#AND the ones where he’s holding a gun. Our favorite little nerd looks so cool!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pomegranate-belle · 5 years

Note

happy new year! for the prompt game thing: mattfoggy, soulmates!au, fake dating, prompt 19? 😂

Fake Dating + Soulmates AU = Fake Soulmates AU, right?? Right?? Anyway this took too long because it spiraled out of control and now it’s 2k+ words and there’s like four or five more snippets of future scenes in this AU hiding in my notes app now, lmao

(Also, apologies to anyone reading this who’s named Stephanie, lol)

—

It all starts because Matt is a flirty bastard who gravitates towards women that are capital-T Trouble like a child in galoshes gravitates towards puddles. That is — eagerly, enthusiastically, and with precisely zero regard for the people in the splash zone.

Foggy, who has become a permanent resident of the splash zone, is best friends with him anyway, for some unfathomable reason.

Which is a mean thing to think. It’s not unfathomable. Matt is funny and whip-smart and a big nerd and he just gets Foggy, and his smile...

Anyway, life in the splash zone is worth it. Just, you know, it’s hard to remember that after your bestie’s date steals your wallet or gets you sexiled or stuck in the middle of a bar fight that is definitely not your fault. Or, apparently, tries to swap out the non-accessible petition form your (blind, by the way) best friend means to sign with a marriage certificate.

Yeah. Really. That’s the level of what-the-fuckery they’ve reached now.

“I think I need your help with this one,” Matt says with a grimace.

“You didn’t actually end up signing it, did you?” asks Foggy, because, well, with their luck who knows.

But Matt shakes his head.

“No, it’s just. Uh... I, um, don’t think she’s going to stop.”

Maybe Foggy should just smother himself with his pillow. Or smother Matt with his pillow. The second one seems like it would solve a lot more problems, since this mess is entirely Matt’s fault.

“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do about that, Matthew!” he demands. “You’re the one who decided to sleep with Stephanie Jenkins even after I warned you about her crazy eyes!”

“And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, ok? You told me so, is that what you want to hear?” Matt all but whines, burying his face in his arms just enough to leave his eyes peeking out.

He’s on his bed, head towards the footboard and rolled onto his stomach for maximum cuteness. His eyes aren’t quite pointed the right direction, but that hardly matters. Matt’s pleading expressions are more effective even when they’re aimed a little right of their target than anybody else’s could be from straight on.

“Ugh.”

“Foggy, come on.”

“Ughhhhh.”

“Foggy.”

Matt’s big, wide sad-puppy-dog eyes get impossibly bigger and wider.

“Ok, ok! Fine, I’ll help! Stop pouting, jeez,” Foggy concedes in the face of Matt’s pleading expression and general air of hopelessness. “But don’t expect me to come up with a plan or anything, she’s yourcreepy hookup.”

Matt’s posture changes immediately now that he’s gotten what he wants. He goes up on his elbows, grinning the grin that always means chaos is coming.

“Gotta pull out the big guns for this one,” he claims. “Even she’d have to back off over a soulmate match.”

Foggy, who has maybe spent the past year and a half idly checking his skin for a mark that could potentially tie him to Matt, feels his stomach flip uncomfortably.

“You’re not suggesting...” His throat goes dry. “You and I fake being...”

“Well, I need someone in on it with me who won’t get the wrong idea,” explains Matt, cheerful as can be while he crushes Foggy’s stupid heart into tiny little pieces.

Foggy swallows hard.

“Yeah, um. Makes sense,” he croaks out.

“Good,” says Matt, all business, sitting up fully and holding out a box. “I already borrowed some temporary tattoo pens off Marci, and she promised to keep our secret if we buy her drinks next weekend.”

“Why does Marci have temporary tattoo pens?” asks Foggy as he gets up off his own bed and accepts them, since it seems like the most innocuous of all the questions rattling around in his head.

“To take notes on her arms, apparently,” Matt replies.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

Marci’s the kind of person who could get away with slightly-eccentric behavior like that, mostly because she was dead terrifying. And also hot. She was the kind of person people wanted to step on them. Not that Foggy did. Or anything.

“Anyway,” Foggy said, maybe a little too loud, clearing his throat. “Where is it you want your soulmark, then?”

“Umm.” Matt tilts his head. “My... Arm, I guess? Isn’t that the best place to make it visible for Stephanie? I mean. Where did you think I wanted it, my butt?”

As Matt asks the question, his ears go a little pink, which offsets his sarcasm and is also hilariously adorable. Matt’s a cool guy, but he also spent like ten years surrounded by nuns, and every so often that becomes very, very clear. It’s definitely one of Foggy’s favorite things about Matt. Well, along with literally everything else about Matt. He grins.

“No offense, buddy, but you definitely are the kind of person who’d have one on your butt.”

“I am not!” laughs Matt. “What does that, what does that even mean?”

“Listen, Murdock, some people are just butt-soulmark people, that’s all. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, his voice still bright with humor. “It’s going on my arm.”

He shoves up the sleeve of his slightly-baggy sweater and holds out his right arm, palm up. So, Foggy digs around in the box of temporary tattoo pens until he finds one with black ink, and then settles next to Matt on the bed. Once he’s got himself in a good position, he accepts Matt’s arm, grabs it gently by the wrist to draw it down onto his lap.

And it’s like it finally sinks in, what he’s about to do. He’s going to literally mark Matt Murdock as his — never mind that it’s a farce to get rid of some creepy chick, or what Matt said about not getting the wrong idea. In a very real and physical sense, he’s about to draw something that will bind them together, at least in everyone else’s eyes. This goes way beyond bar napkin doodles, beyond wistful musings about Nelson and Murdock. People are going to see this mark and know—

They’re going to know what Foggy’s been trying not to know for a long time now. That he’s hopelessly, irrevocably, pathetically in love with Matt.

“What should it be?” Foggy asks, heart thundering in his chest as he holds the pen in one hand and the soft, pale expanse of Matt’s upturned arm in the other.

The smile on Matt’s face looks sweet and coy. A knock-out punch disguised as a cool, sweet drink. And as much as he pretends he’s a beer and cheap whiskey man, Foggy’s always been a sucker for the kind of fruity cocktails that knock him on his ass.

“Something fitting.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that,” mutters Foggy. “Speak now or I’m giving you an avocado.”

Matt tries halfheartedly to tug his arm away, laughing.

“No way, not an avocado. Something serious! Like... Scales of justice.”

“I see your hard-on for Lady Justice hasn’t diminished at all,” Foggy jokes, but begins drawing the scales anyway.

It takes enough focus that he’s able to override any feelings of embarrassment. And then he’s scrawling the same design onto his own skin, his left arm and Matt’s right pressed side-by-side as they lie across Foggy’s knee. Finally, it’s done and he caps the pen.

“Perfect,” he says, pleased, as he compares the two marks. “They’re identical. Suck on that, Mr. Trenkamp, I can too draw straight lines.”

Is it the height of maturity to invoke your hated fourth grade art teacher like ten years after he first insulted your mediocre art skills? No. But being the height of maturity is lame anyway, Foggy decides.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” jokes Matt, and his expression is so soft that Foggy has to look away before he, like, spontaneously combusts or something.

“Well, trust me, pal, those are some primo fake soulmarks.”

“Thanks, Fog.”

Matt nudges Foggy’s shoulder with his own, then holds out a loose fist. Knocking their knuckles lightly together, Foggy can’t help the giddy smile on his face.

“Anytime, Matt.”

—

They don’t get a chance to show off their marks until two days later, when they’re strolling across campus towards the dining hall and Matt pauses apropos of nothing and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, juggling his white cane a little in the process. He then proceeds to fumble for Foggy’s wrists and roll his sleeves up too.

“Matt, what—”

“Shh, act natural!” Matt mutters, knocking his cane lightly against Foggy’s shoe, and then pressing a warm hand to his back to get him walking again.

And, honest to god, not a minute later up walks Stephanie Jenkins. Foggy takes a good moment to consider that maybe Matt’s lady-radar is actually real. In the next, Matt is stretching his arms (and his cane, the goof) above his head, right wrist crossed in front of the left so his fake soulmark will be in sight. Stephanie jerks to a stop, eyes trained on it. After the stretch, for which Foggy very carefully avoids looking at Matt to see if his shirt rides up, Matt folds up his cane and holds out his hand, fingers curled slightly, the way he usually does when he’s asking for Foggy’s arm for guiding purposes.

“Fogs?”

Well, it’s a cue if Foggy’s ever seen one, so he presses his arm into Matt’s grip, making sure the underside of his forearm is turned up for Stephanie’s sake. Her eyes go huge. Foggy gets the feeling that, no matter what he’s trying to save Matt from, he’s going to feel like an asshole if she cries. Thankfully, her face turns puce and angry instead. She’s probably thinking something unflattering about Foggy’s suitability for a guy like Matt but, well. Fuck her anyway.

Just to nail in his point, apparently, Matt traces his free hand up Foggy’s shoulder and into his hair, brushing a long lock of it behind his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

In all honesty, Foggy pretty much forgets all about Stephanie Jenkins after that. Just continues on towards the dining hall, narrating on autopilot in between long bouts of staring at Matt with a racing heart and pathetic cow eyes.

—

The two of them get a frankly embarrassing number of ‘I knew it’s from their classmates, go nearly broke keeping Marci Stahl in vodka, and kiss four more times (three on the cheek, and one chaste, close-mouthed peck on the lips that nearly stops Foggy’s heart).

Also, Foggy gets Stephanie Jenkins’ crazy-eyes glare for three straight weeks. He loves every second of it. Suck it, Stephanie Jenkins, he thinks every time. Which is, yeah, probably a little mean, but hey, this is the lady who tried to take advantage of Matt’s blindness to trick him into (admittedly, a definitely not legally enforceable) marriage. Foggy doesn’t have an ounce of sympathy for her.

Though he risks jinxing himself, Foggy does eventually ask how long Matt thinks the ruse should go on. When Matt decides they should keep up the act until at least the end of the semester, Foggy tries not to agree too eagerly. After all, he’s not supposed to get the wrong idea. Eventually Matt’s heartbreaker ways will win out and he’ll want to find a hot girl to kiss. He’s trusting Foggy with an awful lot, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to... To, you know, fall in love with him or anything. But they’ll still always be best friends. That’s what really matters.

—

After three months, Foggy is used to seeing the fake soulmark on the inside of his left arm when he showers. It doesn’t make his heart squeeze anymore. He no longer has to remind himself that it’s still fake even when soap doesn’t wash it away — all it would take is a little makeup remover, after all. He knows that. It’s fake even though it’s there in a form of semi-permanence. Just another fact of life.

But this particular morning he stops cold, because there’s something on the inside of his right arm too. A perfect, identical mirror image of the scales of justice on his left.

Maybe he was so tired he drew another one on the wrong arm when refreshing the fake soulmark. Maybe. But probably not. Foggy takes slow, deep breaths until the end of his shower. Then he dries off, dresses — pulling on his shirt with the sleeves rolled all the way down — and hurries back to the dorm room for the box of makeup remover wipes they keep next to their sink now.

It’s fine, he tells himself. It’ll wash off. It’s ok. His hands are trembling so hard that he has to squeeze the wipe to keep hold of it and some of the remover solution drips onto his left arm. The fake soulmark there begins to smudge.

The one on the right stays stark and perfect.

“That’s not funny,” Foggy tells it, voice shaking, but though he scrubs at it until the skin’s raw — with the wipe, with hand sanitizer, with isopropyl — it doesn’t come off.

Eventually he’s got to face the facts. His dumb heart has somehow conned his body into producing a genuine, grade-A soulmark for his fake soulmate.

He is so monumentally fucked.

#mattfoggy #writing #thanks for the ask!#ellicelluella

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osmw1 · 5 years

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Crowbar Nurse Chapter 14 — Vows of Love and Banging Against the Wall (No, Not Like That)

“Three hours left until game over, eh?”

Kiryū looked as if he were lost in thought. Difficult thoughts.

“Since you’re so familiar with this game, Sera, lay it out for us. What’s our best plan of action? After all we’ve been through to train our army and to gather munitions, it’d be a waste to simply ditch them here. But if evacuating to the dating sim world is the better choice, then so be it.” “Hmm, what should we do…?”

I too had to collect my thoughts. Now that we had all cooled off, it made it a little easier to think.

“… It would be simple enough to go to the dating sim world. However, we would leave DMC3 in its ‘bad ending’, meaning that we might possibly never be able to return here.” “Perhaps. But since the game would be finished… the game might start from the beginning again.” “Yes, of course that’s possible as well.”

Elizabeth had a point. The game may very well restart.

“Once thing is for sure though. Now is our only chance if we want to save this world. The town may be destroyed by thermobaric missiles next time we come back. Not to mention that the player ‘You’ who triggered the ending might not want to simply give it all up either.”

Saying that, I then turned to the two of them with all seriousness.

“And so, let me suggest an idea. Let’s rewrite the ending.” “Whaddya mean?”

I nodded at Kiryū, acknowledging his curiosity.

“Before the thermobaric bombs drop on Confi City, we will go trigger the ‘truck ending’ conditions. If we manage to pull that off, then we can avoid the ‘thermobaric missile–strike bad ending’.” “… And on the chance that we don’t manage to?”

Elizabeth spoke with such nervousness, I could almost see her quivering as I replied.

“… In the case that we can’t find ‘You’ within three hours, then we would probably have no choice but to abandon them. If we can’t get the truck ending to start, then we’ll immediately jump to the dating sim world.” “Hmm… Well, it’s worth givin’ it a shot.”

Kiryū was willing. That leaves just one.

“If we don’t, it might come to bite us in our asses when we get back home. We’ll have to live with those demons, y’know?” “… Heh, I suppose so. Okay, then.”

She responded with a slight chuckle, but still evidently nervous.

“Yes, you are correct. It is obviously wrong to not save a life when we have the ability to do so. … The opposite was true for my last time. It was as if killing each other was the obvious answer. I didn’t want to die, so I believed that abandoning others was the correct choice. But that isn’t right, is it? … Truthfully, I’m extremely grateful that it was you two whom I met in this world.” “And here I thought your apprehension was towards us.”

I had hoped that cracking jokes would ease her if just a little.

“We’ll be alright, Elizabeth. It’s not like what we’re trying to do is really that difficult. All we have to do is run over a couple of zombies with a truck on our way out. If we really do find it an impossibility, then… yes, unfortunately, we may have to give up on saving ‘You’. But in that case, the next world we’ll hop to is a visual novel dating sim for girls. Sure, we don’t know which exact game it is yet, but think about it. We’ll have so much Kiryū-level eye candy to feast on!”

Elizabeth held back another quiet laugh as Kiryū gently rapped the back of my head with his knuckles.

We then spent about thirty minutes to talk over our truck ending action plan and equip our hellish army. Elizabeth didn't have the stamina to even be in a shouting match, let alone a full-on brawl with zombies, and so we delegated her to hold down the fort. With the troops standing guard outside, we figured she should be safe in the safehouse. That left Kiryū and me with a handful of soldiers. Our plan was to head to the end of Uptown, gang up on the gun shop owner miniboss, and then steal his grenade launcher. That’s where we were at now: duping the nade launcher at the gun range.

“Ah, jeez, I could really go for a drink right about now.” “I thought you’d be pukin’ already seein’ how much you just guzzled down.”

Kiryū poked fun at me, but I shook my head no.

“That stuff doesn’t hit the spot. It tastes exactly like booze, but you can’t get drunk off it at all.”

A disappointed sigh crept out from my lips.

“I wish I had some of the real stuff. That way, I can drink to forget all about this scary stuff and hurry home to snuggle in bed.” “… Are you scared?”

I couldn’t help but feel a little irked by his question as he handed me more launchers.

“Of course I am. How could I not be? You know we’re making a huge gamble for this city that’s potentially going to be wiped off the face of the earth in just a few hours, right? Of course I would rather just say ‘screw it’ and curl up in a blanket.” … But there’s no way I could possibly do that.”

I heaved the launchers into the buggy and then a deep, heavy sigh. I don’t know what he was thinking at the moment, but Kiryū looked straight at me before speaking.

“… You really are strong.” “As if. I’m not in the slightest.”

I brushed him off with another shake of the head.

“… If I seem in anyway strong, that’s a misunderstanding on your part, Kiryū. I’m wracked with anxiety over what if I made the wrong choice for us. Because the truth is I’m not strong at all, but that’s why I’m trying my damnedest to put on a brave face.” “Even if it’s just you putting on a brave face, I can’t count how many times you’ve saved me in this world.”

My thoughts froze as my eyes bulged wide. Still, I had to keep my hands moving. I began tying the extra launchers onto the soldiers with makeshift ropes. But as I finished, Kiryū faced me directly.

“… I saved you, huh? You sure like to exaggerate.” “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I haven’t. We’ve been in a hopeless situation ever since the beginning. But I’ve managed this far without losing my marbles was all because I had you with me.” “… It’s not like you’re okay just because you’ve met me. You’re always so calm and calculated in your every move.” “Think back to when I questioned Elizabeth. Do you still think so?” “Well… I mean…”

I looked down at the ground before I knew it. I mean, he’s right. He did lose his cool that time. Kiryū scratched the back of his head as he continued, as if he were felt awkward or embarrassment.

“… Like I said before, there’s no one who understands this all as well as you do, someone who’s a total zombie game nerd. Maybe you’ll be right. Maybe you’ll be wrong. But whatever it may be, you’ll have our unconditional support in whatever you choose to do. And being here in this strange, weird world, I don’t blame you one bit for thinking it’s scary. But there’s nothing to be too afraid of either… we’ll be alright. We’re in this together.”

He finished speaking by gently placing his hand on top of my head. It was obvious that Kiryū didn’t mean to hit on me, but rather simply wanted to give me a pep talk.

I remember thinking the same when we first met: Kiryū’s hand sure is warm…

I blinked as I felt the warmth of his palm. Whether it was intentional or not, it brought me composure, allowing me to think. … To think about how Kiryū speaks. How he can’t help but point out all technical inaccuracies. How he’s just a little too serious and a tiny bit tactless. I had the same thought before I fainted, but I’m absolutely certain I’ve met Kiryū before. No. I’ve heard his voice before. I thought about it at length and came up with only one possible explanation.

“… Umm, Kiryū?” “What’s up?” “I… I just had a sudden thought.” “Mhm?” “Kiryū, you mentioned you were a game dev, right? In Shinjuku?” “… Yeah, that’s right.”

His affirmation had a tinge of curiosity. Curious as to why I brought it up now. I looked into his eyes.

“There’s something about the way you speak that gives me a nagging feeling that I’ve heard your voice somewhere before. And, we were just talking about it earlier, but I said my friends and I like to hang out and play dating sims together.” “Yeah.” “Of course, that includes Rainbow Dreams as well.” “…” “It somehow came across my mind just now. My friend who’s a big fan of Kiryū Sōichirō had once showed me this video. I remember her getting super excited about how this game dev who was rumored to be Kiryū’s model posted that video. About a year or two ago, a video about a dating sim developer playing the party game Werewolf came out, right?”

His mouth may be closed, but Kiryū’s eyes were locked open. It seemed like I had hit the nail on the head. I leaned in close to his ear and whispered for confirmation.

“Hey, Kiryū. Perhaps your real name is…” followed by the name of the game dev’s in that video.

“… That’s me.”

He muttered and slumped his shoulders in disappointment or so I thought… but his bright red cheeks and banging the wall suggested he was more so mortified than anything. The walls of the shooting range were shaking by now, yet he kept punching with all his might. It made me wonder if he could tear down the building by himself. I suppose it was extremely shameful for his name to be doxed. Looking at bashful Kiryū somehow made me embarrassed too. I chuckled out loud before I could catch myself.

“Ahaha… I had a hunch, but I didn’t think you’d admit to it either. Oh, wow, Kiryū, so you’re the one who made Rainbow Dreams, hey? How about those rumors about you being the model for Kiryū? Is that true too?” “N-No way! I have nothing to do with that game! I was simply hired to do the programming for it, so I have nothing at all to do with the writing or art! The character designers or producers used my likeness without my permission is all!” “You are involved in the game then? That’s so impressive and amazing. It’s the first time I’ve met someone who was part of the team that made one of my favorite games!” “Gah…!”

Kiryū flinched as he saw my beaming face. Seemingly, he didn’t expect me to be so wowed by it all.

“… It’s a visual novel dating simulator catered to a female audience, y’know?” “I’m familiar.” “But it was made by a dude.” “And that’s super cool!” “Y-You think that’s… cool?”

Kiryū scrunched up his face, bewildered by the fact that anyone would think it was a positive thing.

“I think it’s honest work… But you don’t seem to like it very much, do you?” “… I didn’t have much of a choice; it was the only work I could get.”

I blankly blinked at his response as he avoided eye contact with me.

“No choice? Oh, that’s right. You seemed to know quite a bit about VR games, FOV, haptic feedback, and stuff like that. Was that what you really wanted to do instead?” “Oh, that… I’ve just been reading a lot into it lately is all. Not that I’m an expert in it or anything. I’ve made a little test project before, but I haven’t made any published any games like that before. … Making your own game with your own abilities then putting your name out there in the world… It’s a really daunting thing, y’know?” “Wow… But you’re still making Rainbow Dreams. I still think it’s amazing how you’re a part of this game that’s beloved by so many people. … Oh, Kiryū! When we get back, do you think I could get your autograph? I wanna brag about you to my friends!” “Whaaaaaat?!”

This time, he was flabbergasted but also looked as if he hated the very concept of what I had just said. I panicked and tried to take back my words.

“I’m so sorry! You don’t have to. It’s just that… I thought it’d be something nice to look forward to when we make it safely back home. But now that I think about it, you’re embarrassed by this all, right? Sorry for asking for such a weird favor. Let’s just forge—” “No, that’s alright. I’ll do it.” “Huh?” “… I’m nobody famous or nothin’, so it’s not like my signature is particularly exciting or what have you. But if it makes you happy, I’ll sign as many things as you want. So, let’s all get out of this together alive. That’s a promise, Sera.” “… I promise!”

