the internet is a great equalizer in terms of first impressions. It’s not my skin or my voice or how my eyes are too light to belong to a Latina girl, it’s the words I use and I am judged by my character rather than the race somebody thinks I am. That said, this is the first time somebody’s assumed my ethnicity online, which is why I’m taking the time to reply to this the way that I am, anon, because I feel this could be a beneficial experience to you and to other mixed people out there who face the same questions and accusations and assumptions as I do. I am too white and too dark, I am commodified as exotic and therefore sexy to some, I’m “one of the good ones”, I have been asked if I wear color contacts (I don’t, but that’s a surprise to far too many people), I have a running list on countries/ethnicities people have guessed because they think they can pin down exactly where I am from (spoiler, I was born in the USA). Fundamentally, I am not white, but I can seem like it. I can be as affable as a proper Midwest-raised girl can be, but that doesn’t change that when people say “all the Mexicans should go back where they came from” they are speaking about me as well. They just don’t realize it. It’s not their fault that they don’t know my ethnicity, just as it’s not yours, but it doesn’t change the fact that assumptions can breed danger for me, because now if I don’t act correctly, I could become a target for racially-fueled vitriol or sexual harassment. Again, it’s not inherently your fault for assuming that you knew my ethnicity, but I strongly recommend you do not do this in the future to me or anybody in your life. If there is someone in your life who does not mind answering such questions, then speak with them, and my inbox/IM is always open to discuss things off anon if you have further questions.

Now that that’s out of the way, I’m going to address your primary question: “why r u dragon or yang”. I’m guessing that you meant to type “of” instead of “or”, but just in case you meant “or” that’s what this paragraph is going to address. Dragons are not culturally or ethnically closed mythical beasts the way that the Native American Thunderbird is or how Hinduism is a closed religion. Dragons and other great serpents have existed as a concept pretty much everywhere humans have, and I have a very close spiritual tie to dragons and commune with them whenever I partake in my witchcraft.

That said, “dragonofyang” is a username I’ve used for the past 10-ish years, originally stemming from when I joined DeviantART at the age of 13. I’ve since deactivated the account since I hadn’t touched it in over five years, but when I joined, I was taking my first forays into paganism and was absolutely blown away by the gods, the concept of the five elements, spells, how the yin and yang symbolized balance and how it wasn’t just a religious concept but a way of life. On that site I took my first forays into Wicca and spoke with many witches, all of whom encouraged me to explore my spirituality and taught me many things about safety in practice, stealthing to avoid judgment by closed-minded religious folks, and how enriching it is to have a personal or working relationship with a pantheon or single deity/spirit guide. If I’m being perfectly honest, it’s also a remnant of my edgy phase because I really wanted the username “DragonofDarkness” but that as you can guess was taken already, but in my research to find something that described my new phase in life I got very deep into the symbolism of yin and yang, at least as deep as a 13-year-old with limited internet knowledge could get. Yang is the bright, it’s the bold, it’s the daytime and it harbors a bit of cold, of dark, of nighttime within it, but that makes it richer. Ever since I was little I’ve always been fascinated by magic, and this was a new take on how the world worked that my little kid mind was just blown away. Naturally, being a bit of an edgelord, I misunderstood it as a principle and focused on how deep and dark I really was underneath, ya know, typical 3edgy5me shit, but as I’ve grown, I’ve come to accept that yeah there’s some shit in my life that hurt me or was bad, it doesn’t overshadow the good and I’ve stopped trying to be an asshole because that’s actually not as cool or deep as people try to make it. I look at my username and I see how I’ve grown as a person, from somebody who doesn’t understand the concept of balance very well or where my spiritual journey would take me and I look at myself now as somebody who’s made but a few steps further in the road to life. I look at my username and remember that yang means the sun, the light and that without the yin, growth would not have happened.

My username also has some ties to my current spiritual practice, though less overt, because my patron deity is the dragon god Quetzalcoatl. Dragons in Mexico represent the sun, and jaguars represent the night, and in my practice, both dragons and jaguars have made themselves apparent to me, and in a sense they balance each other out in a way similar to the yin-yang symbol. I felt the call to Quetzalcoatl about six years ago now and I have much to learn from him still, but he’s continued to teach me about balance, in the day and night, in the human and the animal, in the violent and the peaceful. I’ve come a long way from being some edgy 13-year-old kid, thankfully, but I know my journey isn’t over.

That being said, if my username is offensive and a misuse of a Taoist symbol (such as if it’s a closed religion and use of its symbols when you aren’t initiated is offensive), I’d like to speak with Taoists directly and learn how and why so that I might not offend in the future, especially since I’m unsure if Dao jiao/Dao jia are closed a religion/philosophy. But it’s also been my online name for 10 years now and I’d have to change it on many platforms in order to fully rescind my offense, and if possible I’d like that sort of change to be as unobtrusive as possible because many people know me primarily or exclusively by this username. So unless I come to a point personally where I feel my username no longer suits me, or my ignorance addressed by those more educated than I, I will be keeping it. I am not the most educated person on the internet, and my resources are sometimes limited in terms of educating myself properly, so if there is something I am to learn then I request that I be taught. I am always willing to learn and better myself as a person.

#dragon's ramblings #religion #racism #long post #paganism #spirituality #witchcraft

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wingsporkhalo · 7 years

Text

Through Burning Ashes-- An original (and bad) story

This was written by @mysticdelphox97 a long, long time ago, and since I was cracking her up with my commentary on this story late last year, she gave me permission to post it here with our comments. It’s a fantasy story, and it’s less than 15 pages even with all the comments, so it’s pretty short!

Anywho, let’s go! Short excerpt above the cut, the rest underneath it! I have to say, though, the best stuff is under the cut. I love this spork.

Mystic: on another note I found an old story prologue and I'm DYING BECAUSE Mystic: MY WORD CHOICES AND DESCRIPTIONS ARE Mystic: THEY'RE INTERESTING

Wing: TELL ME

Mystic: omg I gotta send it to you words cannot explain how INTERESTING this story "prologue" is omg

Wing: PLEASE DO

Mystic: I'm not even done reading it but holy shit

Through Burning Ashes

Wing: I mean aren't all ashes burning though Mystic: Well, except for the ones that aren't burning

Prologue:

Once, many centuries ago, a great fleet of ships landed at a vast country.