I didn’t think I would’ve been so overcome with emotion, but I found myself jumping into Kiryū’s arms. After a brief moment of shock, he dryly laughed aloud as he patted me on my back. … And though we were surrounded by the unstoppable hellish army lugging around giant grenade launchers, we paid them no mind at all.

—We’re definitely making it out of here alive.

Whatever paralyzing fear I felt in my very core had disappeared in an instant.

■Werewolf Also known as Mafia, Werewolf enjoyed a brief fad where game developers and gamers would gather in person and stream themselves playing together. Kiryū is presumed to have most likely been roped into playing. As it was an utmost humiliating memory for him, Kiryū seemed to have tried everything in his powers to scrub the video off the internet but to no effect.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /next/

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thelighthousemp3 · 6 years

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in my head, i play a supercut of us (all the magic we gave off)

prompt from @lady-shipper: Hiii! I don't know if u're still accepting prompts,but can u write something about Gina and Rosa having to share a bed in one of those cop cons?

read on ao3

“All right!” Jake calls, sauntering through the bullpen with a duffel bag over his shoulder. “Cop con!” He pumps a fist into the air and grins. Amy follows close behind him, wearing an oversized red hoodie that presumably belongs to Jake. She smiles sleepily as they walk into the bullpen.

“Great,” Gina says from her own desk. “A place where all of you get together and brag about what you can do, which is someone anyone can do. O-M-G, ‘NYPD, you’re under arrest’ like even my baby can say that.” She scrolls through her phone, not sparing the detectives another look.

“Loosen up, Gina. You know you’re gonna have fun,” Terry says.

Rosa yawns. “Why are we here so early,” she mutters as Captain Holt steps out of his office in full uniform.

“Hello, squad. As you all know, today is cop con, and we will be taking a bus to arrive to our destination shortly. However, there is something that I need to tell you,” Captain Holt says. “I was unable to book hotel rooms for each of you individually, so we will be pairing up.”

“Well, that’s not a problem,” Terry says.

“All right, then,” Captain Holt says. He pulls out a small slip of paper and holds it up to read. “Jake and Amy, naturally, will be sharing a room. Your room is the only one that has a single bed,” he says, looking up at them.

“Not a problem! We’re married!” Jake says, popping open the top of an energy drink.

“The rest of the rooms have two beds, so none of you will be inclined to share, unless you would like to,” Captain Holt says.

“I think we’re good,” Rosa says with an untasteful expression on her face.

“Jeffords, you are with Boyle. Diaz, you are with Gina.”

“Dope,” Gina calls from her desk. Rosa shrugs, examining a nail with a nonchalant expression.

“I mean, it could’ve been worse, so whatever,” she says, lifting the shoulder strap of her bag slightly. She takes a sip of her coffee and yawns slightly.

“What do you mean, Rosa? We would’ve been great room buddies! I could show you all of the healthiest sleeping positions—” Charles starts saying. Rosa holds up her hand to stop him from talking.

“The bus is leaving in a few minutes.” Captain Holt tucks the room assignments back into his pocket. “We should start heading out now,” he instructs, and the Nine-Nine follows him out of the building.

“Cop con!” Jake shout excitedly once they are outside. He jumps slightly into the air. “Come on, guys! Why aren’t you all super excited?” he asks, looking around the weary group.

“It’s too early in the morning for this, babe,” Amy says, squeezing his arm. “I’m going to sleep on the bus.”

“But what about all of the sing-along songs?” Jake protests, climbing up the steps of the bus and hopping on. Rosa rolls her eyes and follows him. Gina trails close behind her with a plush neck cushion hanging on one shoulder. She adjusts her sunglasses and doesn’t take her eyes off of her phone as she slides into a seat next to Rosa.

“I’ll sing-along with you, Jake!” Charles quickly volunteers. Jake high-fives Charles and they start conversing about the songs that Jake had chosen.

Rosa leans her head against the window, staring outside. Next to her, Gina starts playing a game on her phone.

The first hour of their drive passes quickly. Amy and Terry are both asleep, and Jake and Charles have thankfully stopped singing. Captain Holt is looking at a map near the front of the bus. Rosa lifts her head. She hadn’t really been sleeping as much as staring out of the window with apathy. She can’t tell if Gina is asleep or not. Her phone is in her lap. The screen is still on, but Gina’s sunglasses hide her eyes, therefore hiding whether she is sleeping or not.

Rosa stretches her arms up. She isn’t claustrophobic, but there is something about being trapped in the window seat of a bus for two hours that really irks her.

A little while later, they stop for a bathroom break per a request from Charles. Rosa gets off of the bus to stretch her legs. When she gets back on the bus, she discovers that Gina has taken the window seat. Rosa sits down next to her, not minding this at all.

As the bus starts to move, Gina whips out her phone. “3… 2… 1!” she counts down, and then presses something on her phone. From the speakers of the bus, some Beyoncé song starts playing. Rosa hides a smile as Gina sings along to it.

They finally arrive at the cop convention. “The 7-5 is throwing a great party,” Jake says. “And we’re invited!! You now, as the coolest cops in New York!”

“Neat,” Rosa says appreciatively.

“So, uh, Captain,” Amy starts, “Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“I may come in for a little bit,” Captain Holt informs her. “Afterwards, I will be retiring to my own room for some rest.”

Gina looks around. “Look at all of these cool gadgets!” she says ecstatically, reaching for an electric remote. “Look; I’m flying a drone!” She pushes a few buttons on the remote, and a white drone flies inches above Amy’s head. Amy frowns and ducks.

“Give me that, Gina,” Terry says, grabbing the remote from Gina. “Look at this, guys! Terry’s got a drone!”

“Nerds,” Rosa says, rolling her eyes. “C’mon, Jake, let’s go look at the robots.”

“I’m coming too!” Charles yelps, following Jake. “You’re not gonna replace me with some robot that doesn’t even have emotions!” They head over to another side of the convention, leaving Gina, Terry, Amy, and Holt.

“Soo… uh, Captain! You wanna go check out the… stuff over there?” Amy asks hopefully. Captain Holt shrugs.

“I do not see why not,” he says. “Perhaps so.”

“So, Terry, you wanna ditch these losers and go lift weights or something? Preferably with your shirt off?” Gina cajoles. She crosses her arms and looks up at him.

“No!” Terry frowns. “Come on, Gina.”

Gina shrugs. “I gave it a shot,” she says, turning over to a different table and looking at some other… police gadgets. She examines something for a few moments before sighing loudly. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Gina, it’s like 11 AM,” Terry says.

“You think I don’t know that? Bye, Ter-Bear. See ya at the party,” Gina says, sauntering away. And indeed, she disappears for a few hours. No one knows where Gina is when they have lunch, or when they play truth or dare with the 8-6.

Before long, it is time for paintball. Paintball is Rosa’s favorite part of cop-con. She absolutely loves being able to shoot at dumb officers from other precincts without any repercussions. Rosa has been looking forward to this for exactly 306 days (yes, she counted,) and she’s ready to kick some ass.

What she isn’t expecting is for a pellet of green paint to explode over her side.

“Ahaha! Gotcha, Rosa!” a familiar voice bubbles. Rosa angrily whips around.

“Gina! Where did you come from? We’re supposed to be on the same team! You’re not supposed to shoot me!” Rosa bursts. Needlessly to say, Rosa is very passive-aggressive when it comes to a good game of paintball.

Gina grins. “Oh, Rosa.” She cocks her paintball gun up and quickly takes aim. A split second later, Rosa’s hair is covered in pink paint. “You look cute with pink hair.”

“You are the worst,” Rosa says, storming away.

The next time she sees Gina is of course at the party. Gina has clearly had a few drinks. She walks up to Rosa and touches her hair. “It’s not pink anymore?” Gina frowns.

“Yeah, I washed the paint out,” Rosa says. She tries to turn a cold shoulder towards Gina for the recent paintball events, but her voice softens a little bit when she sees the pout on Gina’s lips. There was just no staying mad at Gina Linetti.

Nearby, Jake is singing karaoke while somehow sitting on Terry’s shoulders. They sing along loudly to Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story’ without a care in the world. Charles video tapes them from behind.

Judging Amy’s current state, it is clear that she has had three drinks. She jumps on top of the bed and waves her arms to the music with a wild expression on her face.

Rosa has resolved to having only one drink. Her head is already slightly throbbing (probably because of the paintball Gina hit her in the head with earlier that day) and she doesn’t want to make it any worse.

“Oh my god, look, Captain Holt,” Gina says. Rosa turns around to see Captain Holt sitting in a chair, observing the ongoing events. He takes a sip of beer as he watches Jake and Terry with a stoic expression on his face.

The party ends some time after that when most people have tired out. “Room buddy,” Charles hiccups, grabbing Terry’s arm. Jake and Amy leave with their arms around each other, waving goodbye to the mostly empty room.

“C’mon, Rosie, let’s go,” Gina murmurs. “I’m tired.”

Being the more sober one, Rosa shrugs and leads Gina out of the room. Gina heavily leans on Rosa’s arm while they walk through the halls in search of their room.

Rosa finally locates it a few minutes later. She unlocks it and the two spill into the hotel room.

“A bed,” Gina mutters hoarsely, walking over and collapsing on it. Rosa looks around in confusion. There should be two beds, not one…

“Where’s the other one?” Rosa asks.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Rosie,” Gina mumbles, attempting to kick her shoes off.

“No, that can’t be right,” Rosa says, shaking her head. She gazes around the room in vain search of another bed, even though there clearly isn’t one. “I’m gonna go ask Holt,” Rosa mutters, turning and leaving the room.

Half an hour later, she returns in defeat. “I thought maybe our room got switched with Jake and Amy’s, but no! There aren’t any other rooms with two beds, so we’re stuck with one,” she rants.

Gina looks up from her phone. “Oh, hey, I was just drunk-texting Kamila Al-Jamil. So we gotta share a bed. No big deal, Rosa. We’re adults.”

“Yeah?” Rosa sighs. “You are so drunk right now, Gina.”

“I know,” Gina grins, sinking into the pillows. “But this isn’t some fanfiction, Rosa. This is real life. We can handle this without falling in love or something stupid like that,” she laughs.

“Yeah. That would be so dumb; falling in love with you,” Rosa mutters, heading to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Rosa emerges wearing a tank top and a pair of sweatpants to discover Gina lying on the bed with her phone on top of her face. And she’s not lying on one side of the bed; she’s sprawled across it.

“Gina!” Rosa says, making futile attempts to push Gina over to the other side of the bed. Gina mutters something intelligible under her breath and turns over. Rosa sighs in defeat and climbs onto the bed. She lies down in the little space that she has and does her best to fall asleep.

Rosa jolts awake a few hour later, in the middle of the night. Gina is breathing slowly, less than inches away from Rosa’s face. Her body is curled up against Rosa’s, and she radiates warmth. “Gina!” Rosa hisses softly. Gina doesn’t wake up.

Rosa thinks about what to do for a few minutes. In the end, she decides to let Gina sleep and get some rest herself. They were grown women. They could handle this.

But Rosa can’t sleep. She finds herself thinking about Gina. Specifically, the chemistry that she has with Gina. Gina was… dynamite. She was gorgeous. And if they really wanted to, they could make a great couple.

Rosa tries to shake these thoughts from her head, but the thought of kissing Gina fills her mind. She lifts her head and looks at Gina, who is peacefully asleep. Rosa drops her head back into the pillows and sighs.

A few hours later, she’s shaken awake by none other than Gina. “Hmmm?” Rosa groans, opening her eyes.

“Hey,” Gina whispers. “Is it really weird that I kinda wanna kiss you right now? If you say no, then a robot has possessed my body. Either that, or I’m still drunk and not in the right state of mind,” Gina says. Rosa can’t help but notice the fact that Gina’s lips are mere inches away from hers.

“Weirdly, it’s not that weird,” Rosa mutters, wrapping her arms around Gina’s back and pulling her into a long overdue kiss.

“I guess this is a fanfiction,” Gina grins after they pull apart. She collapses down next to Rosa and snuggles against her. Rosa smiles in the dark and pulls Gina into a tighter embrace.

They don’t speak about it at all the next morning, until Gina appears at breakfast with a pair of dark sunglasses on her face. “Hey, guys. Rosa and I are eloping.”

#lina writes #my fic #my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #rosa diaz #gina linetti #dianetti #stephanie beatriz #chelsea peretti #heads up im still taking prompts

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donutpwns · 7 years

Text

Little Brother Blues - Part 1

\o/ - Part 2

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It's hard having Ford back; harder than Stan had been expecting. Sure, he'd figured there'd be some pain, maybe some fighting because of what happened thirty years ago, but he thought Ford would at least be grateful and that would be a foundation for them to pick up from. Stan had spent 30 years regretting that night and working with a determination to make it up to his brother, but none of that seemed to matter. Ford still hated him and, after having a home for so long, Stan would be out on his ass again at the end of the summer.

It wouldn't be as bad this time, he told himself. He's already started collecting the various stashes of money he has hidden about the house and buried in the yard. He has enough squirreled away to take care of himself for a while. He'd have more if the Shack hadn't been destroyed so many times but eh, small price to pay for the kids. Hell, maybe he'll open up another museum here in town just to piss his brother off. It makes him grin to think of tourists stopping by while Ford is trying to do his stupid nerd stuff and having to tell them that the Mystery Shack has moved.

He's thinking about how mad that would make his brother while he counts the money in the register. It's been a slow day; Stan really needs to come up with some new attractions. There's still money to be made by the end of the summer, after all. Maybe he could try passing Gompers off as a demon again? Mabel could make a costume probably better them he could; threading a needle was a pain with his eyesight. Hm. Might be time to go to the dump for supplies and inspiration.

He's debating the merits, and morality, of taking the kids to the city dump to scavenge when they burst through the front door. They look panicked but that's sort of the norm for them these days. He bets himself that they're involved with something to do with the gnomes again; the little bastards have been getting into his trash more than the boy band that lived in the woods.

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper runs inside while Mabel stays in the doorway, continuously looking back and forth from the outside to in and bouncing on her heels. Stan shoves the register drawer closed just as the kid reaches the counter. “Something bad happened!”

“How bad? Finally found something Ford couldn't handle, huh?” the kids had been out helping his brother with something or another, a secondary defense to the weird barrier around the Shack. Which, speaking of, where was Ford? Stan has to squash a rising panic that something happened to Ford because if something had then he deserved it because he's a self-important ass and instead embraces anger at the idea that Ford put the kids in danger. “Where’s Stanford?” If he put them in danger, Stan's going to rescind the permission for the kids to spend time with him so fast.

“He's outside but that’s the problem, he’s—"

Stan is already out the door before Dipper can finish, because okay, maybe he's a little worried about his brother being hurt. Shut up, no one can prove anything. Mabel runs ahead of him and he follows her around to the porch where his old couch sits, upon which there's a pile that vaguely resembles Ford's stupid trench coat. Like he was some kinda cool sci-fi hero. Stan hated it. And then Stan sees a muss of brown hair poking out from under it and the whole thing moves with a groan.

The jacket falls into his lap as he sits up and rubs at his eyes. His sweater is comically oversized on him, the sleeves hanging past his hands. But Stan doesn't need to see them to know what they look like. He knows the face that is squinting up at him—what happened to his glasses?—by the freckles that still stand out and the familiar messy hair.

“So, uh, this is a new one.” he says and looks back at where the kids are standing a few feet back. Mabel looks torn on being excited or terrified while Dipper has landed firmly on the latter. Kid is twitching up a storm. Stan works to keep his tone even and composed because honestly weirder things have happened to him this summer. This is probably around the fighting dinosaurs level of weirdness in his life. “Anyone wanna tell me why Ford is a runt again?”

“We were looking at the size crystals cause we thought maybe we could make the barrier bigger but then—” Dipper starts but Mabel cuts him off,

“There was this HUGE monster and Grunkle Ford was all ‘watch out kids, this is a thing and blargh!’ and he shot it with his gun but it was all ‘eh whatever’ and then it bit him and we threw rocks at it until it went away!” Mabel is bouncing again, miming throwing something and then an explosion which she makes the noise for. Stan is pretty sure it’s only to enhance the story and in other circumstances would be very proud of her. “And then—”

“Then Ford said he was fine and passed out. Mabel ran back to get the golf cart so we could bring him home—”

Mabel wrinkles her nose, “He’s so heavy.”

“but by the time she got back he was…like this.” Dipper lamely gestures towards the couch.

There's a thump and when Stan turns his attention back to the kid that was his twin, Ford has apparently fallen off the couch. The stupid trench coat is on the ground, leaving the boy in the sweater that hangs to his knees when he pulls himself to his feet. He moves to put the couch between them, gripping the arm of it white knuckle tight. “I-I don't know wh-who you are or how you know m-my name,” his voice is more squeaky than Dipper's and laced with a barely restrained fear, “but I'll have you know that my b-brother will beat the heck outta you if you mess with me!”

Stan wants to laugh, wants to groan. This is just…stupid. “You got no clue where you are, huh?” he shakes his head and looks back at the kids. “Where are his glasses? And his pants?” good thing that sweater was so big. Stan spares a glance at his brother’s bare feet, twelve toes standing out clear as day.

Both of them point towards where the golf cart is parked haphazardly a few feet from the porch and Stan has to seriously fight an eye roll at the tracks they left in the yard. He’d get that cleaned up before the next tour. Dipper runs to get the glasses, which Stan snatches from him before he can run over to where Ford is starting to try to sneak away and failing as he knocks into the side of the house.

Stan might hate his brother, but he doesn’t hate this version of him. He’ll give Ford all kinds of hell once this was fixed, about putting the kids in danger and being stupid and this is why he didn’t want him around the kids, but if this version of him didn’t know what was going on then he didn’t deserve any of that. So Stan moves to kneel in front of the kid and holds out the glasses like a peace offering. Ford’s eyes have probably changed a lot in fifty or so years since he was a kid but it had to be better than nothing, right? Stan’s not sure, he knows nothing about glasses other than he needs them.

Ford hated not having his glasses as a kid, hated not being able to see. He’d always raise a stink when Stan or a bully would take them from him. He takes them, though he doesn’t pull his hands out of the sleeves to do so, making the act clumsy. He fumbles a bit as he puts them on; they’re much too big and slide down his nose so he has to tilt his head back a bit to keep them in place. The lenses glow a dull blue, a line like a scanner moving across Ford’s eyes, then the glow fades and after a few blinks, Ford is no longer squinting.

“Can you see now?” Stan’s not sure what that was, but the not squinting is a good thing, right?

Ford nods slowly, keeping one hand on the side of his head to keep his glasses in place. Then he tilts his head with a frown. “You look like my dad. Only really old.” His mouth twitches when Mabel lets out a loud snort behind Stan but then he’s frowning again and squaring his shoulders.

Stan rubs his eyes under his glasses. He hates kids, especially ones related to him. “You like stu—science fiction stuff, right? Well, this is some crazy sci-fi stuff.” He pulls his hand away to flash his best, most charming grin and moves his hands in a ‘ta-da’ motion. “It’s me, your favorite brother! Stanley!”

Ford, if at all possible, looks less impressed than he has since he came back through the portal. “I’m not stupid. Stanley’s my twin.” He grumbles and tries to cross his arms only to scramble to shove the glasses back up his face. His cheeks go red while he tries to straighten himself. “Stanley is the coolest ever and he’s super tough and you’re a weird old man that looks like my dad.”

Mabel and Dipper are on either side of him in a blink; Stan nearly falls over as they slam into him. They’re both gripping one of his arms. “No! It’s true! You’re our Great Uncle Ford and this is Stan! This is like, magic stuff!” Dipper is the first to speak. “You’re like, the greatest scientist that’s ever existed and you’re super smart and cool and you’re the best!”

“Typically you’re both stupid old, but you got bit by a dumb forest creature so now you’re an adorable kid like us!” Mabel appears to have settled on being excited about the turn of events, given she’s grinning ear to ear now. “Hey, hey! Does this mean he’s still our uncle?” she gasps and shakes Stan’s arm. “Oh my gosh! Are we older than him? Are we the big kids?! Can we boss him around?!”

Ford takes a step back, forehead wrinkling and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Did Ford hate being the center of attention when they were kids? Stan doesn’t remember. He elbows both kids and gives his shrunken twin a tired look. “Listen, you just gotta believe us. We gotta work together, kid.”

Ford looks between all of them for a moment before shaking his head. “Prove it!” he yells and puts his hands on his hips, head tilted back far enough to keep the oversized glasses on. “If you are Stanley, which I’m pretty sure you’re not, then you can prove it. Do something only Stanley would do.”

Stan’s first thought is to punch him because his first thought is usually punching Ford these days, but punching a child is, as the kids have informed him, highly illegal. And not the usual kind of illegal that Stan can deal with but the kind that will make the kids not talk to him and possibly call their parents. He looks over his brother, in the oversized sweater that hangs past his hands. Why hasn’t he shoved the sleeves up yet? That doesn’t—

Oh. Right. That makes sense.

Stan holds up a hand, palm to his brother, and with a little bit of nerves climbing up his throat asks, “High Six?” it’s stupid; the last time he said the words was when Ford was staring down at him and a duffle bag with everything he would have to his name sat next to his feet. He’s over that, he doesn’t care, shut up, but it still twists something tight in his gut.

Ford’s face shifts though, annoyance and haughtiness melting off. He still looks nervous though, but he does move. His hands are shaking when he moves to finally push his right sleeve up past his hand. “High six.” He slaps his palm to Stan’s. A small smile crosses his face and Stan feels the twisting in his gut start to loosen up a bit. Then Ford is coughing and shoving both of his hands behind his back. “Okay. So, maybe you’re my brother. Even though you’re super old.”

Stan huffs and pushes himself to his feet despite the way his back protests. He also chooses to ignore the way Mabel is clinging to his arm, causing him to lean to the side when she lifts her feet off the ground. “Alright, let’s get this taken care of. Dipper—”

Dipper jumps next to him, “I’ll go look in the Journals to see if Great Uncle Ford wrote about it! He seemed to recognize it when it attacked.” He makes a mock salute up at Stan before darting inside the house.