Wing: Just...picturing them falling out of the sky. THUMP

It was a magical land, untouched by man until the large, wooden vessels rode unto the beaches. Its beautiful grounds and astonishing maturity surprised the pioneers.

Wing: So what I'm getting from that second sentence is that the pioneers wanted to plow that land, ifyaknowwhaddimean

Mystic: the last time I touched this was apparently 2013 and I'm just??? I wrote shit like this back then?? jeesus Mystic: I GUESS I DUNNO

Wing: Not helped by the word "unto" in the first sentence

Its creatures and native residents were mostly intelligent beings, who were capable to communicate with the outsiders. The name of this great continent is Arybiana.

Wing: how do I pronounce Arybiana

Mystic: uh. yeah. Mystic: I have no fucking clue tbh xD Mystic: it's been that long

Wing: And who named it that tho

The fleet that approached this land was loaded with independent Humans, who fled from their nation that ran on tyranny.

Wing: Well of course. Can't spell tyranny without "ran." Also “tranny,” so make of that what you will???

By the time they arrived, they were very close to death, as sickness swept to and from the survivors.

Wing: sickness swept to AND from the survivors?? OH GOD

Mystic: IM PISSING MYSELF Mystic: it's bad its so bad

The intelligent race of Mocats,

Wing: Okay so I know it's probably pronounced moc-cats but I'm pronouncing it Moe-cats

Mystic: MOE-CATS Mystic: OMG Mystic: IM CRYING Mystic: I DIDN NOT THINKG OF THAT

small feline creatures that have the capability to levitate,

Wing: A FLOATING FELINE YOU SAY??

took the dying Humans into their care. One they were more peculiarly interested in was an ill, pregnant woman, about to give birth.

Wing: Aw ye dey into some freaky shit man

Mystic: PFPFFFFFFFFFFF OMG Mystic: MY STOMACH MUSCHELS OMG

The tribal healer was able to help deliver the infant safely. Although the baby lived, the mother perished from the raging virus.

Wing: The same one that kills Primeapes :'C [note: we had been discussing how the pokedex entries for Primeape in Sun and Moon say that Primeape can get so angry that it just drops dead.] R.I.P. Angermom

Mystic: well hot damn Mystic: I'm actually crying omg I can't sTOP THIS IS SO BAD

The Mocats saved the majority of the dying Humans. After they recovered, they listened to their story, and then gave them an undisturbed section of the country so they could thrive and prosper. For twenty years, the Humans lived peacefully with nature. After experiencing all that the country had to give them, they decided to become a part of it.

Wing: [sultry music]

It was actually the son of the ill mother that proposed an alliance to the Mocats, promising to come to their aid during dark times as they had done. The patriarch of the Mocatian race and the Human sealed the deal that day,

Wing: I'm sorry I can't see "sealed the deal" as anything but a euphemism

Mystic: that's ok, this is a really old story so I'm not surprised that that's there

which marked the start of the Alliance.

There were also other evolved creatures that they befriended, who also were sworn into the Alliance. The next race to be emitted was the Elves,

Wing: WHERE ARE ELVES BEING EMITTED FROM??? IS THERE AN ELF-EMITTING ORIFICE IN THE EARTH OR SOMETHING

Mystic: I think I meant admitted? Or.... something similar.... Mystic: i don't know

Wing: Probably admitted, yes, but emitted is hilarious as hell

Mystic: i didn't even catch that so good call there!

who are of the same DNA structure and proportions as the Humans, only their average height is taller. They also have the ability to practice magic.

Wing: So like...no pointed ears tho?

Mystic: pffffffff i think they still have the pointed ears idk why i added that their DNA was the same

Wing: It's to remind us that elves and humans are compatible ;D

Next to join were the Rabbijacks, rabbit-like creatures who have above-average IQs and are generally shy but natural peacemakers. They can use their hind legs as well as a humanoid, and can also be on all fours as well.

Wing: I mean so can I, but that doesn't mean I should

The same applies to the Wolverines, canine creatures

Wing: But...but wolverines are already real creatures...

Mystic: apparently not in this universe Mystic: wtf was my angsty high-school self thinking

with rather relaxed postures who are mischievous and sly,

Wing: RACIST

but are masters in the art of Weaponry, and they have a thing for setting traps and explosives.

Wing: The vagueness of the expression "have a thing for" makes me nervous

Mystic: yeahhhhhh, i cringed pretty hard at that

The Ty-Geirs

Wing: TY-GEIRS??

Mystic: THAT TOO

are a feline race, same as the Mocats, except they are about as tall as a Human, but they are skilled in the Battle Arts (it’s basically similar to kung fu, martial arts, and karate).

Wing: "ABOUT AS TALL AS A HUMAN, BUT SKILLED IN THE BATTLE ARTS" NAME INVOKES IMAGE OF A "TIGER"

IT'S INCINEROAR

Mystic: OH MY GOD IT IS Mystic: BRUH Mystic: I INVENTED INCINEROAR Mystic: AYE

Wing: I'M SO PROUD

Mystic: "skilled in the battle arts" Why couldn't I have just used 'combat' or something instead of trying to make some special snowflake thing

The Lynbaxes are also a feline race, raised in mechanics and electronics,

Wing: They are actually raised in the electronics. Like Pokémon being raised in a PC Box

and have a knack for building machines, whether for modern society or for military purposes. Lastly, the Twilitians joined. They are a humanoid race with light mint-green skin and neon markings.

Wing: ...Twilitians Well, it's a gentler term than "Twitards" anyway Wing: "Light mint-green skin and neon markings" Okay but what neon color were the markings

Mystic: they might not be loosely based off of Midna's race from Twilight Princess Mystic: yeah

They are considered the creatures of the shadow, which suits them because they can transform themselves into shadow.

Wing: Well I mean yeah that's pretty straightforward

Soon, the alliances began to expand on their technology, just as America had done in our dimension. In time, the country began to grow, from the most powerful cities to the leisurely towns and hamlets.

Wing: Leisurely? The entire town is leisurely Also "hamlets" omg what time period am I supposed to be imagining? LOL

Mystic: I have no idea honestly, and if I don't even know and its my own story (from millions of years ago) then that's kind of a problem

And the best part is that very little of the forests and natural areas were eliminated, since the small communities used and incorporated the resources to create their home district. Arybiana eventually became a profitable nation, involved with international trading and other overseas projects.

The Kingdom of Celire became the Capitol of the country.