Stan frowns. He was going to ask Dipper to look after Ford while Stan looked through the books, but he supposes that Dipper might be better suited for it. Kid was a great deal smarter than Stan anyway. “Right. Okay. So, Mabel, can you—”

“Make Tiny Ford some clothes that’ll fit? Great idea, Grunkle Stan! I’m on it!” she drops off his arm and practically tackles Ford. She hugs him tight and lifts him off the ground; Stan is impressed by how far back she can bend her back. She rubs her cheek against his before putting him back on the ground. Ford looks extremely uncomfortable with the whole thing. “Okay, so I think you’re the same size as Dipper! This will be fun! You’re gonna be so stylin’! Do you still like sweaters? Of course you do, everyone does, sweaters are peak fashion!” and she’s off.

Well. That works too. Well, not like Ford could keep walking around in an oversized sweater, so it made sense. Stan hopes they’ll get things sorted out before multiple clothes are needed but telling Mabel not to make sweater was like telling Dipper not to sweat. Stan’s got a feeling he’ll be spending money on this whole ordeal by the end of it. Yep, it’s decided, he’s not leaving Ford a dime at the end of the summer.

A hand tugs on the end of his sleeve; Ford is staring up at him with those giant oversized glasses. “Old Stanley? That kid said I was a scientist?” his eyes are all wide and sparkling with what looks to be joy. “Does that mean we do science on the sea?”

Stan raises a brow, “The sea?” he reeeeeally didn’t like where this was going.

Ford nods excitedly, smile spreading into a grin. “Yeah! On the Stan O’ War! Do I have a lab on it? I always wanted to put one in there but we never really had a chance to talk about it and it’s gonna take a while to fix up the boat anyway. But if I’m scientist that means I’ve got a lab, right? Like full of beakers and test tubes and monster parts! Ooh, do you beat up monsters and then I study them and we pay for it with all the treasure?” he’s starting to bounce like Mabel does when she gets too excited, both hands coming to grip Stan’s sleeve and his glasses sliding down his face. “Where is the Stan O War? I can’t wait to see what it looks like done! Did we paint it cool colors? Where is it docked? Is the ocean near here? Is this the house where we take breaks from or does it belong to those kids? Are we really their uncles? Where’s Shermie?”

Stan could barely keep up with Ford’s questions and the way he was rapid firing them and on instinct he covers his brother’s mouth with his hand. Ford’s mouth keeps moving for a few seconds, voice muffled, before he seems to realize what was happening. Stan jerks his hand back when he feels a wet tongue against his palm. “Hot Belgian waffles, Sixer. Calm down.” He wipes his hand on his pants. He looks around for any excuse to not deal with all of the that that Ford just asked. Nope, not in any hurry to unpack fifty years’ worth of emotional baggage for the second time in a month. Or ever again if he could avoid it. Yeah, never sounded great. “Let’s get you some pants before we get into all of that.”

Ford nods and moves inside with him. He gasps once they’re in the living room and runs over to the giant skull that Stan uses as an end table. “Holy Moses! Look at the size of it, Stanley! Did you kill it? Did we find it at sea? This is so cool!” he shoves the glasses up his nose and gets on his knees to look in its eye holes. “Do I have notes about it? It doesn’t look like a water creature. Do we still have the rest of it? Stanley, you gotta show me the rest of it! Please?”

Stan slumps back against the wall and tries very hard to not just slide to the floor. This…was going to be difficult.

#this is also on ao3 if you prefer to read it there #kainichivonwrites #little brother blues #gravity falls #fanfiction #stan pines #stanford pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #1.5 stans

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all0nsyidjits · 4 years

Text

The 12th Doctor and Clara go to investigate a brand new crack in space time and end up foster parents to a newborn nephilim. Doctor Who/Supernatural crossover.

Chapter 1

Clara looked over at the Doctor he was totally engrossed in whatever tinkering he was doing beneath the Tardis console. She smiled going back to reading her book. Just then the cloister bell began to chime and the Tardis began to shake and bounce. Clara found herself thrown from her chair on the upper deck of the console room so she grabbed onto the railing hanging on for dear life.

The Doctor was a little less lucky as he banged his head on something beneath the console. She heard him let loose with what she could only assume was a string of expletives in his native Gallifreyan as the Tardis had chosen not to translate the words into English for her.

"Are you okay down there?" she asked once the Tardis had landed with a bone rattling thud.

"Oh I'm just peachy." the Doctor says crawling out from under the console rubbing his forehead gingerly and scowling as he leans in to have a look at the readings on the monitor.

"So what happened?" Clara asks. Coming up beside the Doctor to peek over his shoulder.

"Remember when I told you about my traveling with Amy and Rory and about the crack in space time?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah, I remember." she said.

"Well apparently, something just opened up another crack." The Doctor says pointing to the image on the monitor.

"Okay...so do I need to worry about getting erased from existence or the universe collapsing on itself." she asked.

"I don't know yet." the Doctor said with a shrug "but I need to go investigate."

"Well let's get on with it then." she said knowing things were about to go to hell in a handbasket but hoping that maybe they wouldn't.

So Clara took the Doctor's hand, the one that wasn't holding his sonic and followed him out of the Tardis.

They were met by three men, two of them holding guns and the other holding what appeared to be a short sword of some kind.

"Um...Doctor." Clara said nervously.

The Doctor, bless him, was already maneuvering Clara behind him protectively.

"Okay who the hell are you two?" the shorter of the two men asked. "Or better yet what the hell are you two? Demons? Fairies? Angels? Cas are these any of you asshole siblings?"

The darker haired one wearing the trenchcoat and holding the funny looking swords shook his head.

"No these are not any of my brothers or sisters they're not demons or fairies either. She is human, he is not, but he's not anything we hunt either." The dark haired man stared at the Doctor more intently. "Two hearts, curious, definitely not human, but judging by the rip in space time that they just came through my guess would be some sort of alien species."

"Doctor." Clara said warily tugging at the sleeve of the Doctor's magician's coat. "Um you're not going to believe this, and well admittedly, it is strange and I mean strange even for us strange, but if I'm right these two are Sam and Dean Winchester hunters and their friend Castiel an angel as in the Bible. Like Gabriel, Michael and Lucifer are his actual older brothers."

"Okay and how do you know all of that if you aren't something evil." Dean asked.

"Well because your lives are a tv show where we come from...a favorite of mine actually if that's any consolation. I swear I'm not creepy, it's just really good tv. I'm babbling aren't I? Yep babbling, I'll just be shutting up now." Clara said blushing profusely.

"Yeah, right." said Dean, "sure your nothing we hunt."

"Dean, Wait!" the taller of the two brothers said just as Dean raised his gun aiming it at the two strangers. "She just called him Doctor and they landed here in a blue police box. This isn't ringing any bells for you?"

"Nope, should it?" Dean asked.

"Uh yeah, the tv show Doctor Who?"

"You're telling me they think we're characters from a tv show wherever they're from and they're characters from that goofy sci-fi show you used to watch as a kid?" Dean asked raising an eyebrow.

"Um yeah, pretty much." said Sam rubbing his neck and shrugging.

"Okay, that's not at all weird." Said Dean "but then again it's definitely not the weirdest thing we've ever seen."

"Well the multiverse does exist so the probability of us existing as fictional characters in each other's realities does exist." said the Doctor.

"So they're not dangerous?" Dean

"What? No the Doctor is a good guy." Sam said. "Didn't you ever pay even a little bit of attention to the show when we were kids?"

"No Sammy, I wasn't a huge nerd like you were." Dean scoffed.

Sam sighed.

"Okay so now that we have it sorted out that none of us are the bad guys in our own little corners of the multiverse. Could someone explain that rip in space time?" The Doctor says pointing to the dimensional rift that had occured just as Kelly Kline had started to go into labor with Lucifer's kid.

"That would be because good ol' Lucy's unholy spawn is about to be born." Dean quipped.

The Doctor raised an impressive eyebrow. "Are you suggesting the Antichrist is about to be born?" he asked.

"Nope, already met him cool kid wanted nothing to do with the Apocalypse which we averted by the way."

"Which you also started." Clara added "but no Lucifer's kid isn't evil by default."

Dean glared at Clara and asked "And how would you know?"

"I already told you your lives are a television show where we're from, and no, I can't tell you anything more because well Sam should get this spoilers Sweetie."

A brief look of pain crossed the Doctor's face at Clara's use of River's favorite catchphrase that he himself had adopted to a certain extent.

Sam raised an eyebrow and nodded clearly understanding that Clara had foreknowledge of what would become of Kelly and Lucifer's baby.

"Dean, she knows what happens next." Sam said.

"How if it hasn't happened for us yet so it's not like she could have watched it on tv yet." Dean said pointing out what he thought was the obvious.

"Time travelers, Dean, the Doctor, and his companions travel in Time and space. Sam said putting an emphasis on the word time.

"Oh!" said Dean.

"Oh indeed." said the Doctor.

"But Doctor, this us, being here never happened. We've changed things." Clara said worry evident in her voice.

"Only a little," the Doctor confirmed. "This is a fixed point in their timeline, but the child's timeline is in flux something is about to change the Tardis she brought us here for a reason."

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renwritesstuff · 7 years

Text

bird's opening

A collaboration fic/art story with the lovely @fishbone76

It started as just a friendly game of chess between the Normandy’s two resident geniuses. But then their significant others got involved and almost ruined it.

Also on AO3. Approximately 3,487 words.

Hand at her chin, Samantha Traynor studied the chess board in front of her. The glowing interface was looking a bit blurry around the edges, her mind swimming as she gave a few long blinks. Sam’s spot at the Skyllian Five table in the Port Observation Deck was surrounded by a collection of empty liquor bottles, her other hand gripping a half-consumed cocktail.

Her opponent purred from across the green-topped table. “Are you sweating, Specialist Traynor?” Tali'Zorah Vas Normandy drummed a pair of fingers impatiently.

“Not at all,” Sam retorted as she reached forward to nudge a pawn. “Just trying to decide if I want to win this in 10 moves… or 15 to give you a little boost of confidence.” Her smile was lazy and—admittedly—a bit drunk.

“Big talk,” the quarian slurred, her inflection a little lower than normal. “Considering you said this was ‘in the bag’ four moves ago. What does that even mean?”

Well, right now it actually means “drunk.”

“It’s just a silly idiom that—forget it. Your go, Admiral.”

There was a dull tapping sound on Sam’s right that she ignored with another sip of her drink.

Tali’s white eyes flicked over to the side before returning to the chess board. “Should we let them back in?”

“Absolutely not,” Samantha said with an emphatic shake of her head.

The quarian gave an apologetic shrug at the glass panels that made up the entrance to the small poker cubby of the recreation room.

A muffled “Oh come on!” could be heard from the other side of the glass.

Hovering there, faces pressed up against the locked doors, was Commander Jane Shepard and (General?) Garrus Vakarian. Also perched on Jane’s shoulder was her hamster, Lil’ Dude. All three looked positively pathetic standing around unable to enter.

Garrus scratched a digit against the glass again for another pleading tap. He lowered the rumble in his voice. “…come on… We’ll behave. It was just a little friendly wager between significant others.”

He nudged an elbow at Shepard, who nodded in agreement. “Sure. Yes. Friendly. We were just really excited over how friendly we all are.” She gritted her teeth in a grin. “…and how much you’re going to win, Sam!” Her palm slapped drunkenly on the wall in encouragement.

“Hey!” Garrus squawked back in outrage. A heated argument started (continued, rather) just on the other side of the glass.

“I was so close, Shepard! Then you had to open your big, fleshy mouth!”

No you weren’t even close, Garrus.

“You’re the one who got us kicked out in the first place! Because, and I quote, ‘Tali is gonna wipe the floor with that squishy Comms nerd.’”

“Well she is! All humans are squishy! …except you, of course.”

…I mean, he’s not wrong but it still hurts…

“Is not! Did you see Samantha at that Kepesh Yakshi tournament? No! You were dicking around in the arena. She was incredible!” Shepard gushed as she waved a threatening fist at Garrus.

Oh, thank you, darling. I knew I kept you around for a reason, Sam inwardly smirked as she sipped her drink.

The two chess players shot each other a withering look and rolled their eyes in sync.

…Earlier that same day…

Samantha had laid a kiss on Jane’s cheek as she finished zipping up her uniform. “Don’t wait up, Shepard.”

Shepard looked up from where she was playing with her hamster on her desk. “Unh? Where are you off to?” Lil’ Dude sniffed the air in Sam’s direction with a curious head-tilt.

“Oh, just a little chess game,” Sam said airily. She waved the holo disc in her hand for good measure.

“You’re cheating on me?” Jane asked, eyebrows arching and lips pursing in mock-offense.

Sighing, Sam dropped her shoulders. “There’s no tactful way to say this but: you’re rubbish at chess. A quick learner? Absolutely. But still rubbish.” Waving the holo disc again, Sam gave Shepard a reproachful stare. “I just wanted to have a few drinks and play a few rounds with an opponent who promised a challenge. Your pawns can resume toiling under my regime tomorrow, darling.”

The hamster in Shepard’s hands gave a few squeaks. Jane nodded. “I agree, buddy. That still counts as cheating. …Who is he? Or she? Or they?”

“She,” Samantha confirmed, “…is a fellow brilliant tactician in need of some girl talk. And to cut loose a little. She spends way too much time in the drive core.”

Donnelly and Daniels are starting to think she lives in there.

“Ohhhh,” Shepard intoned with a nod. “Tali. Well, don’t get hammered or anything. She’s gotta liaise with the quarian fleet in the morning. And she really can’t hold her liquor.” She kissed Sam’s cheek back and returned to her hamster, who had resumed stuffing his cheeks with food pellets.

“I promise I’ll return the Admiral to you in one piece,” Sam promised as she strolled out of the cabin.

I can’t promise the same for her ego. Because I am going to destroy—

—whoa whoa whoaaaa. Calm down, Traynor.

Inhaling a few breaths through her nose, Sam centered herself as she tapped the call button for the elevator. The familiar tingle of excitement ran down Sam’s spine: the thrill of competition. Of battle. Of potential victory.

She met Tali in the Port Observation Deck with a polite handshake. Sam took up behind the bar to make them some drinks, her mental catalogue of cocktails decently adaptable to dextro-compatible liquors.

Within a few minutes, she had assembled a dextro-equivalent drink to a Long Island Iced Tea for Tali and a Seaside Sunrise for herself.

“It feels like forever since I had a night off,” Tali remarked as she fumbled with inserting a straw through her mask port.

“I know the feeling,” Sam concurred. “Seems like it’ll just fall apart if you’re not there keeping an eye on things, hm?” She clinked her glass against Tali’s in polite toast.

“Oh Kee'lah, tell me about it. If it’s not the fleet, it’s all the fine-tuning the stealth drive needs to stay ahead of the Reaper suites. Or Garrus wanting…” Tali trailed off, her eyes dimming in what Samantha assumed was a blush.

“Oh, right,” Sam chimed in knowingly with a wicked smile. “You and Garrus. How is that going, by the way?”

A rumbling voice interrupted just behind them along with the sound of doors swishing open. “How's what going?” Garrus asked, his mandibles twitching in a grin. The turian was dressed casually for a change, a blue and gold-trimmed suit hugging the hard lines of his carapace.

“Nothing, you bosh'tet,” Tali quipped back amiably. “Don’t you have a big gun to calibrate?” She checked her Omni-tool before tilting her head sarcastically at Sam. “I mean, it’s probably been 30 seconds since it was last calibrated.”

Sam chuckled. “Possibly even 40. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

Garrus scowled and crossed his arms. “You’re one to talk. You fuss over the drive core like you birthed it yourself.”

“We both have our favorite children,” Tali purred with a smirk. She clinked her glass against Sam’s once more.

The Comms Specialist breathed a mock-irritated sigh. “Please, please. You're both pretty.“ …Tali is prettier… “…By which I mean: pretty good at your jobs.”

Both aliens made scoffing-exhale noises at the same time.

Sam gestured over her shoulder to the empty room across from the Port Observation bar. A green-topped poker table took up most of the glass-enclosed space. She drummed her fingers on the chess holo disc in front of her at the counter. “Shall we, madam?”

“We shall!” Tali chirped back as she slid off the barstool and sauntered her way over to the table. She settled into one seat with Sam following close behind. Garrus remained at the bar, the lanky figure scratching a finger on his chin while he perused the collection of liquors.

The pair assembled at the table and logged in to the glowing interface, a familiar eight-by-eight grid populating with pieces.

“Do I need to give you a refresher on the rules?” Sam asked, her eyes twinkling in challenge.

“Please,” Tali said with an eye-roll. “This is a children’s game on the flotilla. Along with some number game that the volus play. I forget what it’s called.”

Hmph. “Children’s game.”

I will destroy you, Vas Normandy.

Studying the board layout, Sam sighed in pleasure at the cool familiarity of her favorite game. “What about Kepesh Yakshi?” She offered.

A sputtering noise through Tali’s straw followed a cynical squint of the woman’s eyes. “That holo game the asari are obsessed with? It must be nice to have so little to contribute to your people that you can play a game for a living.”

Nevermind. You have redeemed yourself. You’re all right, Tali'Zorah.

A deep laugh rumbled in Samantha’s belly as T'Suza’s defeated face flashed in her mind.

…T'Suza…

Sam nodded in agreement. “It’s an interesting game, I’ll give the asari that. But yes, some of us have little things like military service to do while saving the galaxy.”

“Hear hear,” Tali cheered with a slurp of her drink.

The game started off well enough. Tali was an aggressive opponent with surgical precision for picking off Sam’s pieces. It was exciting, actually. The quarian had a quick, adaptive mind and was keen on heading off some of Samantha’s best strategies while offering some interesting twists of her own.

Meanwhile, Garrus was rather useless milling around in the background. Apparently, he had taken the “you calibrate too much” jibe a little personally because the turian refused to leave the Port Observation Deck. He took up post at the bar for a little while, sampling liquors and making mixtures of his own until he found something he liked. Then he lounged at the low couch, absently thumbing through a datapad while throwing surreptitious glances over at Samantha and Tali while they played.

Eventually, the turian groaned in boredom and ambled up to look over their shoulders.

It was a tense final showdown. Tali had the better coverage but Sam had made an aggressive push into her territory with the white King on the run.

“Checkmate,” Sam announced with her last move. Ironically, a pair of black pawns managed to pin down the King in a corner.

The quarian swore a “bosh'tet” under her breath as she slapped a hand on the table. White eyes flicked up to Sam with a warm glow. She made a measuring motion with her thumb and forefinger. “I was this close. One more move and you would have been at my mercy.”

Chuckling, Sam attempted a sip of her drink but only ice rattled in the empty glass. “Oh I saw that. Well done, by the way. Really kept me on my toes. I took a huge gamble and lucked out, frankly.”

…I wish I was being kind. She very nearly kicked my arse.

“Did you lose?” Garrus rumbled next to Tali, his mandibles flaring.

The quarian’s head tilted in offense, her eyes narrowing to slits. “Yes! It happens!” She glanced over to Sam and jostled her own empty drink. “Shall we make this more interesting with the next game?”

Sam grinned back and stood up. “I like the way you think, Zorah.”

A game within a game was proposed. Mainly involving drinking (a lot of drinking). Garrus volunteered to bartend, though he gave his girlfriend a shoulder-rub along with a peptalk.

“We gotta show these levos who’s boss, Tali. The fate of turians and quarians everywhere hangs in the balance.”

“You mean, beyond the whole Reaper thing currently holding our fate in the balance?” The quarian’s voice trilled with dry sarcasm.

“Sure sure,” Garrus said with a dismissive hand-wave. “That’s really bad. But this! Tali! A chance to show the galaxy what we’re made of!” His grin was lazy under waggling eyebrow plates.

An explosive sigh before Tali’s voice vibrated with amusement. “I'm pretty sure we already did that. At the Citadel. Four years ago. And a year ago. At the Collector Base. And right now. …But sure, Garrus. This chess game will finally solve, once and for all, that dextros are the best.” She shot Sam a head-shake and a wink.

If I wasn’t already taken, I might be in love.

Sam took the time to direct message Jane regarding this development.

[ says: “I’m feeling left out. Tali has her own cheerleading squad while I just have a liquor cabinet. Care to join me and keep Garrus at bay, darling? Because apparently this is now the battle to end all battles between levo and dextro DNA species”]

There was no response. 45 seconds later, Commander Jane Shepard strolled through those swishing doors. She stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, hamster on her shoulder.

“Step off, Garrus. Samantha is gonna wipe the floor with Tali’s hood thing,” the woman announced as she made a finger-wiggling motion at Tali.

The turian barked with delight. “Sheparrrrrrd!”

Oh God. I’ve made a horrible mistake.

Trading shots for chess pieces wasn’t as great an idea as it seemed. Especially without any food in their bellies. Perhaps if it had been speed chess it wouldn’t have turned out so badly.

But it generally took Tali close to 30 seconds to “chug” her shot through her “emergency induction port.”

Still a straw, Tali.

Plus, Shepard and Garrus insisted on helping them select liquors for their shots in an effort to be supportive. A dangerous mixture of drinks were sloshing in their bellies ranging from bourbons to vodkas to an almost-ryncol that Garrus managed to stop before Sam puked her guts out.

“Are you trying to kill your girlfriend, Shepard?”

“What?! I would never!”

“Just because you can drink that krogan shit doesn’t mean anyone else can.”

Almost-poisoning aside, Sam was teetering dangerously in her seat and had to stave off a warm feeling in her belly with willpower alone. She made a terrible mistake about a third of the way into the match and struggled to correct it with pure aggression.

If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.

The second game took close to an hour to resolve… and the winner ended up being Tali.

Fist-pumping the air, the quarian bounced out of her seat and did a flourishing dance to celebrate. “Yes! Evened the odds!” She stumbled slightly and made a drunken pointing motion at Sam. “I’m on to your tricks, Specialist. Clever round that time.”