Wing: Okay but how does an entire kingdom become a capital

It is ruled by two representatives, one male and one female, of each race partaking in the Alliance. These representatives are carefully selected by surveys submitted by the individuals of each community, and by the approval of the Shaman, their God. The High Rulers is the name for this group of delegates. They act as the government, where they try to make life livable for their people (at the time, meaning everyone that thrived in the country, not just their own race).

The Capitol of Arybiana is also directly connected to smaller Kingdoms in charge of multiple communities. Each Kingdom is required to watch over at least one major community and a few or several minor communities. The High Rulers are trained to closely hand-pick a “King” and a “Queen” to watch over them.

Wing: Are there quotations because everyone is secretly genderqueer???

Often, the King and Queen are selected from a single race, since there was no discrimination at the time.

Wing: Haha that's realistic????????!

Mystic: OBVIOUSLY Mystic: i can't even imagine that i actually wrote this Mystic: like Mystic: i actyualyl sat down Mystic: and wrote this Mystic: jesus

For example, in the Kingdom of Eidelvice,

Wing: "Eidelvice" I would like you to know that I first read that as "Evildice" THE KINGDOM OF EVIL DICE

Mystic: I think I was trying to spell Edelweiss Mystic: but uh Mystic: that is definitely NOT Edelweiss

Wing: No it's okay when I read it over again I pronounced it in my head as "edelweiss" so...mission accomplished??

Mystic: yeah kinda? i didn't know how to spell it at the time ^^'

it was often the Rabbijacks that ran the communities. Since the Rabbijacks are true peace-keepers by nature, and Eidelvice is a large interracial district, they were more suited to be used. The communities are also run by a mayor and a small council. It is their duty to report the functions to the King and Queen; and to smooth out any problems with the Community Council, then to the King and Queen if the issues are out of control.

It is allowed that, if the King and Queen are not married and in love, they can be united and have children. The Princes and Princesses live with their parents, and when they retire, they are given the choice to lead the Kingdom as a King or Queen (if they meet the requirements, that is), or to live a normal life as an average Arynan citizen.

Wing: "An average Arynan citizen" Yo where the fuck the "b" from "Arybiana" go Why is that so close to "Aryan"

Mystic: I Mystic: I don't know

It is through these methods of careful selection that have kept Arybiana safe for most of the Early Age. During this time, there were some imperfections. Every now and then, there was a sour apple in the hand-assembled bushel. But, the communities and the Kingdoms have the power to vouch for the replacement of the “sour apple.”

Wing: America 2k16 Mystic: OMG

Let’s say there was a mayor in one of the communities who mistreated the residents, and one of the other communities found out. They would inform their King and Queen about the situation. The King and Queen would then send a petition to the other communities for a vote to impeach him/her.

Wing: Yo you should print this up and just send it to the government with no explanation

Mystic: PFFFFFFF BRUH Mystic: omg I'm crying again omg omg

When it comes around again with the final tallies, the King and Queen address it to the Capitol. Only the High Rulers get to fully decide the result.

These techniques worked well with the country for nearly two thousand years after the Humans arrived. However… that was about to change.

It happened in the year of 1990. The habits of the races began to change. A portion of the Humans began to grow racist to the humanoid race of Twilight, the Twilitians. It was merely because of their light-mint skin and their attire that led to their argument.

Wing: America 2k16 [thousand-yard stare at the wall]...

Mystic: pffffffffffsjlekhdoikjedf

Then… suddenly, the Twilitians simply vanished. They became lost within the small opening between 1999 and the beginning of the 20th century. Everyone pointed fingers at the Humans, who retaliated and said they would never consider doing such a thing, even though parts of their population were acting rather idiotic.

Wing: PFFFFFFFF THE "RATHER IDIOTIC" AMONGST ALL THIS INFODUMPING JUST STRUCK ME FUNNY FOR SOME REASON

The searches turned empty-handed. It was as if they just simply melted into the mist…

Wing: What mist Did we establish that there was lots of mist

Mystic: I was trying to be mysterious I guess

Wing: Mist-erious

Mystic: xD

Because of the confusion, in 2001 the High Rulers (Humans included) turned to the Shaman for answers. The Shaman is a shadowy being, informally known as Shadow.

Wing: I...I thought he was known as Shaman And that's kind of an unoriginal nickname if he's a shadowy being. God, Humans aren't the only ones being idiotic here

Mystic: what was i thinking when i named him that good lord Mystic: what made me think "oh yeah Shaman is a great name!!!" Mystic: like Mystic: honestly

He is the God of Arybiana, who can spot the goodness and potential of each person as well as the darkness and mishaps. Shadow told the representatives about a growing evil, feeding off the greed and pride of each race and becoming stronger.

“What?” they asked, “what evil?”

“One that could sever the Alliance for good,” the Shaman merely stated.

“How can we save it?” the High Rulers pleaded.

Shadow pondered. Then, in a smooth voice, he recited:

“The Allies will be saved,

when the Race of the Silver Lining,

is united with the World of Light.”

The representatives pondered this. Silver Lining was the strip of twilight, which the Twilian race was born from.

Wing: "Strip of Twilight: the early years of 50 Shades of Grey"

Mystic: PFFF O H MY GOD

So if they could save them, then…!

“Wait a minute,” the male elfin leader questioned, “how can we save the Twilitians if we don’t even know where they are? They practically vanished, without even a trace! Who could ever find a race that disappeared from the very face of the earth?”

Shadow responded again:

“The Race of Twilight will be saved,

by each Member of the Alliance,

led by the Hero.”

Wing: Yo that's the most generic advice ever. I vote we elect a new Shadow. This Shadow sucks ass

Mystic: I have to agree

“A hero?” they gasped. What hero? The only heroes were in myths,

Wing: Well that's a depressing viewpoint.

dating back millions of centuries before the Landing of the Humans, and the Creation of the Alliance. Were they about to witness the backwash of another tall tale?

Wing: That's...not where the word "backwash" belongs

Mystic: yeah I also thought that was very out of place

The God of Arybiana felt their anxiety. He felt their fear of losing their relationships with the other races, carefully built on two millenniums of hard times,

Wing: "Two millenniums" pfff

depression, loyalty, happiness, and, yes, he could feel love in there too.

The Shaman cleared his throat.