The peanut gallery was also looking unsteady as well. Garrus and Shepard had taken to linking shoulders and whispering to each other about their girlfriends. They had become downright buddy-buddy… up until the game had ended.

“In your face, Shepard! Tali kicked Traynor's ass!”

“Lucky break! Sam won the first game!”

“Beginner’s luck! Tali just needed a chance to learn all her tells and then clean house!”

“That’s Skyllian Five, you jackass! There aren’t ‘tells’ in chess!”

The two actual players just exchanged sighs while their significant others bickered.

And bickered.

Finally, both women stood up and shouted in harmony. “Enough!”

Garrus and Jane shrank back. Even Lil’ Dude, who was just hanging out on the coffee table, flattened his ears and hid behind an empty glass.

Jabbing an accusing finger into Jane’s collarbone, Samantha growled at her girlfriend. “You’re both being ridiculous! This was supposed to be our evening to enjoy ourselves without the pressure of the galaxy on our shoulders! Any idea what that’s like, Shepard?!”

Tali headbutted Garrus’s chest with her hard mask before she shoved him backwards. “And you! Not everything needs to be some turian crest-measuring contest! If you want a fight, go wrestle with Shepard or Vega in the Shuttle Bay!”

It took some doing, but both women managed to hustle their crestfallen mates out of the poker table lounge area with a couple of well-placed pokes and shouts. Luckily, Garrus and Shepard were so stunned by the accusation that they were already outside the glass partition before they realized it had locked in front of them.

“EDI! Privacy lock! Maximum override!” Sam shouted at the ceiling.

[“I am pleased to assist.”]

Breathing heavily, both women exchanged looks with each other before they burst out laughing.

“Did you see Garrus’s face?”

Tali giggled and held her side. “Shepard looked like a kicked puppy, Traynor! How can you resist that sad face?” She cooed as she waved a finger at the glass.

“Oh believe me, she's well-versed in that.” Sam waved a dismissive hand. “The more she uses it, the less effective it is.”

Gesturing to the board, Samantha smiled warmly. “Shall we break this tie we’ve ended up in?”

“Absolutely,” Tali confirmed as she settled back into her seat.

“You’re the one who got us kicked out in the first place! Because, and I quote, 'Tali is gonna wipe the floor with that squishy Comms nerd.’”

“Well she is! All humans are squishy! …except you, of course.”

“Is not! Did you see Samantha at that Kepesh Yakshi tournament? No! You were dicking around in the arena. She was incredible!”

Rolling their eyes, Sam and Tali did their best to ignore the bickering outside the room.

“Thank you for agreeing to this match, Tali. In spite of…” Sam trailed off as she glanced over where Jane was shaking a fist at Garrus. “…in spite of our children fighting over us.”

Glowing eyes thinning to pleased slits, Tali nodded emphatically. “It was my pleasure! We should do this again sometime!” She shot a glance of her own at Garrus, who was pointing and growling at Lil’ Dude on Shepard’s shoulder. “…though, perhaps without our two biggest fans.”

“Hear hear,” Sam echoed as she clinked her glass against Tali’s on the table.

Exchanging a pair of moves, both women sighed contentedly in the peace and quiet.

Just outside, Jane and Garrus had reached a stalemate of glares.

Lil’ Dude was also in on the stare down, locking eyes with the turian with a scowling “Meep!”

“I hope you’re happy, Garrus,” Jane drawled out with a scowl. Though she looked over at Lil’ Dude and grumbled under her breath, “I can’t believe I’m locked out of my own ship.” Swiping over her Omni-tool, Shepard again tried her Commander credentials.

[“Access denied. Sod off, you pair of gits”] was the angry red message that appeared.

“Okay,” Garrus hummed back after running his hand over his crest in an agitated motion. “Let’s just relax and calm down… I’ll start… I’m sorry I called Traynor a 'helper monkey.’”

The Commander slapped at the turian’s shoulder. “Yea, what the hell, Garrus?”

“I'm sorry! Javik would say that and I thought it was a term of endearment! Like Vega calling Tali 'Sparks.’”

Sighing, Jane crossed her arms and mumbled an apology. “Okay, well, I’m sorry I said Tali couldn’t checkmate her way out of a paper bag. Tali is the best.”

The two begrudgingly shook hands before pressing back up against the glass.

“Can you tell what’s going on?” Garrus asked. “I’ll be honest: I don’t understand this game.”

“I’ve played it before and I don’t even understand what’s going on,” Jane admitted with a sigh.

“Keelah but you do have a talent for mixing drinks!” Tali exclaimed as she drained the last of her beverage through a straw. A rattling-sucking noise could be heard. “You missed your calling, Traynor.”

“Oh no,” Sam retorted with a headshake. “I already attempted this calling in university. I very much enjoyed the mixology part. Less so the 'customer service’ part.” She wrinkled her nose at the memory of too many rowdy drunks to count. “I created some excellent precision mixes back in the day, but so rarely did anyone want to recreate them down to the hundredth of a decimal place in fluid ounces.” Feigning a scowl, Sam tossed her hair theatrically. “Philistines.”

The quarian chuckled. “Don’t they understand that quality comes from calibrating exactly the right amoun—?” She froze and shook her head. “—Oh Keelah, I’m starting to sound like Garrus.” Her shoulders dropped fretfully.

Winking back, Sam nudged at the woman’s hand. “You are. But I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Garrus’s muffled voice shouted through the glass. “What’s happening? Tali? Why are you looking so sad? Are you losing? Did you lose?”

Shepard pounded on the door with a slurred cheer. “Yea! Go Sam! Kick her ass! And not just because Garrus called you a 'helper monkey!’”

He said what?! He called me a what?!

That sonofabitch!

Eyes flicking back to Sam, Tali asked in a bored voice while feigning interest in the game. “Should we tell them it’s a draw?”

“Absolutely not,” Samantha replied. She guzzled down her drink before smacking her lips. “I’d rather enjoy the quiet for a few more minutes. Don’t you agree?”

“Hear hear, Traynor.”

#ren writes #fishy arts #shaynor #tali x garrus #samantha traynor #jane shepard #femshep #tali zorah #garrus vakarian #chess #lil dude #fic #nanowrimoren

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apatheticaria · 4 years

Text

my spoilery thoughts on the last of us part ii

i apologize in advance for this super long post that you have to scroll past because i don’t know how to do the “keep reading” option thing

the only reason i’m writing this out is because i’m literally going insane from not being able to talk about my feelings for this game to anyone since no one i know actually cares lmao so this is mainly just for myself and anyone who wants to read this

the intro:

as i played through this game, i also watched a few playthroughs up until the point where i stopped to take a break. this was a game i couldn’t binge just because it’s so heavy and intense and sometimes you just gotta step away and take a breather

one of the playthroughs i followed along with was jacksepticeye’s and at the end he gave his review of the game like he normally does. i didn’t completely agree with everything he said, but for the most part i thought what he said lined up pretty well with my own opinion.

in particular, one thing that stood out to me was when he said that the introduction to this game shouldn’t have been Joel talking to Tommy about what he did at the end of the first game, but rather the whole flashback of Ellie’s birthday at the museum. then at “one” during the countdown to liftoff, the screen should’ve went black and fast forwarded to four-years-older Ellie opening her eyes in her home in Jackson (idk if i’m explaining this well, but Jack’s editor, Robin, edits this together and really sold it to me. if you wanna see it, go to the last part of Jack’s playthrough and look for it towards the last 30 minutes). i think this would have given us the time i think we all needed with Joel before he died and all the following flashbacks would be more focused on how/why Joel and Ellie’s relationship turned so distant - or hostile on Ellie’s part - and could’ve helped the pacing a bit.

Joel’s death:

potentially an unpopular opinion? but i actually like how Joel died. or uh lemme rephrase, i like the way they wrote his death. in this world of violence, hate, and brutality (actually doesn’t sound too off from our world but ahem moving on), i think the way he died was realistic, especially since he doomed all of humanity by saving Ellie in Part I. it just makes a lot of sense that someone would go after him and hunt him down

from the moment Abby and Owen stood over Jackson from the cliff, i was thinking: well theyre gonna kill Joel and since we’re gonna probably be playing as this girl for some (emphasis on some) of the game, they’re gonna go hard on the grey area of perspective in terms of revenge. which i was super on board with, but we’ll get back to that

when this game was first advertised, i didn’t know how i felt about a revenge story. it’s been told so many times and i’m never as hell-bent on revenge as much as the character is because it never feels warranted enough. that is, until i saw Joel die. watching Ellie pinned to the floor with a perfect view of his body, his face, beat to shit as she screams and begs for Abby to stop? haha that’s fucked Naughty Dog, thanks. but i do appreciate that they were able to make me just as mad as Ellie because of just how brutal his death was and how much i care, cared, about that character. no story has ever made me so incredibly enraged to the point i was with the main character full-stop to just destroy the perpetrator and take revenge. that’s why i think the way Joel dies is perfectly done. the fact that that cutscene is so horrible to watch for so many reasons just proves that it does it’s job.

Ellie’s half:

i actually don’t have too much to say about Ellie’s half of the story. this was what i both expected and wanted from the game, the whole game. while i can’t say i was having “fun”, because this isn’t really a fun game to play, you know what i mean when i say that this part was fun to play and follow.

side note: Naughty Dog’s improvement of your NPC buddy is so good, Dina and Jesse were both actually helpful, still not perfect, but also they’re not supposed to do all the work for you. i think the added layer that they could also get caught/seen and alert the enemy was completely unexpected and such a good addition to the gameplay (ofc this goes for Lev as well).

throughout the whole story, there’s kinda a problem with the pacing, and i know i’m not the first person to say that. however, i think the only big pacing issue i had with Ellie’s perspective was that kinda weird attempt of an open world map that they did with the gates. it felt a little unnecessary since i, and most other people, are playing for the story, not an open world with various side quest-like things. i missed the guitar cutscene with Ellie playing the guitar and singing to Dina (which kinda sucks, but i obviously just watched it after) because i just wanted to get back to the story rather than explore a large area. it was an attempt at something different so i won’t fault the game for that too much, but also stay in your lane lol so that section was a bit of a miss for me personally. i really liked the rest of it though, it had me engaged the whole time

Abby’s half:

ok. i have a lot to say about this half of the game since this is where most the problems occur.

first, let me preface this by saying that i don’t hate Abby. as i said, from the very beginning i knew she was going to have a, not justifiable, but an understandable reason for murdering Joel and that the game was going to be about seeing two sides to the same story. except, at the same time, i came here for Ellie, so why am i playing as this heterosexual? im mostly kidding. but fr i didn’t need the entire half of the game trying to get me to sympathize with Abby. i really didn’t need the message to be so spelt out for me, i got it from the moment i realized she was going to kill a favorite character.

i think my main gripe with the way they told this story is the way they formatted it. this story has all the elements to be amazing, but the execution just lacked the...finesse? idk if that’s the right word.

rather than splitting up the game into two halves, they could/should have integrated Abby’s story into Ellie’s so that when we cut from Abby holding the gun at Ellie in the theater to suddenly Abby as a young girl, it won’t feel so jarring when we have to start all over again with the upgrades and the timeline.

i really liked how we switched between them in the very beginning so why couldn’t that have just continued? in a book with multiple povs, the author often switches back and forth between every or every few chapters. you never see a book that starts with one perspective, then at the climax you have to start all over again from the other. at least, i’ve never seen this in any books i’ve read and i’ve read a lot ngl

maybe they forced us to stick with Abby for so long because if we’re forced to play as her, then we’re forced to get invested into her story. while this makes sense, it also really degraded at my enthusiasm for the game. it took me so long to just give up on the idea that we would be going back to Ellie relatively soon and when i did actually realize that was what was happening i was really disappointed.

instead of separating their stories, i would’ve liked to have Abby maybe one step behind Ellie the whole time so that while we play we’re just anticipating when Abby will finally catch up and it builds to this whole thing. instead, when we actually got to the point where everything was supposed to go down, we’re hit with whiplash and back to the very beginning with tutorials?? like did they just expect us to forget how to play since we switched characters?

i’m thinking, after Ellie and Dina jump over the barbed wire that explodes and Ellie’s knocked out, we could have switched over to Abby waking up in the WLF stadium. after Abby sneaks out of the stadium and you have that interaction with Jordan where he mentions Leah at the tv station, then we go back to Ellie waking up and tied to the table and we see Ellie kill Jordan.

after this i think Abby should have met Lev and Yara way sooner because i barely even remember what happened before Abby was caught by the seraphites it was so boring. so she gets caught by the seraphites AFTER we meet them through Ellie being shot through the shoulder (i still want to get all the first impressions of new stuff with Ellie because then it still makes her feel like the main character) and we meet the siblings and blahblahblah.

as a follow up, after Ellie kills Nora, which by the way, Ellie’s facial expressions are just so good with the red light while she’s just beating Nora to death? wow that entire interaction was so well done. anyway, after Ellie kills Nora, and Ellie gets back to the theater and the scene ends with her and Dina hugging, then we would switch to that whole section with Abby and Lev traveling to the hospital to get the meds and it would be cool if on her way in, Nora helps Abby and then on her way out, we run into a door we have trouble opening so we push and when it opens, Nora’s beaten up body is right there.

you get the gist. Abby’s story was barely intertwined with Ellie’s until the very end where she finds Owen and Mel dead. she doesn’t know that literally everyone else, except Leah, is dead too. i feel like that would’ve made the impact of Abby and Ellie’s fight at the theater more effective. affective? whatever i’m not an english nerd

i also think we should have gotten the flashback with Abby’s dad a little later when we’re expected to understand her character a bit more.

overall, i’m not mad about getting Abby’s side of the story, but i am mad that the way it was told felt so disconnected from Ellie. we could still get that whole arc of Abby going to the island to get Lev, she can still get her own story apart from Ellie, but she needed to have more of a interaction with Ellie’s actions.

Abby vs. Ellie, Abby’s pov:

i absolutely hate this fight. i really hate the way it was written and the way it happened. i get that the game is trying to give us Abby’s perspective and to show that in her point of view, Ellie is the villain in this story.

except, AGAIN, i don’t need this spoon fed to me!!! i KNOW that the world isn’t black and white and that people’s perspectives are different, but also? i don’t really care. both characters have gone through shit and both have done shitty things. neither of them are innocent, no one in this world is innocent (hence why i really dislike Mel, but that’s not really relevant), so it really comes down to which character you value more. in my - and most other people’s - case, it’s Ellie. i know the whole point of this fight is to make the player uncomfortable, but i wasn’t just uncomfortable, it made me legitimately start to dislike this game (spoiler for the end of this stupid-long review: i don’t completely dislike it)

the game really emphasizes that this is Abby’s story as much as it is Ellie’s and i get that, but this fight did not need to happen the way it did and the game didn’t need to be even longer after this. a lot of people say that we played from Abby’s perspective because Ellie would have killed Abby and that would be that (and she did, by the way, i relished watching Ellie get her revenge because while i don’t hate Abby, it was still so satisfying even if that wasn’t how the game wanted me to play). however however however, Abby wouldn’t have showed mercy either. she was absolutely going to kill Ellie if Dina hadn’t intervened then she was going to kill Dina if Lev hadn’t intervened.

here’s how i wouldve wanted it to go: we go back to Ellie’s perspective once Abby has the gun pointed at Ellie in the lobby and during their fight, Ellie would get the upper hand because she has weapons and shit (let’s be honest, Ellie would not win in hand-to-hand combat with fully-healthy Abby, we saw that first hand). Lev would try to jump in, but then Dina would disarm him and prevent him from escaping her grasp. then eventually Ellie would have the barrel of the shotgun pointed at Abby’s face and she would hear Lev tell her to please stop don’t kill her and Ellie would listen because the same exact thing happened to her (we could get a short flashback or something for more emotions, idk). so instead of killing Abby, Ellie would knock her out and her and Dina would leave and Lev would run to Abby’s unconscious body. this would end that cycle of revenge and because Abby has something more important to her than revenge (Lev), they would move on.

the ending:

if the game went how i just imagined, we probably wouldn’t get an ending that’s as depressing and open ended as it is, but i’m sure Neil and his team could figure something out, such as Ellie still has to deal with PTSD and Tommy’s really pissed at them and Ellie still looses her two fingers. so we get that little domestic sequence and the PTSD flashback and Tommy coming with his eye missing and showing the map. he leaves and when Ellie is about to leave in the middle of the night, Dina convinces her this time to stay and the next day Ellie tries to play the guitar one last time before giving up since she doesn’t have her fingers (i still want that last heartbreaking flashback, that one fucked me up i love it) and she goes out to leave it somewhere in the woods with it all ending with her walking away from the guitar that Joel gave her to symbolize her letting him go. idk man something like that, still not that open ended, but i’m just talking out of my ass rn

anyway that’s not how it went so we’ll stick to reality.

an open ending isn’t supposed to be unsatisfying, because that’s what this ending was. Part I does an open ending perfectly as we still get closure even though we don’t know exactly how things go afterwards (until now obviously).

after playing from Abby’s perspective for so goddamn long, it was weird to play as Ellie again, even while it was also a relief, and that makes me really sad. in the end, i did feel bad for Abby when she was literally left to starve and “hang” (but again i didn’t need 15+ hours in order to feel basic sympathy).

from the way they wrote the story, i knew Ellie wasn’t going to let it go and she was going to leave Dina and JJ. it made sense and i don’t think it was out of character for her, but the fact they did that in the first place and that Abby was the one to let go first? Abby got her revenge, she killed Joel, but Ellie never got that closure so of course she was going to go after Abby.

in the very end, Ellie is left with no one and Abby still has Lev and a group of fireflies to run to. Ellie’s biggest fear was being alone as she said in the first game, but that’s exactly what she’s left with. yeah life is unfair and i do like that the consequences feel real in this story, but i don’t think Ellie deserved to be done so damn dirty while Abby is living her best life. sure all of Abby’s friends were murdered because of Ellie and Dina leaving is Ellie’s own fault and i don’t blame Dina, but i mean we have no idea what happens to Ellie after this, where she goes. it at least feels like she’s on the road to eventually being relatively okay, as okay as you can be in this world.

i can’t completely articulate how i feel about this ending, even after three days having finished playing. all i do know is that while it’s realistic how Ellie’s story ended, i would’ve liked for Abby to get the same treatment. for her to not actually find the fireflies through the radio and escape from the Rattlers only to have no where to go so that, just like Ellie, revenge cost her everything and we don’t know where she went after.

maybe because Abby’s story was pretty much wrapped up and Ellie’s wasn’t, they’re planning for a trilogy, but i guess we’ll see.

the tldr;

this game has all the elements it needed to be amazing overall imo, i just wish they were all utilized Better. the reason it’s so hard to figure out how i feel about this game is because it has so much potential that just never came through and i’m really jealous of all the people who were blown away by this story. it’s still a good game though, but a 7/10 seems too high and 6/10 seems to low. ig it’s a 6.5/10 for me.

thanks for reading if you made it this far

#tlou2 #tlouii #the last of us #the last of us part ii #the last of us part 2 #i just love ellie a lot #i dont think abby is better than ellie for letting go because everyones an asshole #im scared of them making a part three because they would end up killing ellie somehow #this game fucked me up and im sorry if you actually read all my rambling but i appreciate you #also joel is not a bad person he’s just traumatized from losing his daughter leave him ALONE he’s HUMAN #the last of us part ii spoilers #tlou2 spoilers

0 notes

rp-meme-central · 7 years

Text

Gravity Falls sentence starters - Part 17

1. “I just ate a whole package of cheeze boodles without using my hands. Lazy Tuesday, you are delivering in a big way!”

2. “It’s nice to finally have a day where nothing interesting happens whatsoever.”

3. “Everyone get down! Don’t let it taste human flesh!”

4. “Get it out of here. It smells like if death could barf.”

5. “I’m sorry, _____. On the dark, weird road I travel, I’m afraid you cannot follow.”

6. “My _____ is a dangerous know-it-all, and the stuff s/he’s messing with is even worse. Do yourself a favor and stay away from him/her, you hear me?”

7. “You’ll never guess what I found at the store today!”

8. “Ugh! This is like ‘Homework: The Game’.”

9. “Say, is this that game that’s mostly math and writing and isn’t anything like the picture on the box?”

10. “Only a game designed by nerds would have ‘charisma’ as a fantasy power.”

11. “Maybe I should start obsessing over _____ again.”

12. “This is my favorite game in the whole multiverse! I can’t believe they still make it.”

13. “Do you know what this means? We must stop everything I’ve been working on at once... and play!”

14. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

15. “That is so messed up. ______ would love that!”

16. “It’s best if you and the family/others stay away from that subject. Honestly, I’m not sure any of you could handle the real answer.”

17. “That’s so cool. And impossible.”

18. “Are you going to go to sleep? You’ve been saying dork words for hours.”

19. “Hey hey. Look at you. Someone’s all dressed up.”

20. “Could you maybe move this to another room?”

21. “You want to break a record, _____? You’ve already got it for World’s Nerdiest Old Wo/man.”

22. “At least I’m not all keyed up to watch a kid’s show.”

23. “Don’t mock our fantastical monetary system!”

24. “Listen, _____. Did it ever occur to you that if you joined us, you might actually have fun?”

25. “Now you listen to me. As long as I live, I will never ever play your smarty-pants nerd game!”

26. “You are the smartest players I’ve ever met. That’s why I’m going to eat your brains to gain your intelligence. It’s what I do.”

27. “Your math is no match for my gun, you idiot!”

28. “Eh, maybe let him/her get a couple bites in _____’s brain first. Even things out smartness-wise.”

29. “Alright, alright. I guess if we have no other choice, we’ll go on a... *sigh*... epic wizard quest.”

30. “Everyone grab a weapon.”

31. “If my hands were free, I would break every part of your face.”

32. “We must be getting close. These fairy bites are getting more frequent.”

33. “S/he’s magic, _____. I’m sure s/he’s fine.”

34. “There are no cops in the forest. We take this to our graves.”

35. “Stop thinking, ____! The more wrinkly your brain gets, the more s/he’ll want to eat it!”