Wing: Even Shadowy Beings got mucus

Mystic: yup xD Mystic: I'm still legit dying of laughter here omg

“What I’m about to divulge is a Prophecy, written in the ink of the Ancient People who predicted the fate of Arybiana. Now, as I pass this to you, you must promise me this: the words are exactly as they will be mentioned. If the message was passed on, misconstrued, then the demands of Destiny will never be met, and Arybiana’s expected turmoil will come quicker than before. Do you, as the current Rulers of this nation, promise to remember every drop of this information?”

Wing: "Only if it is in liquid form, your Incorporealness" "...." "...." "...You guys really are idiotic."

Mystic: BWAHAHAHAHAHA OH MY GDO Mystic: your commentary gives me life omg

They nodded.

Shadow smiled.

Wing: ???????????What????am I supposed to picture???????????????

Mystic: i didn't think that through apparently

He took one large breath, exhaled deeply, and then claimed his older voice back.

Wing: Sure he just popped on down to the Pawn Shop real fast

He revealed the following of the Prophecy:

“The Hero shall emerge,

from a demise known by all, save They.

Wing: Oh, so they have to save Princess They, then.

"THEY'S IN TROUBLE, EVERYONE" "Why, Your Shadowyness. We thought you were more educated than that. Surely you mean 'they ARE in trouble.'" "NO I MEAN, YOU HAVE TO GO SAVE THEY." "Hahaha, oh, Your Royal Intangibleness!! Your jests are appreciated, but ill-timed. Please, share with us your wisdom!" "THEY IS DYING RIGHT NOW. LITERALLY RIGHT NOW." "Please, Your Duskiness!! We have need of your guidance!! Do not tease us so!!" "I HATE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU."

Mystic: OH MY GOOODDDDDD Mystic: I AMN DEAD Mystic: THIS IS GOLD HOLY SHIT Mystic: SENPAI YOU ARE WESOMENE Mystic: *AWESOME

Wing: LOLLLLL OMG THANK YOU I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I'M GIGGLING TOO PFFFFFF

Mystic: i was legit crying and wheexing throughout your commentary it's WONDERFUL

The Hero shall arise

from the ashes of a White Blossom,

breaking from the caging inferno,

of their fears and desires.”

After he was finished, questions immediately popped up:

“When will the Hero be born?”

“What race will he or she be?”

Wing: It's like they're discussing Jesus Wing: AND YAY THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY maybe I can convert this into a spork and just make the contributor anonymous but ;las;lk I'd want your comments in there too so MAYBE WE CAN PRETEND SOMEONE ELSE WROTE IT Wing: (unless you're not ashamed of it)

Mystic: BRUH I TOTALLY GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPORK THIS

Wing: ??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OKAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Mystic: I'm not ashamed at all man this has been collecting dust for a long time xD

“What do you mean by ‘a demise know by all, save they?’ and ‘arise from a White Blossom?’

“What catastrophe will we know of except for the Hero?”

“Quiet, quiet, my Children!” Shadow snapped. Everyone fell silent.

“The questions you ask, they are good ones. However, I am afraid I cannot answer them,” he said.

“Why not? Surely you must know exactly what’ll happen, if you can read off a freaking poem from your head,” the sassy female Wolverine snapped.

Wing: Uh, bruh, I've memorized a lot of song lyrics and poems and I don't know shit about the future

Mystic: I could recycle some of the plot and concepts but, obviously like 100X better xD Mystic: pffffft

“Empress Velma,

Wing: "Verily, I say unto my people, I hath lost my spectacles, and can see nary a thing without them."

I needn’t to make you upset, but that ‘poem’ is not only valuable, it is slightly cursed.

Wing: But only slightly. That's like saying “Oh, my great-uncle was only slightly murderous. He killed like, one...two guys, tops. Four. It was four. BUT ONLY TWO WERE EVER PROVEN”

I told you in the beginning—if the prophecy’s words were mixed up at all when retold, then the fate of Arybiana’s next Dark Time will come earlier then the predicted date. So let’s say, two years from now, Arybiana is doomed for a flood.

Wing: “[Sound of quills scratching on parchment]” "DAMMIT, GUYS, THAT'S JUST AN EXAMPLE. PUT YOUR DAMN PENS DOWN."

Mystic: PHFFFFFFF HAHAHAHA HAHDNJKDODFN Mystic: OMG MY BELLY OUW XD

If the word got around saying a hurricane or a tsunami was coming instead of a flood, the flood will arrive earlier than before, whether it was a day or a year.”

“That still doesn’t really make sense as to why you can’t spill the beans about this hero,” Velma retorted.

Wing: Jinkies!! Shaggy and Scoob ate the beans, that's why no one can spill 'em!!

“I cannot because of the all-too-real situation of misconstrued information. If knowledge of the Hero was mixed, then he shall arrive later—and by then, I am very afraid that Arybiana will be doomed,” the Arynan God stated.

Wing: Ohhh, so THAT'S why the Second Coming of Christ hasn't happened yet

Mystic: IM REALIZING JUST HOW STUPID THIS WHOLE SCENARIO IS

The Rulers were silent for a portion of the time.

Wing: I'm just imagining them taking a triangle out of a pie chart like "this is the silent portion"

Mystic: PFFFFFFF THAT'S PERFECT

Then, Rabbijack leader Kaylai spoke: “So, you are putting the pressure on us to get those very exact words out, correct?”

“Yes, I am indeed.”

“How about… we make a pact, then? So to keep true to the words of the Prophecy?” she inquired.

Her male counterpart, Rabbijack Emperor Freier, agreed. “I believe that is a splendid idea—that way, there shall be little doubt that the Prophecy will become lost within the mists of time.”

Wing: Look more mist

Mystic: its all a bunch of fucking misty omg Mystic: that's it that's all this country is

The fourteen other leaders nodded their heads and muttered their agreement. Then they turned to Shadow.

Wing: Just, bam. They were suddenly all shadows. Just like that

“I cannot see why not. I shall even put a slight enchantment on it as well, so you are even less likely to make that mistake,” he said finally.

Wing: "So should I just...should I just put this away?" said Emperor Jeff in the back, holding up his tape recorder, on which he had recorded the shitty prophecy. Wing: "KEEP THAT ANACHRONISTIC, SACRILIGEOUS WITCHCRAFT OUT OF HIS SHADOWYNESS'S PRESENCE," hissed some other royal or another; Jeff thought they all looked rather alike because everything was so fucking misty all the time. He wasn't really sure what his Empress even looked like. Too much damn mist.