36. “Drat! How did you make it past my one guard?”

37. “Ah! My ears! They’re so pointy!”

38. “There had better be something protective under this tunic. Oh! No there isn’t.”

39. “Seriously? Can’t we just, like, arm wrestle or something?”

40. “If you win, I go back to my own dimension. But if I win, I eat their brains.”

41. “What do we do? What are our moves?”

42. “I cast... uh... Shield of Shielding!”

43. “Haha, yes! I was saving the worst for last.”

44. “Sorry, Nerd Wizard. All your smarts are no match for dumb luck.”

45. “Actually, after all that, I could use a little mindless fun.”

46. “Eh, we both got carried away. I guess we’ve both gone a while without a friend.”

47. “I don’t want you to tell anyone about this. Not _____, not even your _____. You understand?”

48. “In my time, I’ve made many powerful enemies, but I trust you with this secret.”

49. “Another day, another random body pain. Here we go.”

50. “Hey! For your information, I was gonna shoplift most of this.”

51. “Does anyone see this? This is what a hero looks like, right here.”

52. “According to the town charter, a worthy candidate is anyone who can cast a shadow, count to ten, and throw their hat into this ring.”

53. “A colorful piece of paper? S/he’s got my vote.”

54. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about ______ as mayor.”

55. “____’s the name, and being normal’s my game.”

56. “It’s a shame _____ isn’t here. S/he’d run, and win, and be a great mayor.”

57. “Hold it right there, ____! I’m taking you on!”

58. “I was going to let bygones be bygones, ____, but you just made a powerful enemy.”

59. “I’ll win either way, and when I do, you may not like the ______ you wake up in.”

60. “Let the madness begin!”

61. “_____ has a kind of charisma. How hard could getting him/her elected be?”

62. “Your approval ratings started at zero. Now it’s a number lower than zero.”

63. “From now on, maybe you should just read our prepared remarks.”

64. “It’s a shame there isn’t a device that would allow you to control someone else. Oh, wait, of course. Yes, there is.”

65. “Whoa. This is amazing, and ethically ambiguous.”

66. “As long as you wear the matching one, s/he’ll say and do whatever you want him/her to.”

67. “Mind control is awesome!”

68. “Do I really have to wear this thing? It looks like a flag threw up on me.”

69. “Okay, we’ll only jump in if s/he starts doing badly.”

70. “Magic, you say? Well, maybe it’s time we fight fire with fire.”

71. “We discussed this. No more spooky spells.”

72. “We’d respect you if you took things more seriously.”

73. “This tie is a mind-control device invented by _____. If it weren’t for this tie, you’d be losing.”

74. “You’re making me very uncomfortable right now.”

75. “Hello there. Long time no see. Except in my revenge fantasies, in which I see you on an hourly basis.”

76. “You’ll never get away with this, you creepy little dork!”

77. “You were right all along. I should have listened to you when I had the chance.”

78. “This debate is over! I’ve got to go save my family!”

79. “No! Stop it! Thank you, but stop it!”

80. “I can still drop you, you know.”

81. “If I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than ____.”

82. “Well, guess we know who won.”

83. “I actually think you as mayor would have been fun.”

84. “Let’s go vandalize _____’s mansion.”

85. “I’m finally ready to make a deal.”

#rp memes #sentence starters #Gravity Falls

26 notes · View notes

anonymous-hopeful · 7 years

Text

Hopestuck

A fanfic with Danganronpa characters in Homestuck

I'm just going to post it all in one go, then update as needed.

Like and reblog, all that fun stuff

ACT ONE: THE BEGINNING

A young adult male stands alone in his room. He dons his zip-up hoodie, t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. At first glance, this teenaged boy seems normal, completely ordinary, however, this is not so. For you see, atop his head is an ahoge, passed down from generation to generation. They say it's a mark of destiny. This boy will be known in history. This boy is extremely special. This boy...this boy is...

==> Name The Boy.

NAEGG MACOOKEM

...

"Actually, you're not that far off."

==>

NAEGI MAKOTO

"See? You were pretty close."

==>

Your name is NAEGI MAKOTO. Inside your dorm is your VARIETY OF INTRESTS, or rather, LACK THEREOF. You don't really have much in your room, as every time you try to decorate it, IT PUTS OUT THE WRONG MESSAGE ABOUT YOU. The message being you're an INTRESTING GUY. The only reason you're even in HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY anyway was because of the LOTTERY YOU WON. By winning said lottery, you were awarded the title of ULTIMATE LUCKY STUDENT, and the entrace into ONE OF THE MOST PRESTEGIOUS SCHOOLS IN JAPAN. While you try to FIT IN, you can't help but be intimidated by the other students who are TRULY TALENTED. Thankfully, someone connected you to CHAT-CHAN, a chat-room application that some students here use. You've made some friends under your CHANHANDLE, HopefulEgg. Unfortunately, you're too shy to talk to them in real life.

What will you do now?

==> Makoto: Examine your fetch modus.

Fetch modus? Oh yeah. That was the storage device you recieved when you came in on the first day. You look at your FETCH MODUS. It's the LUCK MODUS, of course. Once something goes in, whether or not comes out is up to sheer luck. You've avoided using the capchalouge cards for it. You don't need anything important getting stuck in the sylladex.

==> Makoto: Examine your strife specibus.

Strife specibus? Oh yeah. That was the weopon specializer you recieved when you came in the first day. You have the REVOLVERKIND, filled with a large supply of TRUTH BULLETS. You've avoided using that, too. Guns are dangerous, and you're no marksman.

==>

"Uwuu! Someone wants to chat with you!☆"

Looks like Chat-chan's alerting you.

==> Makoto: Chat.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

MR: Are you available at the moment?

HE: as of now, yes. whats up?

MR: I was wondering if you had taken notes from today's lesson.

HE: yeah, i always do that, why, do you need them?

MR: If we were able to meet up somewhere on campus, yes.

HE: oh, i see what this is! you're not making me fall for it, ramen -.-

MR: What is that at the end?

HE: it's a squinty face. it enforces that i'm not falling for the trick.

MR: Sure it does.

HE: :)

MR: I don't understand why you are so self conscious. Surely after our many chats, you will have become more confident.

HE: i have! a little...

MR: Would you at least tell me your name?

HE: eh...why don't you go first?

MR: I inquired first.

HE: still, i'm not ready!

MR: Then my identity shall remain hidden as well.

HE: fine by me.

MR: Seriously though, I do need the notes.

HE: don't worry, i'll send them via internet file.

HE: IMPORTANTNOTES.jpg

MR: Thank you. This will work tremendously in my investigation.

HE: what investigation?

MR: ...

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

==>

You hope that investigation had good intentions behind it.

==>

*a knock at the door*

==> Makoto: Answer knock.

No one's on the other side, however, there are two envelopes left in their wake.

==> Makoto: Pick up envelopes.

You pick up the envelopes and look atbthe packaging. On each one, the logo for a game called SBURB in printed, but underneath, the text either says server or client. You have a vauge idea who left these at your dorm. After all, he's the only one that knows who you are.

==> Makoto: Chat with you-know-who.

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

HE: hey, did you leave these disks outside my dorm?

==>

You end up waiting a pretty long time. Eventually, you give up on the guy.

"SBURB...I wonder what it is..."

==> Makoto: Ask about SBURB.

You examine your chatmate list.

MysteriousRamen

WealthyLiterary

PsychoticLovestruck

CrystalClairvoyant

WaterloggedSprinkle

SeriouslyTalentless

OccultNobility

CookiecutterPepsicola

FamishedOlympian

HomicidalBabyface

Other than CookiecutterPepsicola, you're not sure who would have any idea about this game. You decide to take to the internet for this one.

==>

You find nothing. Literally nothing. Does this game even exist?!

==>

MysteriousRamen

WealthyLiterary

PsychoticLovestruck

CrystalClairvoyant

WaterloggedSprinkle

SeriouslyTalentless

OccultNobility

●CookiecutterPepsicola

FamishedOlympian

HomicidalBabyface

Looks like he's on now.

==>

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

HE: hey, did you leave these disks outside my dorm?

CP: Yeh. Cool, right?

HE: if i knew what it was, sure.

CP: Yer gonna find out soon enough. Along with the others.

HE: others?

CP: Mmhmm. It's all part of my plan.

HE: so you made this?

CP: Sorta. Some of th' stuff I got from this random guy that keeps botherin me.

HE: aw man. internet troll?

CP: Self proclaimed too.

HE: don't you know to just leave those guys alone?

CP: That's just it. He won't, and every time I block 'im, it seems ta override.

HE: :O

CP: I guess th' guy ain't that bad. Though, I guess I get some weird feelin's from 'im. Like...he's flirtin or somethin.

HE: :(

CP: Hold on. He's on now. I gotta get back ta ya.

CookiecutterPepsicola [CP] ceased chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

==>

You're amazed. You can't believe that guy blew you off to indulge some internet troll. You almost feel offended. Actually, you do. Then again, you're not that surprised. He's a quirky guy.

==> Point of View: Switch.

Wait a minute! We're not done with this guy yet! There's so much more to...oh.

It appears the point of view switches anyway. Bummer.

ACT ONE: POINT OF VIEW SWAP

A serious, dignified, and one might even say stoic girl stands in the middle of her dorm. The lavender-haired lass is wearing her dark purple jacket, paired with a tie, black gloves, heeled boots, a skirt, and a small bow in a single braid. One look at this lady, and you know she means business, and even though her lips are sealed, she's examining, analyzing, studying, completely aware of her surroundings, and that you're looking at her. Maybe you should guess her name.

==> Guess her name.

CUP O' FANSERVICE NOODLES

...

"You couldn't possibly have done worse."

==>

KIRIGIRI KYOKO

Yeah. That's it. She wonders why you didn't get it sooner.

==>

Your name is KIRIGIRI KYOKO. You go to HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY as the ULTIMATE DETECTIVE. As expected, you've got quite a bit of DETECTIVE MERCHANDICE in your room. A POSTER OF YOUR FAVORITE DETECTIVE here, a NANCY DREW BOOK there, and and old-timey DETECTIVE OUTFIT hanging in your closet. Your FATHER got that for you when you were accepted in. Your father, of course, is KIRIGIRI JIN, the HEADMASTER of Hope's Peak. He's a pretty good father, you think, when he's not being a total nerd. Quite recently, you took on another case, except instead of finding a MURDERER, you're trying to figure out who's on the end of each CHANHANDLE. Just saying, you all claim to go to Hope's Peak. The least you all could do is talk IN REAL LIFE. Still, you communicate with them under your own chanhandle, MysteriousRamen.

What will you do?

==> What are those notebooks on the floor?

Nothing. They're not important.

==> What's on that corkboard over there?

You sure are nosy.

==> What-

Before you can finish, she snaps up the item in her sylladex. Even if you wanted to see it, it'd only be a photo-copy. This is the CLUE MODUS. The only way to truly get the item would be to follow the clues on the back of the card. Only the wisest of detectives use this modus.

==> What about-

Once again cutting you off, she pulls out a SHIV, which was stored in her KNIFEKIND. She thinks it'll get you to stop. She's right.

==> Kyoko: Continue investigation.

You go on your computer and examine all of your files. You've managed to get majority of your chans to send over something with their handwriting on it. You just need two more submissions, then some difinitive answers can come up.

==> Kyoko: Have that conversation with HopefulEgg.

You have that conversation with HopefulEgg. The one where you asked for a picture of their notes. They were apprehensive at first, but the mission was a victory. The next nut got a tougher shell to crack...

==> Kyoko: Chat with WealthyLiterary.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

MR: If it doesn't bother you, I'd like to ask you a favor.

WL: Fun fact: I don't do favors.

MR: Fun fact: this is important.

WL: ...

WL: Fine. Make it quick. I have better things to do.

MR: Of course. Could you send me a handwritten document via comupter?

WL: Excuse me?

MR: There is an extreme emergency within Hope's Peak.

WL: You're bluffing.

MR: I'm as serious as a heart attack.

WL: If you're being serious, you'll tell me what's happening.

MR: Gladly. It seems a thief in in this school, and they leave notes behind every time they steal. I'm examining everyone's handwriting.

WL: Either this is true, or you're the Ultimate Liar.

MR: I couldn't be. They graduated last year.

WL: ...

WL: You've barely convinced me.

MR: Funny. Everyone else submitted a document. You are the first to downright refuse. This could cut out inveatigation all together. You must be the culprit.

WL: What? Impossible. I'd never stoop so low as to resort to thievery.

MR: Tell it to the judge.

WL: You really are serious about this, aren't you?

MR: As a heart attack, like I said.

MR: Now, either send me a document, or face jail time. Your choice.

WL: Give me a moment.

MR: (Time Lapse)

WL: Very mature.

MR: ; :)

MR: I try.

WL: Writtendocument.jpg

WL: There. Are you satisfied?

MR: Quite.

WL: Thank goodness.

WealthyLiterary [WL] ceased chatting to MysteriousRamen [MR]

==>

"That guy's a total douche."

==>

What? He is!

==>

That also wasn't a lie. Technically, there is a theif.

==>

And they've stolen your heart.

==>

You enjoy chatting with them. Whoever they are...

==>

HopefulEgg...

==> Kyoko: Begin deeper investigation.

You pull up each file. You begin to try and decode each sample. To aid in this, you take out the (completed and graded) essays you've stolen from the classroom. The investigation is-

==> Knock knock.

Who's there? You decide to go check.

==> No one.

Of course. Practical jokery, ha ha. You're so mad about the jape you almost don't see the two envelopes on the ground.

==> Kyoko: Pick them up.

You pick them up, just like it says.

"SBURB, huh?"

==>

Looks like a game of some sort. One's marked Server, and the other is marked Client. You were never big on video games, but this one seems intresting. You decide to consult your local techie.

==> Kyoko: Consult your local techie.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

MR: SBURB, huh?

CP: What?

MR: Oh nothing. I would just like to know what's your aim in this game you've created.

CP: There ain't an aim in this. I just want everyone ta play it.

MR: It surprises me that you could purchace this for me.

CP: I didn't. I made it with the help of some internet troll.

MR: Oh?

CP: Now I know what yer thinkin, an' no, he ain't some creep.

MR: How does he describe himself?

CP: Um...it's weird.

MR: I'm sure I've heard weirder.

CP: He says he's an amethyst blooded, sea dwelling troll with a love for lusi, whatever those are.

MR: Intresting.

CP: Also, as rude as he usually is, I think he's bein' flirty. Endin every statement with ♡♤.

MR: Oh really?

CP: Yeah. He says he's fanscinated wit me.

MR: Hmm. Now that I think about it, a random person has began messaging me as well. Though I never indulge them.

CP: I suggest it. The guy I got's not bad.

MR: I will consider.

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

==>

"Uwaa! ☆"

Speaking of...

==>

treblemakingSongbird [TS] began trolling MysteriousRamen [MR]

TS: Are you on? <(^^)

TS: Please don't block me again. It took our tech troll over an hour to decode the system. <(UU)

MR: Not this time.

TS: >(' ')!

==> Random Douchebag: Appear out of nowhere.

Oh boy. Here we go again.

ACT ONE: Who's this douchebag?

A random douchbag appeared. You examine him a bit. Straight-laced green suit, perfecty styled blonde hair, expensive looking glasses, and a narssicistic scowl on his face. All doubt leaves your mind; this guy really is a douchebag. Textbook definition of the term. If you looked up that word in the dictionary, there would be no words, only this guy's photo. He looks at you and raises a disapproving eyebrow. He wants you to guess his name. Actually, he expects you to know it already. What a prick.

==> INSUFFERABLE DOUCHEPRICK.

He says he's not going to acknowledge the degrading name you gave him.

==> TOGAMI BYAKUYA.

He nods a bit in approval. You guess that's who he is.

==>

Your name is TOGAMI BYAKUYA. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE AFFLUENT PROGENCY, you plan on letting everyone know YOU'RE IN CHARGE, and that you're basically BETTER THAN EVERYONE. In your dorm, you have decorated with EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE STATUES, BOOKS, AND FURNATURE, and in your closet is a wide variety of EXTREMELY EXPENSIVE SUITS. That's how rich you are. Of course, such is expected of the next owner of the TOGAMI CONGLOMERATE, one of Japan's BIGGEST BUSINESSES. You admit, you spent a long time working up to that level, and there's NO WAY YOU'RE BACKING DOWN. You also admit that you only went to Hope's Peak to see if anyone was as COMPETENT AS YOU. The only one that came close was the ULTIMATE PRINCESS. Well, also that really quiet guy, but that's for an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT REASON. Still, you do frequently chat with these lowly classmates of yours on Chat-chan, via your Chanhandle, WealthyLiterary.

==>

Because he knew you were about to ask, he demonstrates his CREDIT CARD MODUS for you. When an item is captchalouged, the card must be swiped on order for the item to be freed. It's reserved for only the rich, he tells you. You don't particuallarly care.

==>

He now takes the time to show off his MEGAPHONEKIND. A pull of the trigger releases an electric blast. As much as you don't want to care, you have to agree it's pretty cool.

==>

"Uwuu! Someone wants to chat with you!☆"

==>

"If it's her, I swear...".

==> Byakuya: Is it her?

No it's not. It seems that MysteriousRamen wanted to chat.

==> Byakuya: Chat against your better judgement.

You chat against your better judgement. The conversation wasn't all that bad. Seems that there's a thief in the school. You hope they get caught. You don't need any of your precious items stolen.

==> *Knock knock*

You hope this isn't the set-up of an incredibly juvenile joke.

==> Byakuya: Check the door.

That doesn't seem to be the case. You do have mail, however.

==> Byakuya: Examine mail.

SBURB Beta. Sounds like a video game. You don't do video games.

==>

"Uwuu! ☆"

==>

OH GOD, IT'S HER.

==> Byakuya: Attempt to deter.

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

PL: Byakuya...

WL: Go away.

PL: I swear, I-I'm not hitting on you this time! O~O

WL: Leave me alone.

PL: I'm being s-serious! OnO

WL: Fine, but if you even attempt to make a pass at me, I will hit block user.

PL: I understand...

PL: Did you...happen to recieve any mail?

WL: Please don't tell me this is yours.

PL: W-what? No! Ò.Ó

WL: Then yes. I happened to recieve two envelopes today for SBURB Beta.

PL: Was there both a server and client disk?

WL: Yes. Why do you ask?

PL: I recieved one too...

WL: Odd. I don't remember anyone even mentioning this game.

PL: I can say for certain that this isn't your everyday game...

WL: Elaborate.

PL: I chatted with Cookiecutter earlier. He says he made it with some help.

WL: Oh, really?

PL: He plans on all of us playing it. H-he says it'll be fun O*O

WL: Are you sure he didn't send this to me on accident?

PL: He gave one to everybody. He seems passionate about it, so...m-maybe I'll give it a go.

WL: You? Playing a video game?

PL: I-it would help me socialize.

PL: Whether or not you play is up to you.

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] ceased chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

==>

Wow. You almost can't believe it. You actually had a normal conversation with her. As for this game, you're thinking about playing it, but you aren't quite sure.

==>

"Uwuu!☆"

==>

gothicSnakeeyes [GS] began trolling WealthyLiterary [WL]

GS: Play the game, douchebag ;3

gothicSnakeeyes [GS] ceased trolling WealthyLiterary [WL]

==>

Great. Now internet trolls are after you. You dismiss the person watching to deal with with the troll.

==> Person watching: Watch someone else.

...

OH GOD, IT'S HER.

ACT ONE: OH GOD, IT'S HER

OH GOD IT'S HER. Large round glasses, uneasy smirk, two neat braids, conservative clothing. Wait. Why are you so upset? This seems like a nice, civiliized lady. What could possibly be wrong with her? She says nothing, then looks away slightly. So shy...you'd be pretty surprised if this girl turned out to be a serial killer or something. She just says nothing. Hmm...

==> PROBABLY A SERIAL KILLER.

She cringes at the name.

==> FUKAWA TOUKO

She cringes at that one too, but slightly less.

==>

Your name is FUKAWA TOUKO. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE AUTHOR, you're expected to be SOCIABLE AND CHARISMATIC, but in reality, you're very SOCIALLY AWKWARD. You AVOID PEOPLE often, and REFUSE TO SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO. In your dorm, you have BOOKS, PAPER, AND PENCILS scattered about, and posters of HOT GUYS hang on your walls. You're a bit of a PERVERT when it comes to some things, but you do speciallize in ROMANCE NOVELS, so you have a bit of an excuse. Those excuses don't help when you're caught STALKING YOUR CRUSHES, however, which, unfortunately happen often. The current guy you have your eyes on just happens to be HOT, but a HUGE DOUCHE, just the way you like them. In spite of not being able to socialize in real life, you tend to chat on Chat-chan, under the chanhandle PsychoticLovestruck.

==> Touko: Fetch Modus, please.

Your fetch modus is the LIBRARY MODUS. When an item is captured, it turns into a book, and is stored into the sylladex. In order to access it again, you have to read the book, which is essentally a novel about that item. It's actually some pretty good material.

==> Touko: How about that strife specibus?

That? It's equipped with SCISSORKIND, it seems. She doesn't seem to want to touch it...

==> *Knock*

You wonder why they only knocked once. You're a bit offended by this. It doesn't seem like they're there anymore, so you decide to do something else.

==> Touko: Feed your stinkbug.

You feed your stinkbug. You found her when you were young. Her name is Kameko. You keep her in your dorm because everyone complains of her stench, but you don't care. Aftet all, she understands you better than anyone. If anything, you and that stinkbug are in it for the long haul.

==> Touko: Who knocked?

It seems that whoever was there has left something behind. Two somethings actually. You pick them up and instantly know who left them.

==> Touko: Chat to who left them.

PsychoticLovestruck [PS] began chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

PL: Is this...what you've been w-working on?

CP: Cool, right?

PL: What is it exactly?

CP: A game. Once I finish deliverin em, we're gonna play.

PL: Um...

CP: What's up?

PL: I don't...really d-do video games...ÕnÕ

CP: You'll enjoy this one. It'll be fun.

PL: ...what's i-it about?

CP: I don't fully know. I got some help from my troll friend.

PL: Ugh, I hate internet trolls. T-they make so much trouble.

CP: This one's good, don't worry. He's real helpful.

PL: S-so...the game?

CP: All I know is that we can like, manipulate out enviroments and shit. Plus, we need to use both the server an client disk.

PL: Manipulate environments? L-like a simulator, or...?

CP: I think the guy meant in reality.

PL: OõO

CP: Yeah, pretty awesome.

PL: I-i admit, I'm on board...

CP: I'm proud o ya! I'mma go make more deliveries.

PL: I guess I'll chat with you l-later...

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] ceased chatting with CookiecutterPepsicola [CP]

==>

You think you want to inform your crush about this...

==>

"Uwuu! ☆"

==>

...and here's a sidetracker.

==> Touko: Answer sidetracker.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] began chatting with PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

CC: YOO, TOUKO!

CC: DID U JUST GET A GAME?

CC: PLZ SAY YES! (☆)

PL: Yes...

CC: GOOD, I'M SEEIN' THINGS RIGHT THEN.

PL: Huh?

CC: WE'RE ALL GONNA PLAY THIS GAME, RIGHT? BUT IT'S SO MUCH MORE, LIKE, I CAN'T EVEN.

PL: Really? Ø.Ø

CC: DON'T SLANTY EYE ME!

CC: DUDE, I SAW METEORS CRASHIN INTO THE SCHOOL!

CC: AND LIKE, THESE COOL PJS

CC: PJS, TOUKO

PL: Remind me why I'm on the recieving end of this?

CC: You sound like Kyoko, smh.

CC: You were the first one I saw on my dash.

PL: Even still...why w-would I care?

CC: I'm at least 33% correct...

PL: Chat with me when you're not acting like a lunatic.

CC: BUT

PsychoticLovestruck [PL] blocked CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

==>

You'll unblock the guy when you're done chatting with Byakuya.

==> Touko: Think about cool pjs.

What? You already know about the cool pjs. At least in your dreams. You've even chronicled your adventures in the dream world. You can't help it. The ominous purple aura really brings out your creative side. In fact, it's inspired a good chunk of your stories. You kinda wonder if that guy's there too. After all, you've seen Kyoko, Byakuya, and a few others there too. Sound asleep, but there. You wonder if they'll awaken soon. Maybe you'll tell this to the crazy guy. Well, after chatting with Byakuya.

==> Touko: Chat with Byakuya.

You chat with Byakuya. He doesn't block you, and actually, he seems to listen to you this time. Maybe there is a chance...

"Uwuu! ☆"

"Huh?"

==>

trippyPillpopper [TP] began trolling PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

TP: *please talk to me* ]:'(

trippyPillpopper [TP] was blocked by PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

==>

You don't need any of this troll mess. You just can't deal with it. Instead, you go to bathe. After all, if you're going to be social, you might as well smell nice.

==> Veiwer: Considerately view someone else.

You considerately view someone else. Touko appreciates it, but now a random wierdo seems to be freaking out at your sudden arrival.

ACT ONE: RANDOM WEIRDO

A random weirdo looks at you. You look at a random weirdo. His hair sticks up in all directictions, he has the slightest beard stubble, and he gives off a very strong hobo aura. He also looks too old to even be in this school...and you'd be right. Then again, he was never the brightest bulb.

==> TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.

Okay, whoa. Calm down man, it was a joke. Just a joke...um...

It doesn't look like he's calming down anytime soon.

==> HAGAKURE YASUHIRO

" Huh?"

==>

Your name is HAGAKURE YASUHIRO. As Hope's Peak's ULTIMATE CLAIRVOYANT, you...don't really do much. Often, you'll offer to READ PALMS, and SEE INTO ONE'S FUTURE, but the STEEP PRICE usually turns others away. In your dorm, you have everything a shaman needs, CATCHY POSTERS, INTERESTING ARTIFACTS, and GIMMICKS GALORE. You would think that a BUSINESSMAN LIKE YOURSELF would stay out of SERIOUS TROUBLE, but it seems that a CERTAIN YAKUZA has a large TARGET ON YOUR BOUNTY. You haven't left your room since. Luckily, your classmates can supply you your work through Chat-chan, under the clever chanhandle CrystalClairvoyant.

==> Yasuhiro: Consult your fetch modus.

You have the CRYSTAL BALL MODUS. Rather than captchalouging spare items for later use, your modus captchalouges random items that you'll need for later use sometime in the future. Sometimes it's the near future, and others, practically months. It also doesn't help that you can't captchalouge immediately.

...looks like the crystal ball has sent a hamburger. Sweet!

==>

Whoops. It got stuck in that extra strife specibus card the crystal ball sent earlier. Now you have a FOODKIND to go along with your MAGICKIND. The MAGICKIND has a WAND inside. You haven't figured out how to work that yet, but when you do, all kinds of cool stuff's gonna happen.

==>

At least you have a use for the specibus portfolio you got months ago.

Hey, what's in the crystal ball now?

==> Yasuhiro: Look inside.

It looks like a copy of a game. Two copies of a game actually. Those had to be coming your way eventually. After all, the crystal ball modus knows all. Once you retrieve the card from the sylladex, you take the copies of the game and examine them. SBURB Beta, server and client copies. You haven't heard of this game before. It must be new on the market. You decide to see what it has in store via your clairvoyant powers.

==> Yasuhiro: See.

You take out the disks and hold them in your hands. Closing your eyes, you begin to see new, complex contraptions around your room. A hail of meteors rain outside, but then the scene shifts to a beautiful planet with little chameleons running around. At a moment, the scene blacks out, and you're on a planet of gold. You're wearing some pretty cool pjs.

==>Yasuhiro: Drop the disks.

You gently set the disks down. After that exclusive preview, you don't want those disks destroyed. Wait. It occurs to you...

"I GOTTA TELL SOMEONE ABOUT THIS!!"

==> Yasuhiro: Tell someone about this.

You tell someone about this! Unfortunately, they block you. Oh well. At least she listened to the majority of your spiel.

==>

"Uwuu!☆"

Oh boy.

==>

punkrockBallpark [PB] began trolling CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

PB: get hacked

CC: Nooo

PB: nice line driver t⊙ y⊙ur c⊙mputer

PB: tech tr⊙ll hit a h⊙me run

CC: Leave me be ;_;

PB: i've tr⊙lled y⊙u this l⊙ng, what makes y⊙u think i'm st⊙pping n⊙w?

CC: Why must you terrorize me so?

PB: eh, i'm b⊙red. my kismesis is ⊙ut d⊙ing whatever, s⊙ i'm just kinda here

CC: Kismesis?

PB: wh⊙⊙ps. i mean ⊙ne ⊙f y⊙ur human b⊙y/girlfriends

CC: In this case?

PB: b⊙yfriend

PB: Out there flying and shit

PB: y⊙u aren't dead, g⊙⊙d f⊙r y⊙u

PB: but it makes me hate him m⊙re, s⊙ i can't c⊙mplain

CC: Why do you want to hate your boyfriend ( ? )

PB: y⊙u're g⊙nna have t⊙ wait f⊙r that talk

CC: You realize I may be older than you...?

PB: i'm 9 sweeps

PB: translate it y⊙urself

punkrockBallpark [PB] ceased trolling CrystalClairvoyant [CC]

==>

You have no idea what sweeps are.

==> Yasuhiro: Ask someone what sweeps are.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

CC: Do you know what a sweep is?

WS: Something a broom does ~u~

CC: Haha! Nice. Seriously tho.

WS: No...I'll find out though.

==>

How rude. You came in just as she was about to find out.

ACT ONE: WELL, FIND OUT.

She looks around. She may have forgotten what she was doing already. Oh well, at least we can get on with the intro. A swirled ponytail, athletic clothing, and an inordinate amount of donut boxes? Certainly contradictory, but she seems to be in great shape, so you don't judge her. She offers you a donut. You would take it if you could reach through the screen. She apologizes, then eats the donut herself. You feel like you know this young lady's name...

==> DOUBLE D...ONUTS...

Nice save there.

==> ASAHINA AOI

"Hehe! Yeah!".

==>

Your name is ASAHINA AOI. You go to school at Hope's Peak Academy under the title of ULTIMATE SWIMMER. You do admit to feeling like a fish at times. Anyway, in your dorm is EVERYTHING YOU POSSIBLY NEED, including VARIOUS PLUSHIES, GIFTS FROM YOUR LITTLE BROTHER, AN AQUARIUM, A COMPUTER, and of course, DONUTS. LOTS OF THEM. You love donuts like crazy. Almost as much as you love swimming. You learned the hard way not to mix eating donuts and swimming. As much as you enjoy being at Hope's Peak, you miss having your old friends around, as NO ONE IS PASSIONATE AS SWIMMING AS YOU ARE. Maybe someday soon, you'll have a friend who ENJOYS A GOOD SWIM LIKE YOU DO. It would be nice. For now, at least, you chat with the friends you have on Chat-chan, under the chanhandle WaterloggedSprinkle.

==> Bzzz.

You look at an annoying fly and decide to use your BUBBLEKIND against it. A swift blow traps the fly in a large bubble. And they said that bubbles would be useless.

==>

You decide to captchalouge the bubbled fly in your HYDRATION MODUS. Basically, the cards in the sylladex are dehydrated, and in order to use an item, you need to put the card in some water. This usually backfires when you go for a swim in the school's pool.

==> Aoi: Isn't there supposed to be a knock now?

Nope. That happened a few minutes ago. At your door, you found two envelopes containing the game Sburb inside. You don't play video games often, but you think that this one's worth playing. At least it looks cool.

==> Aoi: Ahem?

What?

==> Aoi: Didn't you have a prior engagement?

Oh, that's right! You had to find out what the heck a sweep was. You think you may know someone who has that info.

==> Aoi: Chat with the troll.

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] began chatting with muscularProtienshake [MP]

WS: Heey.

WS: Would you happen to know what a sweep is?

MP: J(`v')J "why, yes, i do.".

MP: f(`o')J " a sweep is a year in alternia."

MP: h('v~)h "though it takes about two of your human years"

WS: Ooh, thank you!

MP: y(~v~)y

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] ceased chatting with muscularProteinshake [MP]

==>

WS: Hey, Yasuhiro?

WS: A sweep is about two human years.

CC: Good. Now I have to deal with this punk troll.

CrystalClairvoyant [CC] ceased chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

==>

Well that's that-

"Uwuu!☆"

==>

CookiecutterPepsicola [CP] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

CP: Hey Aoi. Pay attention. I have some instructions for ya.

WS: Go on.

CP: You need ta be the first server player.

WS: For Sburb?

CP: Yeh. You connect to Makoto, who'll connect to Kyoko, who'll connect to Byakuya, who'll connect to Touko, who'll connect to Yasuhiro, then he to you.

WS: Wait, why are we splitting up?

CP: From what I know, we're still gonna end up in the same session. By doin it like this, it should take a shorter time to get started.

CP: Essentially, I should be the last player in.

WS: I think I may understand. Should I communicate this to Makoto?

CP: I reccomend it. Also, start running your server copy. It takes a while for it to load.

WS: Got it! Thanks, Cookie!

CP: Ey, ain't nothin!

==>

You decide to keep him on in case you need help. After all, were doing this man. Were making this happen.

ACT ONE: WERE DOING THIS

==>

A young troll is travelling in the vast expanses of space. He has finished playing his session quite a while ago, and he was one of few in his session who went god teir...though he had to in order to live through his session, for he was on the brink of death when he entered his land. Assisting him is another troll who went god teir, as well as a consort from his land. The troll himself is the Page of Time, his assistant the Rouge of Life, and the consort so generously named Delegate Hornliza. At once, this troll stops what he's doing, and rushes back to home, or at least what he and many others call home now. The reason? Another session is about to start, and he swore to guard a certain player...

==> Aoi: Communicate with Makoto.

WaterloggedSprinkle [WS] began chatting with HopefulEgg [HE]

WS: Hey Makoto, good news!

HE: what is it?

WS: You get to be the first client player! How cool is that?

HE: pretty cool, i guess. cookiecutter tell you this?

WS: Yep, and I'm your server player!

HE: ah, sweet! do i enter in the disk or...

WS: Yeah, just put it in your computer. It should instantly hook you up to my server program.

==> Makoto: Insert the disk.

You put the disk in. Just like Aoi said, it connects to her server.

==>

HE: i have confirmation we're connnected.

WS: Oh cool, I can see you!

HE: wait what?

WS: You're the shy new guy? I would have never guessed!

HE: ...thanks.

WS: Okay...lets see. We start with a cruxtruder, alchemiter, totem lathe, and punch card designix, as well as some extra captchalouge cards.

WS: You may want to move some stuff out of the way.

HE: why?

==> Aoi: Deploy Cruxtruder.

*BANG*

==>

WS: That answer your question?

HE: i got it. so what's this do?

WS: It apparently deploys an unlimited amount of cruxite dowels according to this instruction pamplet Cookiecutter included. If you can get it opened.

HE: how am i gonna manage that? i'm kinda short...and weak.

WS: Wait, I have an idea!

==> Aoi: Act on your idea.

Using your cursor, you pick up Makoto's bed. He seems to be in protest of this idea, but you continue on nonetheless. After holding it directly over the Cruxtruder, you drop it on top. The bed almost breaks in half, but the Cruxtruder is now open. A small, flashy thing flies out as well.

==>

HE: um, aoi? any idea what that is?

WS: Consulting Cookiecutter's guide...it's a ...kernelsprite. try putting something in it.

==> Makoto: Put something in it.

You look around. There doesn't seem to be much you want to prototype in the Kernelsprite. A ton of stuff from the school shop, but...oh wait. You remember that pinned butterfly you got from a nature museum. Papillio xuthus, or something. You decide to grab the case, remove the lid, and toss the butterfly into the sprite.

*Swift Toss!*

The Kernelsprite and the dead butterfly fuse, creating the Butterflysprite.

==>

HE: okay, what was the significance of that?

WS: You'll see later. For now, get a cruxite dowel from the cruxtruder by operating the crank.

==> Makoto: Operate the crank.

You push the crank with all of your might...just a bit more strength ought to do it...and...nope. Nothing. Nice try, Macookem.

==> Aoi: Pity assist.

You pity assist Makoto. With the magic of the cursor, you push the crank and extract a cruxite dowel.

==>

HE: what's next?

WS: The...totem lathe. Clear some room, Makoto!

HE: alright, alright!

==> Makoto: Clear some room.

You remove some random items from the floor in order to make room for the Totem Lathe.

==>

WS: Whoops...

HE: what now?

WS: The totem lathe isn't going to do much without the punched capchalouge card.

HE: so we need the designix?

WS: Actually, there's a pre-punched card included.

HE: oh good. also...what's this countdown for?

WS: What's it set for?

HE: four hours and thirteen minutes now.

WS: I think we'll be fine. I'm dropping the punched card in now.

==> Makoto: Examine the pre-punched card.

Yep. That card's punched alright.

==>

WS: Now put the cruxite dowel into the lathe and slide the card into the scanner.

==> Makoto: Do what she said.

You do what she said. The Totem Lathe carves the dowel into an intricate totem. These things are appropriately named.

==> *CRASH*

WS: What was that??

HE: i...don't know :(

==> *CRASH*

WS: I think something's happening outside.

HE: should i check?

WS: No. I have to get you into the session so you can connect to Kyoko. I'll probably check it later though.

HE: okay. so i have the dowel carved. what do i do now?

WS: I need to put in the alchemiter. This will read the code on the totem and create an item that you'll need to utilize in order to enter your session.

HE: oh, okay. let me make more space.

==> Makoto: Make more space.

You scoot your bed over to the side of the room, then oush aside some random items. That should be enough.

==> Aoi: Deploy Alchemiter.

You place the Alchemiter in the area Makoto cleared.

==>

WS: Boom! Alchemiter!

HE: so just put the totem on the pedistal and press a few buttons?

WS: That's pretty much it!

==> Makoto: Use the Alchemiter.

It takes a moment, but the device eventually scans the dowel and makes...a flower. You think you know what to do...

==>

You pick up the flower by its pot and turn to face Butterflysprite. It slowly flies toward it, then sticks out it's proboscsis and drinks the nectar. As Butterflysprite drinks, a white light consumes Makoto. As he enters the session, the troll waits for the right time to communicate. After all, one slip up could make the difference.

==> ACT ONE: WITHIN THE MEDIUM

==>

A HALCYON EASTGOER travels upons the vast expanses of dry, deserted land. He doesn't know where he's going, or where he'll end up. All he knows is that he'll be there soon.

==> Makoto: Communicate with Aoi

HE: so...that happened.

WS: I can't believe this! You're literally in the game!

HE: yeah, so is my room...which is miss a couple walls.

WS: I'd be able to build on it if we had more build grist.

HE: build grist?

WS: The stuff you need to build on to your dorm. Looks like you're gonna need a lot.

HE: amazing. just perfect. how do i get grist?

WS: The pamphlet says you need to kill underlings and collect their spoils.

HE: underlings?

WS: Yep. They should be getting near you any moment.

HE: you realize i can't waste my time on this, right? i need to get whoever my client is into the session.

WS: I know. By the way, it's Kyoko.

HE: kyoko? oh...

WS: What?

HE: it's nothing.

WS: Mmhmm.

WS: The more you try to hide, the more obvious you are.

HE: :C

WS: Don't worry, I'll keep it a secret.

HE: what good is that gonna do? i like more than one person anyway.

WS: MAKOTO, BEHIND YOU!

==> Aoi: Squash the imp.

. . . *SQUISH*

"Did you have to use my Midnight Crew comics for that?!"

==> Makoto: Collect spoils.

Looks like you've gone up to six whole build grist. That's going to do absolutely nothing.

==>

WS: Okay, here's an idea. I'll fend off the imps while you connect to Kyoko.

HE: good idea.

WS: Team break!

==>

"E¥. ¥a jus up an' left me. \/\/hat the glub \/\/as that all about?"

"My 4p010g13s! 1 h4d a pr10r 3ng4g3m3n7 th4t c0u1d n0t b3 pu7 0n h01d!"

( My apologies! I had a prior engagement that could not be put on hold!)

"\/\/hat? I'm ¥er motherglubbin' matesprit, I am ¥er prior fingagement."

" Y3s, 1 4m w3ll 4w4r3 0f 0ur m4t3spr17sh1p, 8ut 7h1s c0u1d n0t w41t!"

(Yes, I am well aware of our matespritship, but this could not wait!)

"Bullshrimp."

"W47ch y0ur l4ngu4g3!"

(Watch your language!)

"Shell, if \/\/e \/\/ere still on Alternia, I'd be th' glubbin' emperor by no\/\/."

"Mmhmm, 4nd wh47 w0u1d b3c0m3 0f m3?"

(Mmhmm, and what would become of me?)

"¥a'd be my peasant-blooded matesprit, that's \/\/hat."

"Y0u kn0w 1 d0 n07 3nj0y 7h3 us3 0f 7h47 d3r0g4t0ry 73rm! 83s1d3s, 7h3 3n71r37y 0f 4173rn14 w0u1d r107! 4 fush14-b100d w1th 4 v3rm1111on! 1 c4n h34r 7the pr073s7s fr0m h3r3!"

(You know I do not enjoy the use of that derogatory term! Besides, the entirety of Alternia would riot! A fushia-blood with a vermillion! I can hear the protests from here!)

"The¥ couldn't do a glubbin' thing. ¥er the matesprit, not them."

"Y0u kn0w, H1s 1ns4n17y Crys7411ys4710n k1113d h1s H473m473. "

(You know, His Insanity Crystallization killed his Hatemate)

"His Insanity Crystallization also up and left the glubbin planet and...oh yeah, was a big, cod-suckin tyrant."

"7h47 1s n0 w4y 7o sp34k 0f H1s 1ns4n17y!"

(That is no way to speak of His Insanity!)

" ¥ou shoal about that?"

"...1 4dm17, 7h3y h4d 70 c411 h1m H1s 1ns4n17y f0r 4 r34s0n."

(I admit, they had to call him His Insanity for a reason.)

"Told ya."

"S7i11, 1 h4v3 4 k1sm3s1s b4ck 47 h0m3 7h47 1'v3 b4r31y p41d 4773nt710n 70, 4nd 7h3r3 1s s0me0n3 1 mus7 a773nd 70!"

(Still, I have a kismesis back at home that I've barely paid attention to, and there is someone I must attend to!)

"First of all, glub your kismesis, and second, \/\/e \/\/ere kinda in the middle of-"

"4s much 4s 1'd 11k3 70 dr4g 7h1s 0n, 1 mus7 134v3."

(As much as I'd like to drag this on, I must leave.)

"But-"

"W47ch 4f73r H0rn11z4 wh113 1'm 4w4y!"

(Watch after Hornliza while I'm away!)

"..."

".....fine...."

==> Makoto: Communicate with Kyoko

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

HE: do you have your copies of the game ready?

MR: Yes. Yes I do.

HE: get ready for some intense instructions. when they you're going into the session, you're going into the session.

MR: Of course I will.

HE: alright, don't say i didn't warn you...

ACT ONE: SECOND PLAYER

==> Makoto: Run your server application.

==> Kyoko: Run your client application.

==>

HopefulEgg [HE] began chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

HE: alright, we should be connected now.

MR: Yes, I see the confirmation on the computer. What happens now?

HE: i have to put in some fancy techological junk into your room. by the way, i can see you

MR: ....

HE: anyway, you might want to clear some room, this stuff is pretty big

MR: Noted. You never told me who you were.

MR: By the way.

HE: oh yeah. um. later.

MR: Why am I not surprised?

HE: well, thats not important! what needs to happen now is that you successfully get into the session. right now, im going to put in this cruxtuder thing. when you open it, a kernelsprite will come out. it seems to like dead things, so put something dead in it.

MR: Will the bones of a desceased family member work?

MR: That being the example.

MR: I don't have any dead family member's bones...

HE: ...

HE: im just gonna put in these gizmos now...