Mystic: OH MY GODHSADFNM,KJAQWELBDJFGHJSAD Mystic: G\ Mystic: B R U H

With that, the High Rulers of Arybiana made what is now known as the Protection Pact,

Wing: Yo, I think high schools do that in Sex Ed classes

Mystic: PFFFFFFFFFFF Mystic: when i read that i was like "the fuck is it called the protection pact what are they protecting what the fuck"

meaning that no one could re-tell the Prophecy without knowing each detail of it. The enchantment was that, if the wrong words slip or a piece of the Prophecy wasn’t told, the Emperor or Empress that committed it will have their life cut short.

It didn’t take very long for that to happen.

Wing: Literally fucking why

Mystic: uh

Wing: Who was sitting in there rubbing their hands together evilly and thinking "heheheh I will endanger the lives of everyone by spreading false information at great personal risk to myself as well wahahaha!!!" Oh wait Everyone on the internet

Mystic: good question Mystic: BASICALLY Mystic: also another thing I noticed: apparently I really liked the amnesia trope back in 2013

The first to die after the Prophecy was Wolverine Empress Velma, who missed one crucial phase: instead of saying ‘from the ashes of a White Blossom,’ she said, ‘from the ashes.’ She passed away suddenly, the COD unknown.

Wing: The poor little fish had long loved her from afar, but his affections came to naught with the Empress's untimely death.

"I should have known that I could not dare to challenge fate," the cod wept, a tear escaping to join the silvery waters in which he lived, "for what time, what reason, would there ever come...for a Queen to love a fish?"

Mystic: Oh, right, I abbreviated "cause of death" to "COD".... which was pretty unnecessary xD

Wing: Emperor Jeff and Dear COD are my favorite characters now

Mystic: i am glad that you have found some love within my poorly executed story hahaha xD

After her mix-up, the rest of the Rulers began to die off.

Wing: Math class was forever changed, until the invention of calculators with built-in measuring functions Wing: And by the way:

"I shall even put a slight enchantment on it as well, so you are even less likely to make that mistake"

YOU SUCK, SHADOW. WORST GOD EVER.

Mystic: yeeahhhhhhhh, that probably wasn't the best idea there.

Aaaaand that’s all for now! Let me know if you enjoyed this spork of an original story. If it’s received well, I’d be glad to do it again soon!

#original story #badfic #bad fiction #mysticdelphox97 #through burning ashes #wingsporkhalo #THEY IS DYING RIGHT NOW #LITERALLY RIGHT NOW #emperor jeff and dear cod

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lifeasarandomdudeknowsit-blog · 7 years

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Entry #394 - Blinded By The Light

I'm making an attempt at not falling asleep in the afternoon. So far, it has prove quite difficult. But it is what most would begin to consider evening (even though it isn't even remotely dark outside), so I'm considering this a victory for now. Doesn't really help matters that I have a headache and it hurts to look at a computer screen. That makes the job hunt and writing this entry a lot more difficult than normal. Though, to be fair, writing today's entry would have proved to be difficult no matter what the circumstances.

I think the problem with the computer screens isn't so much that they're just difficult to stare at in general, but more having to do with the brightness, specifically when it comes to having white or other bright colors covering the majority of the screen. Like when writing this blog. I'm typing it up in a word processor (Open Office to be specific), and because the background is white, it's making the screen much brighter than normal. If there is a way to change the default color scheme to a dark background, I would absolutely use it. I end up having to do that with most websites as it is, especially if the site has a light colored text on a white background. I will never understand why so many websites use that color scheme. It makes the site practically impossible for me to read at all, and it forces me to use a third-party add-on for my web browser that allows me to force change the color scheme to include a black background. Of course, since add-ons are never perfect, it also breaks a lot of websites, completely obscuring images and many buttons. So I sort of have to deal with swapping between a site I can read but not use with total functionality and a site I can't read but can access all functions.

It's one of the reasons why I like websites that default to a black background so much. Or, at least, sites that offer a dark color scheme option. It's so much easier on my eyes, and it doesn't force me to use a third party extension. But those sites are, at least from my experience, in the minority. It probably is too much to ask of all websites, but at least having the option to switch to a native dark color scheme would really help out not just me, but a lot of people, I'm sure.

Okay, so I just did a quick Google search to see if anyone happened to come across a way to change the Open Office settings so that I could have a dark background and white text, and it turns out that it's actually extremely easy to change the color scheme of the program! It took me about ten seconds to change the background and text colors, and it is immediately so much easier to see, read, and type on here now that the background is black and the text is white.

So I learned something today, and it's going to make writing these entries a whole lot easier. If only I had discovered this function a year ago, it would have saved my eyes a lot of trouble and pain. But, hey, it's better for me to have discovered it at all rather than to have never discovered it at all and suffered in silence for the rest of my life. Not that I would have suffered in silence. Eventually I would have complained about it, decided to do some research, and find out how easy it was to change the color scheme. Besides, I rarely suffer in silence regarding anything anymore. I have this blog to talk about all the shit that's bothering me, and you would not believe how much it helps to just talk through an issue I'm having as I'm thinking about it. It's helped me on multiple occasions, and it's probably one of the few things I'm going to miss about writing in this blog every day. Then again, I don't necessarily have issues that need working through on a daily basis. Maybe every other day, and even then, I doubt I will need to dedicate a thousand or more words to resolving every issue that arises. Like this Open Office color scheme issue. I brought it up, did one minute of research, found out it's easily fixable, and fixed it. Problem solved in under two minutes. If only all of my (and the world's) problems could be solved so quickly and efficiently...

I finally got out and did some walking again today. Did two laps around the block. I ended up walking a fair bit slower than usual, which made the whole experience a bit less pleasant seeing as how it's about a thousand degrees outside and I was wearing all black clothing. But I did find myself surprisingly worn out after those two laps around the block, and it reminded me how out of shape I really am. I said a few days ago that I was going to do this walking thing every day, then promptly did not do any laps for like three or four days. But I did get out today, and I plan on doing so again tomorrow. Though my legs are suffering, I know I will feel better in the long run.

I also did a tiny bit of meditation this morning. Just a few minutes, but it really helps out more than I tend to realize. It definitely helps me center myself and prepare me for the remainder of the day, and it definitely assists me throughout the day, even during stressful situations. It's something I definitely need to do every day, since it has been nothing but beneficial to me the few times I have done it.

Well, that's probably going to do it for today's entry. I need to do a bit of job searching and applying before the day ends, so that's going to be a lot of fun switching from this nice dark color scheme back to the awful blinding white color schemes of the various websites I use. Oh well. At least when I use my laptop for job searching, I can tilt the screen back so it isn't TOO blindingly bright. Little victories!