==>

Meanwhile, years in the future, but not many, a Mindful Refuge finds herself roaming the expanses of a dry and sandy desert...

==>

In the same time, but different location, the Halcyon Eastgoer seems to have found some sort of shuttle. He messes around with it for a bit before finding a way to open the door. Curious, he wanders inside, only for the door to slam shut behind him. It seems that he will be stuck there for a while...

==> Page of Time: Is it time yet?

Oh, no no no. It's nowhere near time now! He hasn't even stepped foot on his land yet; how could it possibly be time yet? Besides, there's a specific system to this yet to happen chain of conversations...at least yet to happen for him. Man, you love these time shenanigans. Anyway, you decided that this would work like a clock; clockwise for him, counterclockwise for you. It's simple really; (12=1)(11=2)(10=3)(9=4)(8=5)(7=6)(6=7)(5=8)(4=9)(3=10)(2=11)(1=12). You're really looking forward to the 7=6 meetup. This meet, you two will talk in real life! At least, the one of you still on his timeline. Once again, thank you time shenanigans.

==> Rouge of Life: How's it hangin?

"Go glub ¥ourself."

Wow, rude.

==> Makoto and Kyoko: Any Progress?

Actually, yes. All Cruxtruder, Totem Lathe, and Alchemiter have been deployed, and the kernelsprite has been prototyped with a bee that had flown into it accidentally.

==> Kyoko: Add in a secret sauce.

What sauce? All you have is this box that may or may not have the bones of your father, the headmaster, who may or may not be dead.

==>

Swift toss!

==>

Beesprite is now Jinsprite.

==>

Makoto is now thouroughly weirded out.

==>

HE: uh...

MR: What?

HE: just...use the totem...

MR: You're judging me.

HE: yep

MR: At least you were honest.

==> Kyoko: Alchemize.

The carved totem creates...a box, with the word evidence engraved on the side. You've seen enough detective movies to know what to do with this.

==>

With a bit of effort, Kyoko lifts the box and carries it to her window. Staring outside, she notices that the weather has changed, and that there are a few craters in the distance. She decides to use this to her advantage, and toddes the box out of the window. Something comes outbof the sky and destroys it, maybe a meteor, but she does not see this happen, for as soon as the item was hot, she was transported into the session.

ACT ONE: Land of Snowstorms and Thought

==> Kyoko: Where are you?

She doesn't exactly know. Some of the walls on her room have vanished, and she is now quite cold. In the distance, she sees a whirl of flurries dance their way to the ground, and a group of shivering reptiles. One thing for sure; she isn't at Hope's Peak anymore.

==> Kyoko: Get in touch with the Egg.

MR: I'm cold.

HE: looks like you are.

MR: Is your place anything like this?

HE: nope. actually, it's called a medium. i think you may be on a specific land though.

MR: Interesting...perhaps you have yet to make it to your land?

HE: most likely. sprinkle's working on that though.

MR: Do you at least have walls?

HE: she's still on that. right now she's kinda protecting me from imps and stuff though so...

MR: Imps?

HE: oh yeah, stuff's going to try to attack you.

MR: Aren't I someone's server player?

HE: WL.

MR: That douche? Also, you could use names.

HE: i know, i'm just annoying you.

MR: Quite hilarious.

HE: :)

MR: It was a joke.

HE: :(

MR: So, what's your plan? Help WS get you to your land or keep back imps while I get WL in?

HE: which do you prefer?

MR: Honestly, I can hold my own. Though I am cold.

HE: are you sure?

MR: Yes. Help WS. I'll get WL in.

HE: alright, but keep me on standby.

MR: Will do.

==> Kyoko: Talk to Jinsprite.

Kyoko: So...how's being a ghost thing?

Jinsprite: I admit, not the first time I thought about thiszz.

Kyoko: Also, the bee thing..?

Jinsprite: Eh, it doeszzn't bother me. Though...how did you have my remainszz on hand?

Kyoko: The police let me keep them. I know, so irresponsible.

Jinsprite: I mean, I szzuppose it was foolish of me to partake in a volunteer zzspace expedition.

Kyoko: Without telling me.

Jinsprite: Yeah...at least I know szzome szztuff about this game.

Kyoko: Oh really? Like?

Jinsprite: Your land izzs called the Land of Szznowstormzzs and Thought.

Kyoko: Hmm...anything important about that name?

Jinsprite: Don't you have szzomething to do?

Kyoko: Ah, if there was anything I missed, it was your ability to hold a secret.

==> Kyoko: Chat with the Wealthy.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WealthyLiterary [WL]

MR: Put in your disks.

WL: Time already?

MR: Oh yeah. Hurry up, I'm freezing here.

WL: What?

MR: You'll find out why later.

WL: Fine. I'm running them now. What else do I need to do?

MR: Clear some space in your room.

WL: What did Cookiecutter do now?

MR: I can certainly say it's something.

WL: Okay, my room has some cleared spaces.

MR: I see. Ah, so you are Byakuya.

WL: You can see me?

MR: Yes, just like Egg saw me, and Sprinkle saw Egg.

WL: Wait, I'm not the first one in the game?

MR: Nope. That was Egg.

WL: I'm slightly offended.

MR: When are you not? Whatever, we need to get started.

==> Makoto: How's the imp slaying?

This was the first time he used his specibus...and surprisingly, it's going well. At least imps are dying quicker, and grist can be collected quicker. Though, there's something about these...

==>

HE: hey, have you ever noticed these guys looking a bit odd?

WS: Uh, yeah. I checked Cookie's pamphlet. You know that stuff you put inside your sprite? I think everyone's affect what the imps look like.

HE: that's why they look like late principal kirigiri.

WS: Mixed with a butterfly and a bee. Seems like after entry prototypes don't affect them though. Is that a picture of your sister?

HE: yeah, why?

WS: Prototype Butterflysprite with it.

HE: uh, okay.

==>

*Swift Toss*

==>

Butterflysprite is now Komarusprite.

"Uh..."

"Hey bro!"

==> Makoto: Talk to Komarusprite.

Makoto: Could you help me with these imps?

Komarusprite: Sure.

Makoto: Also, is this really you or..?

Komarusprite: It's actually me! Mixed with a butterfly.

Makoto: But what about Earth?

Komarusprite: Actually...I kinda died...

Makoto: Huh?!

Komarusprite: These meteors were barreling down on us at home and while mom and dad got out I didn't...

Makoto: You say that like that's normal...

Komarusprite: I didn't feel anything when it happened. It just did. And now I'm here with you, as a ghosty thing!

Makoto: I guess that's a plus, but what about mom and dad?

Komarusprite: Well, um...huh.

Makoto: ...

Komarusprite: ...

Makoto: Let's just.. fight these guys.

Komarusprite: Yeah...

==> Page?

Everything's going delightfully to plan! It shouldn't be long now...

==> Kyoko and Byakuya?

WL: I'm sorry, what?

MR: Take Shinobu's ashes and put them in the Cricketsprite.

WL: You think I'm going to desecrate my half sister by tossing her ashes into some bug/sprite abomination?

MR: ',:)

WL: You disturb me.

MR: Wasn't she your secretary anyway?

WL: Does it make a difference?

MR: No.

WL: ...

==>

*Swift Toss*

==> Byakuya: Talk to Shinobusprite.

Shinobusprite: Why me?

Byakuya: I respected you enough to keep your urn.

Shinobusprite: When I was told I would get another chance at life by some offbeat clairvoyant, this wasn't what I was thinking.

Byakuya: I missed you as well...

Shinobusprite: *chirp chirp*

Shinobusprite: Fused me with a cricket, huh?

Byakuya: It jumped in...

==>

MR: Fun, yes?

WL: She's resentful.

MR: You're surprised by this?

WL: Just give me my next instruction now.

MR: Use the carved totem with the Alchemiter.

==>

Shinobusprite: Already done...

==>

WL: Alright...a stack of cash? What am I going to do with that?

MR: You know. ;)

==> Byakuya: Make it rain.

You make it rain as a meteor crashes in the distance. Looks like it crashed into the Conclomerate. This is the least of your concerns, however, as a white light engulfs your room...

==> Years in the future, but not many...

A WISE LONER comes across a destroyed building. He looks around. No one is near him. Not even close. Suddenly, something begins to rise from the ground in the near distance. Curious, he gravitates toward it. Perhaps, there will be someone there, waiting for him...

ACT ONE: Land of Heatwaves and Fortune

==>Byakuya: How's the weather?

HOT. So hot that you feel the need to remove some of your clothes. But you don't because that's aginst your protocol. Seriously though, why the heck is it so hot out here?!

==>

You look out across the land you ended up in. You see towers of gold and silver, and even some of crystals. Across this sweltering place, you notice some sort of reptillian creatures seemingly unphased by the heat. Shinobusprite also looks unphased. Are you the only one roasting here?!

==> Byakuya: Consult Shinobusprite.

Byakuya: Well, any idea of where we are?

Shinobusprite: We are in your medium, more specifically, the Land of Heatwaves and Fortune.

Byakuya: I understand the heatwave part, but fortune?

Shinobusprite: That, too, will play a role in your session. I can't tell you yet, though.

Byakuya: You don't habe to act like a secretary anymore, Shinobu.

Shinobusprite: It's Shinobusprite now, Byakuya.

Shinobusprite: *chirp chirp*

Byakuya: Fine...who are they?

Shinobusprite: Those reptiles are desert tortises, and they will be your consorts, your loving helpers.

Byakuya: What does that make you?

Shinobusprite: As your sprite, I am your guide. Nowhere did it say I had to be loving.

Byakuya: ...

==> Byakuya: Let Ramen know their mistake.

WL: Let's see. My sprite hates me, and my land is as hot as Hell. What is this game again?

MR: SBURB. Wow, at least I could wrap myself in a blanket.

WL: Aside from my land, and my obvious issues with my sprite, what the heck am I supposed to do?

MR: You need to get the next player in. I'm sure Sprinkle or Cookiecutter know who it'll be.

WL: Why don't you find out?

MR: Yeah, okay.

==> Kyoko: Find out.

MysteriousRamen [MR] began chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WL]

MR: You're Egg's server, yes?

WS: Yep!

MR: Did Cookiecutter tell you the order we enter in?

WS: Yes! First was Makoto, then you, then Byakuya, then Touko, then Yasuhiro, then me.

MR: Hold on. That's just our class, or some of our class. What about the other class? Surely he's playing with them.

WS: Well, duh, but they won't start until we're all in.

MR: Ah, so once you're in whatever land you have, you'll tell him?

WS: That's the plan. Although...I am worried they may not make it in time.

MR: What's going on at Earth?

WS: Meteors are crashing all around. I'm surprised the internet hasn't been knocked out.

MR: Oh my. Stay safe, Aoi.

WS: You got it!

MysteriousRamen [MR] ceased chatting with WaterloggedSprinkle [WS]

==> Kyoko: Give Byakuya that sweet info.

MR: Guess what?

WL: Just tell me.

MR: You bring in Touko.

WL: PsychoticLovestruck?!

MR: I think that's her.

WL: As if my session couldn't get any worse...

WealthyLiterary [WL] ceased chatting with MysteriousRamen [MR]

==> Meanwhile...

The Mindful Refuge notices someone in the distance...but is he friend...or foe?

==> Byakuya: Let's get this over with.

WealthyLiterary [WL] began chatting with PsychoticLovestruck [PL]

WL: Who is it this time?

PL: You know who ♡□♡

WL: You know what? No. I'm not doing this with you.

PL: Oh, come on, ya know I'm more fun than she is ',8)

WL: I'm blocking.

PL: Ugh. You're soooo playing hard to get U♡Ó

WL: What even is that?!

PL: A winky face U3Ó

WL: Get her now.

PL: Fine...ÒnÓ

==> Touko: Where are you?

You're in your cool pajamas right now. It's a nice tradeoff. When...she...is out, you are here, and of course, the other way around. It's nice, being in this dream world. You dispose of your cares here. You fly without chains. Sometimes, you wonder what she does when she's here. Other times, you try to wake your friends. They're there too, but they're always asleep. You leave notes and letters every time you visit them, though. At least let them know you were there.

==>

She's trying to wake you up, but you don't want to go. Not yet...

==>

Seriously, stop. You aren't going back.

==>

PL: Okay, slight little problem.

WL: What...

PL: She's refusing to come to. Probably off on dream world again.

WL: Dream world? Now I've heard everything.

PL: I'm serious! It's like purple and dark, and there are people there, but they're like...covered in some black shell thing.

WL: A carapace?

PL: Yeah, we'll call it that. There's a golden one too. I've seen both. There's also these towers with everyone else in them, though I'm not sure why they won't wake up. It's like...you have to be conscious enough to wake up here...

WL: Alright, fine. I'll get you into the game then, and I guess I'll fill her in later.

PL: Yesss

WL: On one conditon.

WL: No flirting. At all.

PL: Hmmm.....

PL: Can I write them on a piece of paper?

WL: As long as you don't tell me.

PL: Deal! Now, tell me what to do.

==> Mindful Refuge: Inspect the loner.

It looks like he's heading toward the building rising out of the ground. You squint your eyes to see him better. It looks like he doesn't notice you at all. You aren't sure whether or not that's good. After all, you're seeking to find a place of your own. Slowly, you back away. As you do, your foot touches a hard surface, not at all like the sand you feel. You dust away the remaiming grains of sand to see some sort of symbol. Surprised, you jump up. This requires some investigation.

==>

As this happens, you fail to notice the PEASANT LIGHTHEARTED wandering in the distance...

==>

WL: I'll repeat this one more time. You can put whatever you want into the kernelsprite.

PL: Anything?

WL: Anything.

PL: In that case...

==>

You open your drawer to find your not-so-secret stash of model magazines. Cosmopolitan...Vogue...ah, Playboy! Slowly, you tear out a poster of a rather risque woman and toss it into the sprite, which becomes a...Modelsprite.

==>

SQUISH

==>

Huh? Kameko?! You should have seen this coming. She was always a sneaky one. Luckily, you were going to need her anyway.

==>

*Sprite Ex-Machina!*

This was used several times already.

==>

Modelsprite is now Kamekosprite.

==>

WL: I'm almost surprised you didn't prototype a photo of me.

PL: What?! I'm not THAT obsessive!

WL: Yet you put your stinkbug with a model...

PL: She wanted to be pretty. Did ya think I sat around and looked at that smut?

WL: You didn't?

PL: No, I do.

WL: Disgusting.

PL: You asked! Now what's next?

WL: Get one of those dowels of cruxite and carve it with the totem lathe.

==>

Kamekosprite: Ooh, what are you doing, Syo?

Syo: Trying to start some game.

Kamekosprite: Is that why you mixed me with the pretty lady?

Syo: Well yeah. You're joining the ride, too.

Kamekosprite: Aw, thank you...though did you have to do the one from Playboy?

Syo: It was the only one with a poster that didn't have an ad for cologne on the back.

Kamekosprite: But...I smell bad...

Syo: Nonsense, you smell amazing.

Kamekosprite: *w*

==>

WL: How nice. You and your sprite get along.

PL: Wait, can you see me?!

WL: I thought you knew.

PL: Damn, if I did, I...

PL: won't say what I'd do.

==>

*Noice Save!*

==>

WL: Totem?

PL: Lathed.

PL: What's up with your sprite?

WL: Let's just say Shinobu didn't like being my secretary as much as I thought.

PL: Eh, she'll come to realize that you love her, too.

WL: She's also part cricket, so...

PL: Like Kameko is half model?

WL: Correct.

WL: Syo.

PL: Yes?

WL: ...

WL: Put the totem on the Alchemiter. It'll make the item you need to enter your land.

PL: Okie.

==>

Kamekosprite: Allow me.

==>

PL: Seriously? A book? I read enough of those to get my stuff out of the fetch modus.

WL: Well, what would Genocider Syo do to the book?

PL: Ahh...

==> Syo: Do what you'd do to the book.

You get your scissors from your strife specibus and go to work cutting up the book. You feel Touko cringing within you as you desecrate the piece of literature, but personally, you couldn't care less...that is, until an unprompted sneeze switches you two. Gosh darn it, why doesn't she tell you this beforehand? Why couldn't she do the sneeze earlier? Still, she takes over as your room is covered in white...

#danganronpa #super dangan ronpa 2 #danganronpa fanfiction #homestuck #homestuck universe #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #byakuya togami #touko fukawa #yasuhiro hagakure #aoi asahina #more tags

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gigsoupmusic · 5 years

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Jason & The Rex Goes In-Depth about New Video "Bullets Are Flying" - Exclusive Interview

Recently debuting with an activist video on gun violence, Jason & The Rex is stepping onto the scene with "Bullets Are Flying". A mixture of hip-hop, future-funk, and dream-pop combine to create a dense soundscape of vibrant horns, a melancholy piano lead, and strange-sounding synths. Jason's pensive, sometimes manic, flow washes over creating a dialogue on the gun violence issue in the US. Jason was kind enough to sit down and give GIGSoup the exclusive inside scoop on the creation and inspiration behind "Bullets Are Flying". https://youtu.be/g5DTa6cvfcs Tell us about writing the song "Bullets Are Flying"…. what emotions were you feeling at the time? Chaotic. Disoriented. There’s a scene in Dario Argento’s Suspiria where one of the characters falls into a pit of barbed wire. The more she tries to escape, the more she bleeds. It’s a mangled inner conflict. That’s kind of how I felt when I was writing “Bullets Are Flying.” I felt more and more entangled in a barbed wire mess of thoughts and emotions and political jabs and daily, present concerns. When the Parkland incident happened, I was already feeling very professionally and creatively stalled. I’m an actor by vocation. At the time, I was going for a lot of Chinatown thug types -- violent, gun-wielding, angry Asian dudes. I was getting rejected over and over again for projects that I didn’t really even believe in. I felt inauthentic as an artist. Music was supposed to be my outlet, but everything I created was stale and uninspired. And the worst part, I felt like I was failing as a citizen. I was -- and still am -- a reasonably privileged adult who has skills and a higher education. The gun crisis stripped teenagers of their adolescence, and those teenagers responded by standing up to the gun lobby and the politicians they controlled. What was I doing? Beating myself up because, after several attempts, I still couldn’t land a part as a stereotype on Iron Fist? Something snapped after Parkland. All the “thoughts and prayers” and familiar rallying cries came to a fever pitch, and I just started writing down…stuff. I was trying to express grief, to articulate my panic and anger, while also trying to provide commentary. I wanted to find an explanation. And someone to blame. A way out. Or a way forward. I wanted to crack the code on gun violence. I was also coming to terms with my guilt. My social posturing. My vanity in all of this. In trying to create this piece, was I turning the attention to myself? It wasn’t joyous or inspiring. It was a regurgitation of all the thoughts and feelings -- all the stuff -- I hadn’t processed.

The refrain of the song actually came to me much earlier, quite randomly. I like to think it’s because it’s more of a passive observation. Bullets are flying. Where? And why? While they fly, people are mourning. These are constants. Whereas, the two verses -- they’re snapshots of that gloomy winter morning when I was pacing back and forth on my bed trying to make sense of Parkland. It’s like I was trying to extricate myself from the gun culture and the epidemic it has created. But every thought would just pull me back into the mess. Barbed wire. Can’t help thinking about it. Gun violence. Mass shootings. I dream of ways to reshape gun culture. But, uh oh, gun culture has shaped giant parts of who I am. And I contribute back into gun culture. Not only do I love a bloody action thriller. I routinely express my love for John Wayne movies. I think the Punisher is a pretty cool anti-hero. In debating and discussing issues related to gun violence, we shout into our echo chambers while attacking opposing views. We display our alliances. We present ourselves on a side. Scoring our solidarity points is just as essential to gun culture as shooting the guns themselves. In writing this song, I was incredibly self-conscious. Was I just filling my notebook with solidarity points and quips from self-reflection? I offered my perspective on gun violence, while simultaneously reflecting and taking apart that perspective. I felt angry and powerful. But I also felt guilty and insignificant. Is saying something mostly an empty gesture? Probably. But not saying something is equally, if not more, disconcerting. Maybe this song is entirely descriptive of this emotional purgatory I create after a mass shooting like Parkland, where processing anything is just squirming in my barbed wire, while bullets are flying. What is your favorite lyric in the song? "I’m an actor, so I know how to weep. "

There are lots of hidden layers and meaning in the video… can you tell us what some of those are and why you chose to include them? I’m pretty fluid with my interpretation of the video. But most days, it goes something like this: Setting - The characters are in a place of purgatory. It’s that place I create when I’m trying to process gun violence. They may or may not know each other. Screens - On the screens, the characters stare at scenes involving their physical selves. Characters - I play the boy, and we designed the look to reflect someone in a prestigious position. On the TV’s, he’s probably a politician of some sort. I don’t think that’s who the boy is in real life, especially if the boy is me. But in this particular place of purgatory (maybe there are multiple rooms in purgatory), I’m presenting the politically active parts of myself. The dancer might be a whole separate character. She’s someone directly impacted by political leaders and their decisions. So in this place, we have a civic leader and someone he impacts. Seen this way, let’s say the boy is fried in the beginning. He’s lost his will. Been in purgatory too long. The dancer enters. Maybe she sees a party she’s currently attending in the real world. She pulls the boy out of his funk. They are actual human beings who can connect. When we hear about gun violence, our screens create abstracts of the event and the victims. But here in purgatory, the two have to make actual, physical contact. Their actions directly impact each other. Movement - There is a loose choreography. But, mainly, Ashley (the dancer) and I created a structure and improvised within it. Basically, there’s a struggle in the beginning. Japanese Butoh definitely informs the early interactions in the video, as the style can create a sense of shared grief. The movement becomes more playful and celebratory, which I think reflects another convoluted part of processing gun violence. After Parkland, I sunk into a pit of melancholy for probably no more than half a day and then I was out with my friends. We’d talk about mass shootings, but then we’d goof off, and the topic eventually recedes, until we’ve tuned it out completely (though temporarily). In the video, the TV screens are upfront and center in the beginning, but then the movement draws our attention to the characters themselves. There’s an ominous outro, where we intercut to the party-goers on the screens lying facedown on a roof. Lives lost to gun violence? In the purgatory place, we only have close-ups of the characters, many of which focus on the hands in spell-like gestures. The issue of gun violence does seem to have this elusive, enigmatic quality. So maybe whatever happens between these two in this purgatory has some ineffable effect in the world.

What do you hope fans gain as a result from watching/listening to your art? Mostly, I hope this keeps the conversation going. Like I said about the video, the topic always recedes, often because the screens start showing other things to us. As artists, I think we can keep things front and center. It’s funny. When I finished the video, I came across grandson’s “Thoughts and Prayers” single. For a whiff, I felt like my project would be redundant. But, of course, until it’s a non-issue, I say the more content we produce, the better. On a more practical note, I’m pledging all the royalties from this project towards organizations like March For Our Lives. So when people listen or watch, they are indirectly or directly (starting to really question my understanding of this concept) benefiting the cause. I think it allows listeners a little extra way to participate in reform measures. You had a hand in creating all of the aspects of the single… writing, producing, creating the video….. tell us about that process as an artist. How does it influence your work? It slows down the process by too much. No, but really, it allows complete ownership over the process, at least of the track itself. I’m entirely responsible for every aspect of it. Holding the work so precious does create a lot of room for self-doubt, but the fears of commitment also pushes for more experimentation. When I create tracks, it’s like I’m recording and re-mixing an exploration. Or maybe it’s like I’m a one-man jam band in my room. It certainly allows me to include weird ideas like recording the words “thoughts and prayers” and using that sample to create different drum sounds. You can’t really tell when you hear it, but I think it’s a fun little Easter Egg. As for the video, I came up with a structure, but this is where I wanted to open up the perspective. I’m kind of enjoying the thought that creating the track itself was like the boy in the video struck in purgatory alone. Then with the video, I’ve invited other perspectives, just as there’s now another person with the boy in purgatory. I’m a nerd, I know. But, yes, I think because I gave myself a clear foundation after working on the track, we were able to do a lot of exploring with the concept of the video, which then allows for its fluid interpretation. Fun fact: the video was originally supposed to involve a dancer and an agent of death battling over a remote that controls one single TV screen displaying a party. You've spoken about how you want your music to be a platform for activism….. what are some other issues you are passionate about? There are a lot. But I’m just going to list one here to emphasize how important it is. THE ENVIRONMENT. Tell us about your upcoming album….. what can fans expect to hear? It’s tentatively called Synthesizer or Variations of: An Endemic Cycle. The EP will have about 6or 7 songs that expand upon the narrative in “Bullets Are Flying.” Just as “Bullets Are Flying” is set in emotional purgatory, the other songs will be placed in their own settings. All the songs will fit into a narrative that has a circular structure. I’m designing musical themes that provide a through-line in the tracks. If you play the album and replay it, the narrative from the last track continues right into the first. You can start the album from any track, and the narrative will continue and circle back. I’m also creating visuals for each track. So if you were to edit them together in a specific and play it on loop, it might feel like one single never-ending movie no matter where you begin. Gun violence is so cyclical. You can enter into it at any point -- initial grief, debate, ennui, etc. --and it’ll eventually loop right back to where you started. How would you describe your musical sound? Musical genres are so bewildering to me. I guess I’ll say this: I’m sort of finding a hip-hop voice in other genres I love. They’re mainly psychedelic dream-pop, future funk, new wave, or even cinematic anime soundtracks. If my process were a scene, I’d like to imagine Childish Gambino getting really high and watching the news with Tame Impala, and maybe Jon Bellion barges in and blasts his new album. I don’t know that these are the sounds that come to mind if you were to listen to my work. But they’re certainly the sounds I’m after, sounds that provide a framework when I produce my music. Read the full article

#Jason&TheRex #newmusic

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emrysthemerlin · 8 years

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Fem! Barry One Shot

Alright I have a Headcannon for Fem! Barry Coldflash that it's not Iris it's Len who pulls her out of the speed force when she 'dies' trying to get her powers back. Also Gideon is super protective of Len cause Barry created her but he doesn't know that little fact yet. The waverider landed back in twenty sixteen Central City and Len smiled to himself. It had been one hell of a ride so far but he'd missed home. Sara was right they all needed a short break. Gideon flickered to life by the outer hatch Mick was standing next to but it wasn't opening. "I am afraid I cannot allow Mr. Snart to leave the waverider on this date." Len raised an eyebrow. This was months after they had left it should be fine for them to come back. "Why not Gideon?" The holographic AI turned to him. "My creator programmed me with certain dates she felt would be too dangerous for certain people." That raised Len's eyebrow. She. Gideon had never mentioned a creator before he'd always assumed Rip had built the AI. "Who's your creator Gideon? And why didn't she want me specifically leaving the ship today?" Gideon flickered as if deciding what to say. "My creator is Barry Allen and today is the day she dies." Silence rang through the hall as Len saw red. His speedster was going to die? Well he could not just sit back and allow that. With a jerk of the head at Mick who rushed out of the way he blasted his cold gun into the door before slamming his foot into it shattering the now brittle metal. Without a word he rushed off. Gideon looked up as if looking through the ceiling to the sky. "Atmospheric anomaly detected. Location Star Labs." Mick shouted the information after Len's retreating form and he got barely a nod in return as Captain Cold raced off to save his Scarlet Speedster. No one met him in the cortex, there almost didn't seem to be anyone around. He raced down the hall and found two people he didn't know out cold on the floor he checked their pulses, a touch fast, but there and he moved on. He found himself in a large lab where the nerd squad plus a few were staring as a speedster in black picked up what appeared to be the tattered remains of Barry's suit. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard as he laughed and held it up for the whole group to see. Len could just see what was happening from his spot hidden in the shadows of the hallway. "You tried to give the Flash back her speed? Congratulations you killed her instead." With that the speedster in black dropped the section of the suit and raced off paying none of them any attention as many of them burst into tears. A woman he recognized as Iris West from Barry's description of her sister sobbed into her fathers shoulder. The surprisingly alive Harrison Wells shook his head clearly in shock and the man at the console that showed nothing but flatlined vitals fell to his knees. Cisco raced past him Len himself unable to move. "What happened? Did it work? Where's Barry?" There was no reply. Len felt the cold gun drop from his hands and heard it clatter to the floor making everyone jump but he didn't care. Cisco had picked up the remaining piece of Barry's costume seemingly all that remained of the speedster herself. There were tears in his eyes and Len feeling he should do something to comfort one of Barry's best friends and Lisa's nerd laid a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly the world turned on its ear. Everything was a mess of lightning and wind swirling around them. Cisco didn't look nearly as freaked out as Len felt. He wasn't even looking at the thief, he was staring straight ahead of him eyes wide. Len looked up and saw why. Barry Allen stood before them her back facing them but very much alive and well. Then whatever had happened stopped and they were back in the lab staring at each other. Cisco shouted talking about vibes and Barry not being dead. Len didn't understand most of what he'd said but Barry being alive was the only thing he cared about. Hours later Cisco was trying to 'Vibe' Barry again whatever the hell that meant. Len was forced to stand to the side and wait as no one here trusted him around any of the equipment. The man who had been in front of the medical panel earlier stepped up to him two Star Labs mugs full of steaming coffee in his hands he handed one to Len and smiled, it was only a touch forced. "So what's Captain Cold doing at Star Labs so late?" He asked before taking a sip of his coffee. "I heard from a reliable source that something bad was going to happen to Barry. Thought I could come and help. Wasn't fast enough." Len stared down into the coffee he'd been brought. The man nodded. "You seem to care a lot about my daughter Len." Len looked up sharply. Studying the mans face he realized he did recognize him from Iron Heights. "Dr. Allen. Good to see you on the outside. They break you out or?" Len asked setting his coffee down on a nearby table. Henry Allen smiled. "Exonerated actually. Feels good to be out in the world again. You're the Len she told me about aren't you? The one she knew it wouldn't work out with because of your respective jobs but never got over?" Len took a sip of his coffee to forestall having to answer. Henry smiled. "I'm glad. You seem decent. And if she believes there's good in you then I believe it too." Len stared, coffee forgotten. "No offense sir but you don't even know me. We weren't exactly friends in Iron Heights. " Henry nodded. "True but I know my daughter. " He took another sip of his coffee watching as Cisco struggled to bring her back. "You seem very calm about all this." Len pointed out once again setting his barely touched coffee down. "I trust Cisco if he says she's still alive she's alive and we'll get her back." Len wished he could share the doctors optimism. Several hours and many a try later they were all but ready to throw on the towel. Every one of them had tried to pull Barry back excluding Len himself and she'd just turned and walked away further into wherever she was. It was getting harder and harder for him to even reach her. Len stepped forward taking off his parka. "Do you think you can reach her one more time?" He interrupted the argument about who was going next and they stared as if they'd forgotten he was there. Cisco nodded. "I think so but this might be our last shot." Len nodded. "I'm going in with you." Arguments began to spring from everyone but Cisco and Henry but Len cut across them. "You've all had your chance and she didn't come back. Did you ever think there might be a reason for that? Maybe Ramon is right, maybe she doesn't want to come back but if you think for one second that I am leaving her in the hands of you morons then you're all actually idiots." Cisco snorted at the very out of character outburst of emotion from the normally stoic Captain Cold. Then he reached out his hand and Len glanced down at the burned remains of Barry's suit before nodding and taking it. He was back in that vortex of wind and lightning Barry standing with her back to him. He tried to move but found himself unable. "Scarlet." She didn't move. "Barry!" She turned lightning flowing through her hair. "You need to come back Barry. The games not the same without my favorite Scarlet Speedster. None of us are. I need you to come back Barry. Knowing you're out there is what keeps me on that waverider with all the obnoxious heroes. Come back to me Scarlet. Please." Barry reached out and with some difficulty they managed to link hands. He pulled her to him and held her close. He barely noticed the air change once again, from the lightning and wind of the place she'd been trapped to the cool air of the lab. They only pulled apart when the cheers rang through the air. He smiled at Barry who appeared to be unharmed, wearing her signature scarlet suit. She grinned back up at him before Cisco caught their attention. "Barry you have no idea how happy I am that you're back but we're all about to die!" Barry tensed. "Zoom?" Cisco shook his head as he ran over to a nearby panel. "We don't know all we know is that someone's in the building and they broke in." Barry was still holding Len's hand as she watched the screens intently. Then the door to the lab burst open and a familiar voice shouted down to them. "Len you in there?" Len grinned. "I'm here. What the fuck are you doing Mick?" Cisco breathed a sigh of relief. "Hunter wants us both back in the waverider. We got a lead on Savage." He said walking nonchalantly into the room and leaning on the railing. He grinned at Barry. "Heya Doll, Gideon said you died. Good to see she was wrong." Barry shook her head at the pyro. Len turned to Barry pulling her close again. "Looks like I'm off to save time and space again Scarlet." Barry grinned and in front of her friends and her father pulled him into a long slow kiss. "I'm proud of you. Go be a hero." Len grinned from ear to ear and sauntered off, as he reached the door he turned. "Give this Zoom hell from me Scarlet. Be safe." With that he left. As the waverider began to take off into the night sky he spotted a streak of golden yellow lightning race across the city and smiled to himself.

#the legends of tomorrow #the flash #captain cold #barry allen #fem!barry allen #coldflash #coldflashwave #but only slightly #zoom #cisco ramon #vibes #henry allen #lisa snart #mentioned #iris west #mick rory #leonard snart

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queenlua · 8 years

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cool stuff i noticed while rereading the script of Inception

I wasn't planning to write this all tonight, but uh, I really love inception y'all.

NOLAN’S WRITERLY FLAWS

Here's a lengthy bit from the original script, which got cut from the movie:

MILES Everybody dreams, Cobb. Architects are supposed to make those dreams real.

COBB That's not what you used to say. You told me that in the real world I'd be building attic conversions and gas stations. You said that if I mastered the dream-share I'd have a whole new way of creating and showing people my creations. You told me it would free me.

Miles looks at Cobb, sad.

MILES And I'm sorry. I was wrong.

COBB No, you weren't. Your vision was a vision of pure creativity. It's where we took it that was wrong.

It's a rare glimpse into a side of Cobb we don't really see in the movie—young, drawn to the idea of pure creation, to all the beautiful high-minded concepts behind this dream-sharing business. You can almost feel Nolan himself, giddy, beneath this—as a creator that's got to be one of the coolest parts of this whole idea of dream-sharing; hell, when I first saw this move in The Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Ten, I went straight home and started writing some fanfiction, not about any of the characters, but about the intensity of feeling behind sharing dreams, what it would mean to create in that way—

—and it was totally right not to stick it in the film, because though Inception is a beautiful film with beautiful ideas, it's a heist movie at heart, and it has to focus on the pragmatic while giving the lofty beauty of it all a sly wink. The "youthful idealist architect Cobb" only comes across in subtext—a slight lightness in his step during his training sessions with Ariadne, maybe a bit when musing over what would draw the intense and beautiful Mal to him.

Here's another bit—from the scene when Cobb is having his final confrontation with Mal, and she's trying to convince him to stay in limbo with her. I italicized / surrounded with asterisks the bit that got cut:

MAL So certain of your world. Of what's real. Do you think he is- (points at Cobb) Or do you think he's as lost as I was?

COBB I know what's real.

***MAL What are the distinguishing characteristics of a dream? Mutable laws of physics? Tell that to the quantum physicists. Reappearance of the dead? What about heaven and hell? Persecution of the dreamer, the creator, the messiah? They crucified Christ, didn't they?***

COBB I know what's real.

MAL No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Dom? Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces? The way the projections persecute the dreamer?

Gosh, that line is just... what? We have this super-emotionally-charged moment, the make-it-or-break-it for Cobb to wrest his way from Mal's grasp, and we're throwing in random references to quantum physics and Christiainty??? It made the cutting board, as it should have.

But what I like about these lines is that they show us Nolan's rough edges—and it's Nolan the goddamn nerd, who loved Star Wars as a kid and talked about The Matrix a lot when talking about this movie and, based on his writing style, I honestly suspect is a little bit of a closet anime nerd. This is a guy who's really jazzed about ideas, who veers on the side of babbling too much about a beloved topic, or just reaaaaally wants that physics reference in there because of the cool parallels with the other ideas. I love it.

He also tends to add awkward touches of melodrama when left to his own devices. A line like "I performed [inception] on my wife and reaped the bitter rewards" gets transformed, with Leo's quiet humanity, into "I knew inception was possible because I did it to her first." Which gets a little into "what the actors brought to the movie", which I'll get into later.

I have a pet theory that what draws people to, say, a favorite author, or a favorite filmographer, is a love for both what they do well and their flaws. I was struck by this when reading a review of the Sea of Fertility tetraology, by my favorite author, and found myself basically agreeing with the review—the only difference was, the shit that drove the reviewer crazy were the things that gripped me in weird ways, that I recognized as flawed but still enjoyed warmly. Mishima's writing is melodramatic and Isao comes across as weirdly robotic and his pretenses at intellectualization come across as strained and confused—those were all things that drew me in deeper.

Which is not an argument against editors, and doing the Actual Right Thing; this is stuff that very rightly made the cutting board. But when it's a tough call for what the right way forward is, Nolan goes a little bit dorky, a little bit melodramatic, and those tiny moments are delectable.

MAKING EMOTIONAL SENSE

Something that struck me, when I rewatched Inception this weekend: Cobb's description of inception on Mal doesn't entirely make sense. It's not quite impossible according to the rules of the script, but it intuitively seems like performing inception in limbo is a very different thing than doing it from within a dream. He refers to having built everything in limbo; why would anything in limbo relate to specific parts of one mind? And it seems like it'd be easier to trace the genesis of the idea when you're right there in limbo with them when they do it, I'd think?

The point isn't whether it makes sense or not—I'm sure nerds on the argument could argue either side—but the point is that you don't even question the mechanics of it when it's described, because it made complete emotional sense. All through the movie, we've been getting hints that something terrible happened, some subtle thing Cobb's got stored away—and when we finally see it, with that choice imagery, oh, lifting the little locked-away top in Mal's home and spinning it—makes you say oh, makes you gasp, brings it together.

I went to a talk once by one of the writers of Lost, and he talked about this concept in the context of the episode "The Constant." Basically (as is tragically typical with Lost), a character's gotten his consciousness stuck in some sort of bizarre time loop, he keeps flashing back for longer and longer periods of time, and he's gonna die if he can't cut out this "simultaneously stuck in two time periods" thing. So a physics-y character says that Desmond needs to contact a "constant", something present in both time periods, so he can "stabilize" his mental state, and who does he call but his ex-girlfriend.

Does that make a goddamn lick of sense? No, not really. But the show'd already gotten us incredibly invested in this relationship between Desmond and Penny, they've been hinting for a while that Penny's been desperately looking for Desmond, and Desmond's love for her is really heart-melting, and they're using a science-y word ("a constant! like gravity's a constant, bro!"), and the feeling of something converging is the thing that really carries the moment. Lost pulled this kind of shit a lot, really, and it explains a lot of the divisiveness of the show. Invariably when I talk to people who liked Lost, they're usually watching for character, and freely confess the plot wasn't even trying to make sense after season two but that's so not the point. If you were focusing on the plot, you were doomed to be disappointed.

I want to spend more time thinking about this—how you construct something that makes "emotional sense." Do it wrong and there's just a gaping plot hole or bizarre deus ex machina that's going to irk everyone watching it. And, to be clear, I actually don't think these sorts of scenes work in spite of the vagueness/implausibility, but because of it—the important thing in Cobb's moment of inception is the beautiful resonance of that spinning top, the important thing in that Lost episode is the feeling that somehow, some way, love can be the thing that grounds you and saves you. Maybe that's the answer, really—you have to earn it in some other way. Lost earned it by pouring so much attention into Desmond's backstory, and his love for Penny, and the brief desperate glances we got into her search for him—to the point where we were yearning for a resolution. Inception did it in a more Nolanesque way, with its wonderful, precise control of exactly what is on the screen at all times—leading to a the confluence of motifs coming together all at once. Cobb repeats "an idea is like a virus", we see Mal's house again, we see the top, and the salt-swept shores of Limbo and the pair of them clinging to each other, all coming together at once.

WHAT LEO BROUGHT TO COBB

I get the sense, reading the script, that Cobb was meant to be a more, uh, "edgy"/dark/moody-teenage-protagonist-esque character than he actually became. There's just touches, here and there, in the script. There's a scene where, in the movie, Arthur sympathetically says, "I know how much you want to go home." In the movie, Arthur's posture is closed-off, and he's staring out a window, and says nothing until Arthur talks again. In the script though, Cobb cuts him off with a sharp "No, you don't." Touchy, tetchy.

Or how about this bit:

Cobb GRABS SAITO AND PUTS HIS HEAD TO THE FLOOR, gun pressed into his cheek. Saito looks into Cobb's eyes--sees he will pull the trigger. Saito BLINKS, looks away in shame. When he NOTICES SOMETHING. And starts LAUGHING.

Oh man, Cobb is so tough, making the tough Japanese businessman look away in shame—

—except, in the movie, at this point Cobb's getting totally desperate, and instead of playing it deadly-cool, he's waving a gun and fucking screaming at Saito, "TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW! TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW NOW!", and Saito performs no "look of shame."

The other instances are more slight and tedious to cite, but—there's moments in the script where Cobb was supposed to hold a broody stare, and instead got flustered and cut into the next topic right off, moments when he's giving cocky grins that turn more poker-face-y in the movie.

It gives you an appreciation for really good actor can do, what they're bringing to the movie—the subtle changes of expression, turns of phrase, ways they hold themselves can change so much of the mood and feel of a character. I don't think of Cobb as like, the Greatest Character Ever, but as an anchor for the movie, he's pretty solid and rather unique—not quite cold-and-aloof-tragic-past type, not quite the hard-edged-bristly-loner type—something more mature, more weathered, more adult. He comes across as a touch more cerebral, a touch more intense, and those touches resonate really well with what's a reasonably cerebral and a very intense movie.

EXPOSITION IS HARD

Inception is an exposition-heavy movie. I remember it all flowing seamlessly when I first watched it, but on re-watches it does feel like a bit much, and sometimes awkward (Arthur explaining the concept of limbo while in a shouting match with Cobb, urgh).

But it's interesting how much more there is that didn't even make it into the movie—tons more slips of awkward exposition that got cut. For instance, in the script verion of Cobb's visit to France, when he's trying to get the professor to get him an architect, there's a whole conversation that lays out the “what happened between Cobb and Mal” alarmingly baladly:

COBB I know. I thought you could talk to Marie about bringing them on vacation. Somewhere I could meet--

MILES Why would she listen to me?

COBB You were married for twenty years.

MILES She blames me as much as you.

COBB Doesn't she understand that my kids need me?

MILES Yes, she does. We all do. Go back and face the music, Dom. Explain what Mal did.

COBB Be realistic, Stephen. They'd never understand− they'd lock me up and throwaway the key. Or worse.

MILES You think what you're doing now is helping your case?

COBB Lawyers don't pay for themselves.

I'm glad that didn't make the movie—we get the sense that something happened, but we don't know Mal did something, and while it's made obvious Cobb can't go back to America due to a crime, he doesn't drop a line like "lock me up and throw away the key" ick, etc.

Perhaps Nolan deliberately wrote in more exposition than necessary, with the idea he could cut it based on what sort of context the actors could imply with their actions? The trickiest thing with writing exposition, I think, is that whole "the writer already knows everything" bit—how do you determine what people need to know, and when, and how, when you've already got the whole picture and the pieces seem so obvious to you? I've received praise on some of my original fantasy writing for executing well on this sort of thing—but (1) I think it's goddamn impossible to do much fantasy/scifi writing at all without gaining chops in this area; it's the central challenge of the genres, and (2) I think it's easier in a prose setting—you can toss in throwaway words and references more easily, adding texture and feel without actually following up on it, whereas a movie is crunched for time and every word/reference/etc usually has to count, materially advancing the plot and the reader's understanding.

#inception

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