#one thousand words every day #writing #life #websites #dark color schemes #exercise #meditation

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lorrainecparker · 6 years

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Useful Tools for Editors: Daylight Savings Time Edition

Soundly

Soundly is a cool entry into the world of sound effects that I’ve been trying out recently. It differs from where you might find sound effects in that you don’t interact with Soundly via a web browser. Soundly uses its own desktop app which is what takes it a notch above most other sound effects libraries and search tools. But Soundly is also a service that delivers high quality sound effects right to your project via their desktop app. To gain all the benefits of Soundly a $15 monthly fee is required but there are some benefits that come from a free account. Dig through the Soundly FAQ for answers to a lot of these questions you might be asking.

The Soundly desktop application puts a lot of power right at your finger tips. Above you can see a woosh search that yields results both from the Soundly Pro cloud as well as sounds indexed on my hard drive.

At its core Soundly is the full service but I think the application has a lot to offer as well. In addition to the premium Soundly effects you can also access Freesound.org via the app if you so choose. Soundly can also index and search your existing sound effects that many editors have sitting around to access at a moment’s notice. That puts lots of sound effects options all in one place. If you so choose part of your subscription can be up to 10 GB of online storage to keep your sound effects in the cloud. The waveform preview is a necessity for sound effects browsing and a “dock mode” places the app out of the way. One of my favorite things is being able to highlight just a piece of a found sound effect in the waveform and drag that out to save it or just drag it into your NLE (depending on how your NLE manages media).

Dragging the sound effect to save it is a fast way to get to using it in your project.

When digging through the Soundly website you see a lot of discussion about ProTools but video editors can get great use out of it as well. The big question is this: Does a dedicated video editor need to pay a monthly fee for sound effects? That is for the editor to decide and many (most?) will answer no but depending on what you do or if you can get your company to pay for it Soundly might we well worth the investment.

Worx4 X

If you know the name Marquis Broadcast then you probably know their tagline is moves media. That’s perfect for one of their newest products Worx4 X. This little utility adds a much needed media management function to Final Cut Pro X in that it can take an edit/sequence/timeline/project and copy only the media used in that edit/sequence/timeline/project to a new location. The biggest triumph of this relatively basic NLE function that FCPX has yet to include natively is that it can trim the media used in the edit/sequence/timeline/project to include only what was used in the cut, with user designated handles. I consider this one of the must-have utilities for FCPX if your media types are compatible with that Worx4 X can do.

There’s not a lot to the setup of Work 4 X. The main thing to consider (and what will have the most affect on media size) is the media handle size.

You can see the dramatic reduction in project size here with a trimmed sequence for a 30 second promo out of a much larger edit.

I’ve had good success with Worx4 X (working mainly with all ProRes .mov media) but it’s worth noting some of the limitations especially when it comes to trimming media files as there are some that it can’t trim. Check the information on the Mac App Store page for those and other limitations before you spend $45 on the application. There’s bit more info on this Marquis page but it would be nice it they could get all of the details and support for Worx4 X onto one single website. I don’t even see a link to their Worx4 support forums without googling it.

PrProBCC – Adobe Premiere CC 2018 Project Converter

I came across this little utility in a Premiere Facebook group and I haven’t tried it myself but when I read the description I did a triple-take. From the PrProBCC – Adobe Premiere CC 2018 Project Converter website:

PProBCC converts Adobe Premiere CC 2018 project files to be compatible with Premiere CC 2015.2 and Speedgrade 2015.1.

It’s a Windows app (though it says you can convert it to a Mac version) and I’m guessing there is a reason that Adobe doesn’t make backwards compatabilty as easy as this but since there is a free trial you can give it a whirl. The cost is around $10 US.

The creator NTown Productions has a few interesting products you might want to browse.

Storyboarder

Storyboarder from Wonder Unit is an amazing looking, FREE storyboarding app that looks like it’s a lot of fun to use. I say free but they do ask for your email to get a download link so just remember what they say about “free.”

This thing looks full of tools and the animation options will add another level of interactivity. The list of features is very extensive so I can’t help but keep wondering why it’s free. The developers address this very question in a profanity laden section of the website. This particular sentence is one that … well … a lot of people might not agree with: “Let’s be completely real – I’ve never known anyone working on dope ass shit to be paying for the software they use anyways.”

I know of and have worked on a lot of dope ass shit that was created on properly purchased and licensed software. If you don’t want to give them your email then hit up the direct download page (for Mac at least) but remember, install at your own risk.

SpeedScriber

SpeedScriber for Mac is officially out of beta and it’s worth mentioning once again as it’s by far the fastest and easiest tool that I’ve used for transcription and, more importantly, correcting transcription. That latter part can’t be glossed over. As amazing and accurate as cloud-based transcription can be if you need it perfect you still have to do some manual correcting and that’s where SpeedScriber holds a big advantage. The interface has been designed to make this tedious process as easy as it can be. It’s still not a fun process but a tool like SpeedScriber makes it both bearable and affordable.

I’ve used SpeedScriber both in the beta and now the shipping version for a few different articles here on PVC. The image above is from an upcoming interview about Lightworks. The hour + interview transcribed very quickly and I was able to get it corrected and ready for proofing in just a couple of hours. Plus there are integration with your NLEs. I tried out the Avid Media Composer integration recently using Avid’s script-based editing.

You don’t see Premiere Pro listed above but SpeedScriber has great Premiere integration as well. Click here for that look.

Creating a new account gets you 15 free minutes so you can try it for free.

Button Shortcuts

I always one to want to use the keyboard as much as I can but learning lots of keyboard shortcuts takes time. This little Mac menu-bar utility called Button Shortcuts provides a little dropdown menu with … button shortcuts. It’s free with a number of included apps but the interest to editors is the $3 Final Cut Pro X shortcuts and the $6 Photoshop shortcuts. I wish they’d add one for DaVinci Resolve!

The Cool Stuff in Premiere Pro

We’ve mentioned the book The Cool Stuff in Premiere Pro before but the second edition is special. It’s been updated with some new authors to help out the original author and Premiere expert Jarle Leirpoll and it’s now available in a massive 1200+ page print version. Personally I love the print version since I spend so much time on the computer I think it’s a great eye-break to use a book like this. True the print version isn’t searchable but it has a great Table of Content and an index so it’s very usable.

pic.twitter.com/P28mC0wq7p

— Scott Simmons (@editblog) October 31, 2017

War and Peace and Premiere!

— Michael Kammes (@michaelkammes) October 31, 2017

Give a close read to Jarle’s discussion on the book as it’s not a beginners book. You can get both an electronic and the print version ranging from just over $40 to $55. Check Jarle’s site for a discount.

Useful Tools and things from around the web

Do you like TEXT KERNING … then try Kern Type, the kerning game.

This is just a quick tip for a cool way to keep your media more organised in Avid Media Composer when working locally off a drive.

Clone and reverse *all* selected keyframes, even across several layers in @AdobeAE. Oh, and it’s pay-what-you-want.https://t.co/QActsJVkGY pic.twitter.com/yIUYCdshWS

— Paul Conigliaro (@conigs) November 2, 2017

People keep asking: what's the ideal loudness for online streaming ?

Here's my answer.https://t.co/UVcHtozxYY

— Production Advice (@prodAdvice) September 26, 2017

Free: Instagram Export Presets for Premiere Pro https://t.co/JW8penRu6N pic.twitter.com/JrlNyAGS4a

— Toolfarm Inc. (@toolfarm) July 14, 2017

Super excited to see how this 'Super Title' evolves https://t.co/0kHu95ycPi

via @JordyVandeput #PremierePro pic.twitter.com/ykvcdAfRYS

— Premiere Bro (@premierebro) May 30, 2017

If you haven't already downloaded you can find my all free Final Cut Pro X plugins here: https://t.co/FbSfTK4JSp #FinalCutProX #fcpx pic.twitter.com/V3TvFPfPWC

— Tapio Haaja (@tap5a) June 10, 2017

Video #Production: How To Spot A Tire Kicker FROM A Mile Away @microbudgeter https://t.co/6rCGkxckDX

— Jeff Greenberg (@filmgeek) October 31, 2017

2010: THE YEAR WE MAKE CONTACT The unsung sequel to Kubrick's masterpiece Check out the rare 9-minute BTS video:https://t.co/d7AEvlU2sD pic.twitter.com/APh2du8zMY

— Vashi Nedomansky (@vashikoo) June 20, 2017

How I love the movie 2010. And finally just for fun:

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‘Feud’ star Jackie Hoffman on being a character actor: ‘Aging isnt as frightening for us as it is for the pretty people’

Jackie Hoffman steals the show as Mamacita.

Image: Kurt Iswarienko/FX.

Youd have to possess a pretty colorful character, not to mention some serious acting chops, to steal scenes away from Jessica Lange while she’s channeling screen diva Joan Crawford. Fortunately, Jackie Hoffman has both.

From the moment she makes her first appearance in Feud: Bette and Joan, you cant take your eyes off Hoffmans tightly-wound but infinitely patient Mamacita Crawfords sternly Teutonic live-in housekeeper, valet, mother confessor and all around Gal Friday, who is never far from the movie stars side and always faithfully and fiercely on her side, even when Crawford believes no one else is.

Mamacita is, delightfully, a true-life construct: Anna Marie Brinke was Crawfords German-born maid/personal assistant, hired shortly before the actress began mounting her planned comeback in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? Brinke came recommended by her own daughter, one of her nine children and a maid to a Westhampton neighbor of Crawfords: she impressed the star with her preference for scrubbing floors on her hands and knees over using a mop.

SEE ALSO: ‘Feud: Bette and Joan’ is about so much more than Hollywood’s most infamous catfight

According to Crawford, the Latin-flavored nom de guerre was bestowed upon Brinke because the actress had just returned from a Brazilian vacation in Rio de Janeiro and obsessively added a -cita suffix to everything upon her return. Mamacita would remain in Crawfords service, often contentiously, until a fateful moment in 1974 when she decided to return to her native Germany because she was, as her grandson later related it, tired of having things thrown at her.

Hoffman has a work ethic to rival the real Mamacitas. A veteran of Chicagos fabled Second City comedy troupe who headlined many solo shows, she went on to become an award-winning force off and on Broadway, with star turns in productions including The Sisters Rosensweig, Hairspray, Xanadu and The Addams Family, with occasional forays to Hollywood for film and TV appearances in the likes of Kissing Jessica Stein, Garden State, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and 30 Rock.

And, as Mashable learned during our freewheeling conversation with the actress, in sharp contrast to Mamacitas minimalist approach to communication, shes a conversational tour de force as well.

You had us at hello with Mamacita.

Does Mamacita ever say hello? I dont think hello is a word that comes out of her mouth.

What got you excited about her when the role came your way?

Oh my lord have mercy! First of all, the audition material was so secret that all the names were changed, so they didnt use the name Crawford, they didnt use the name Mamacita. Then I found out later what it was and I had bought, in my 20s, a copy of Joan Crawfords [1971 advice book] My Way of Life, and the gay man inside me, pardon the expression, knew exactly what it was and fell in love with it.

I remember her talking about Mamacita, and then when I heard the characters name is Mamacita, at first I was a little freaked out, because I said, Oh my God, Im playing a Hispanic woman! And then I remembered I was, like, Holy crap Mamacita! Oh my God! There are no adjectives to describe how I felt at that point, just with the whole thing. I still cant get over it.

I was looking up some information on her, and Mamacitas German maiden name was in fact, Hoffman.

Yes, it was, spelled the Jewish way with two Fs and one N. Which is comforting, because I like to think she was Jewish because if not, judging from her age, she was a Nazi.

Did you go on treasure hunt looking for more bits and pieces of information about her once the job was yours?

Im not that dedicated an artist. My treasure hunt consisted of hitting a key on Google and looking at My Way of Life and just making it up on my own.

When you thought about who she was and how you wanted to play her, what was the key into her? When did that big lightbulb go off over your head?

I dont know the lightbulb may still have not gone off. I took German, clean, and putting up with Joan Crawford, and that was all I needed to know.

Youd read Crawfords book had you been a little bit of a student of her at any point?

Im more of a slob, but I remembered things like packing with tissue paper in the sleeves, and if I ever made a dinner with like fish and cauliflower, I always remember, [imitates Crawfords voice] Dont put two white foods on the same plate. Then, whenever I take a picture, I remember from reading this in her book: Always look up and to the right. So I am a student of Joans.

Mamacita is not wholly a broad comic caricature, but theres something inherently funny when we meet her, just in juxtaposition to Joan Crawford.

Right. I think she provides a relief from the intensity of those two dames.

It must have been fun to figure out the rapport with Jessica Lange, and get how they were going to coexist and be codependent together.

Yes, as Jessica got more comfortable, she got more abusive, unfortunately! So youll see that as we unfold. Like, Oh, this is an actress I can fuck with.

Did you give it back?

I set a boundary.

We do learn that theres more depth to Mamacita than we might have guessed early on. How quickly did you know that about her and were able to prepare for?

I knew going in that she was a human being and she had to be fully rounded. Im cheap whore of an actor: Im barely in this episode. What the fuck? But yeah, theres such great writing on the show, and the wardrobe is genius, the wig was genius, the writings great, and that all helped a lot.

What do you think her function in the story of Feud is, ultimately?

She kind of plays a husband/friend/sounding board for Joan. Shes probably the only person that Joan really is herself with, and really tells the truth to. So we learn a lot about who Joan really is through Mamacita, I think. Theres a couple of episodes where shes wasted and says that Im the mother she never had, and youre the only friend Ive had. It gets really, really touching near the end. Like the last scene we shot together, it was just beautiful. So I think Joan shows her a side that she doesnt show anybody else. So it helps to tell the whole story.

It comes through that Mamacita really cares for her, and wants to protect her.

Yes, she does. I would think I would have some love for her, to put up with all of the shit that I put up with.

Throughout your career, have you seen Hollywood or celebrity-type figures with this kind of person at their side? Has that been a reality that youve noticed?

Oh wow, what a question! I know Ive seen people with posses and entourages. I just remember, one of my first movie events was the film I did in, like, 2000, Kissing Jessica Stein, and I remember this woman walking around there was an actor, a very talented actor named Scott Cohen in that movie, and he had this woman going, Hi, Im Scotts publicist

Oh my God, really? People had people around them. The very first pilot I did, like in the mid-’90s, people said My assistant. Im like, Really? Really? You have a personal assistant? So its just a phenomenon that I still cant get over.

SEE ALSO: ‘Feud’ star Jessica Lange on the ways Hollywood is still failing women

Youve had a tremendously prolific career, but I imagine you havent had to deal with the genuine burdens of fame, a lot of the BS that people have to deal with because of a super high profile.

Yeah, thats kind of you: nobody knows who the fuck I am enough to make my life trouble.

Is that the best way to do it?

Its mixed. I did this film I got replaced on with Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher, and I saw the press literally chase them like Dodi Fayed and Princess Di though the tunnel, like, on foot. Im like, Holy crap! The shit they have to deal with. So I would imagine its kind of a mixed blessing. I get letters from 13-year-olds wanting a Playbill signed by people more famous than me.

You have some substantial stuff in Feud. Tell me what that was like to be able to dive deep. She doesnt disappear often. Shes always kind of right there.

God bless Ryan [Murphy] and Tim Minear and Gina [Welch] and those writer/producers, man. God bless them! Because … as there were plenty of days where Im opening doors and handing people beverages, and I was like, Fuck this! Then Im the maid! It could have been like that.

But theyre so smart, and they so want to get their message across, and I was honored, especially like, I think this interview coincides with episode 4, which is where Im encouraging the lovely Alison Wright, about her script, and telling her about the future, about women in cinema, and women in media. Im so honored that I got to tell that message, that I so badly, of course, want to tell. Its an important thing that has to be told.

Look what happened: its turning around a little, but here we are 50 years later, and still no one gives a fuck. Its still such a male world. To be part of Team Ryan Murphy, whos doing everything they can to fight that, is just such a great thing.

It really is shocking how much this fifty-year-old story is resonating, especially here in L.A., where people are watching the show and seeing women literally facing some of the same problems as they were in 1962 Hollywood.

Right. Thats how it was so kismet, because Jessica and I, we both wanted to tell that story. And Jessica and Susan, like, they have careers like Crawford and Davis, where they were like, Fuck you, and they kept working. But both Jessica and Susan were like incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful. For beautiful women, usually youre just, like, fucked. Its over. But they got past it. They went beyond it and they conquered.

When youre in the ugly, unfuckable category like I am, well, We didnt want to fuck her when she was younger, so we might as well hire her when shes older. I think character women at least have that, not that there are many roles. Aging isnt as frightening for us as it is for the pretty people.

Have people in the industry been that crass to you in those terms, in the way that, say, a Jack Warner expresses himself about how he feels about Crawford and Davis?

No, nobody says the word unfuckable, but we know thats what its all about. I put things in the crudest terms. Im the Jack Warner, really.

Have you noticed how popular Mamacita has become? Shes all over the Internet.

No, I have no idea. Im not all over the Internet. I look at my three Twitter followers, and a couple of 15-year-olds are like, Go, Mamacita! I have no idea.

I think the phrase that they would use is breakout character.

Thats excellent. Yes, on Twitter, I call her MamaTweeta.

You got to step back into mid-century Hollywood for a bit what was the best part of that experience?

The whole thing was like a five-month gay mans orgasm. I kept emailing my friends like, Im not allowed to show you anything, but trust me… We werent allowed to take pictures, but even like a jar that they put cotton balls in every object, it was just a breathtaking world. Every costume, the attention paid to every detail, and the beauty. It was ridiculous.

My filthy fingerprints are on every object and every item of clothes because I kept touching everything. Look at this! Look! And, when this was done, I was like two years old. So it would rush like, Oh my God, my mother had something just like this and I remember this when I was a little girl So it had that also.

Everybody in Hollywood is lining up hoping to work with Ryan Murphy right now. He and his team are championing these stories about women that other people seemingly arent telling. Were there any other interesting discoveries about joining Ryans troupe?

Wow that may be too intelligent a question for me! It was a great lesson. Im always huge [in my performance]. Im really theater folk, and Ive done film and television work, but its always like, Bring it down, bring it down, bring it down. And Ryan, from day one, hes like, No, dont make it that cartoony. Shes German, she has purpose and this is just from handing a Pepsi bottle to Jessica for four hours.

He really was reining it in, and you saw that, even larger-than-life characters like Crawford and Davis, theyre people, and he wants everybody to be really real, and I think thats one reason why the things he does are so effective. He really comes from a place of truth. He really made me a better actor for it.

Feud: Bette and Joan airs Sundays at 10 p.m. on FX.

WATCH: What film stars really think about Hollywood’s diversity issue