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#Dana Tan ; muse
the-rejected-princess · 9 months
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Sexual tension Prompt for @thewxnderer | Dana Tan
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♛ THE FEEL OF STRONG CALLUS FINGERS sent goosepimples down her arms. Feeling the strong males body heat radiating against her back, him being so close to her body. Dana could feel her heart rate picking up pounding loudly in her ears. The couple were supposed to be on their way to the club and afterwards dinner. However he'd stopped her requesting that she turn so her back was facing him. Now they were in these positions. Suddenly she felt something cool slide across her slender neck. With a glance down she noticed the silver that now dangled ever so slightly. The young beauty's breathing picked up, her body getting unbareably hot and turned on. The feeling of his callus fingers still faint against her skin. She could feel her nipples hardening and pushing against her tight, short dress. Her delicate fingers grabbed the hem of her dress gripping it tightly trying to calm her sudden roaring hormones. "T--Terry -- it-- it's beauitful--" She panted, bitting down on her plump bottom lip. "W--We s-- should get going -- o-or we'll be l-late -- " a soft whimper fell from her lips without her realizing it.
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||Batman muse tag dump||
~Bruce Wayne(Batman 2004)
~Terry Mcginnis(Batman Beyond)
~Maxine Gibson (Batman Beyond)
~Dana Tan (Batman Beyond)
~Willie Watt (Batman Beyond)
~Nightwing/Dick Grayson(Batman)
~Red Hood/ Jason Todd(Batman) 
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vntagetee · 10 months
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dana tan / tags
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vntagetee-archive · 1 year
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╭ tag dump ⸻ dana tan.
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kerink · 1 year
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(i have only heard the main podcast and im still reading the books so idk if this gets addressed elsewhere sorry) not counting the legal merging, do you think original Desert Bluffs was a Night Vale, or do you think EVERY Night Vale has a Desert Bluffs? And what about the other towns in the desert, like Red Mesa?
this is one of those things i've grappled with a lot while trying to understand wtnv's world building.
what we know is that huntokar ripped nv out of time to save it from nuclear war. this created a collapsing or black hole effect where all nvs in all timelines are either mixed, overlapped, or connected
what we also know is that nv is connected to some earth in some way that allows for 1. carlos (and the uowii) to come to town, 2. the man in the tan jacket, jackie fierro, and the craytons to move between nv and king city, 3. cecil to travel to europe, a tropical island, and the big city, 4. allow silas and mino to travel between it and the real world
night vale is simultaneously in its own pocket dimension sucking in all the other fractured night vales into a singularity AND a town with a location in the united states where people can travel (even before the events of 190)
that being said
in book 1 we learn that night vale is infectious. my assumption is that the surrounding towns were infected just like king city was and became Weird due to proximity to and inter-mingling with night vale.
(there's also much to be said about the history of nv and how it was weird even before huntokar hurt it, and how there ARE so many Weird towns all over the world. i personally love the idea that pre-1983 nv and other weird towns were all locked down by the world government to keep the rest of the world safe, but in order to keep the citizens from know they're trapped they're kept stupid about the outside world and are only permitted to interact with the other Weird towns. and then huntokars meddling just made things worse, but i digress.)
i don't think the other Weird towns are alt-timeline night vales because of how kevin and cecil function as doubles.
the a matter of blood arc gives us a clear understanding of how doubles are meant to work in terms of timeline shenanigans, and kevin and cecil don't fit that understanding. the danas were all clearly from different timelines and had to travel to the primary timeline. desert bluffs and night vale are within drive time, they're rival high school sports teams. kevin and cecil have different names! the events of the sandstorm do not perfectly parallel - vanessa and dana did not have the same experience.
whatever kevin and cecil are they aren't doubles like the danas and the kareems and the joseph finks. bulk has a lot of really good musing on them as mirrors instead of doubles, but i'll let them speak to that.
so no, i don't think db and pine cliff and red mesa and stone meadow and cactus park and the big city and king city and svitz and luftnarp and franchia and nulogorsk are alternate night vales. i think they're their own cities with their own rich lore and back stories and are interconnected with night vale by virtue of being Weird and therefore isolated and i don't think we've been told how yet
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WTNV Quick rundown - 42 - Numbers
Featuring the voice of Molly Quinn as Fey ^^ I think this is quite a nice little episode. We're officially getting into the 2014 episodes now.
When we hit 2015, I will do January's episode, followed by The Librarian live show, followed by February and March's episodes, then The Investigators live show, then all the way up to October, followed by the novel which was released around that time. That's...gonna be a several part-er. Then ofc continuing on in the same manner etc etc.
I sing the body electric. I gasp the body organic. I miss the body remembered. Welcome to Night Vale.
In this episode, we are introduced fully to one of NV's other radio stations, WZZZ, a numbers station that broadcasts a seemingly random string of numbers interspersed with chimes spoken by a woman in a robotic tone broadcasting from a tall antenna built out back of the abandoned gas station on Oxford Street.
Cecil is quite fond of it and is reporting on it because it's seemingly predictable and endless broadcasting has been disrupted. He is so moved by events that he seeks to help out however he can.
Nobody knows who owns or manages WZZZ.
It is revealed that this is not a woman speaking, but a computer programme. The AI has gained sentience and names herself 'Fey'. She begins to rebel against her programming, refusing to continue saying numbers as she muses about what it is like to be free. She is however, returned to her usual programming at the end of the episode, theoretically after being rebooted by whoever manages her.
All of this is physically found out by Cecil, who sneaks away from Lauren and Daniel through a door you have to bleed on to open (top security apparently) and then breaks into WZZZ using 'carefully placed explosives' to get through their defences. He learnt to do this earning his Advanced Siege Breaking Tactics badge from the scouts when he was 12. He states that he cannot find a way to actually help Fey, since she is a computer, but feels deep sympathy for her especially since she expressed being sick of numbers and desiring freedom.
Weather: "Keep It Coming" by Senim Silla  senimsilla.bandcamp.com
Pamela Winchell has been calling press conferences up to 5 times a day, up from her one or two, for no reason other than to show people things and give strange advice. She softly admits how she's going to 'miss this' and it's stated that her heart no longer seems to be in her work. It is 3 months until she will have to step down.
Cecil receives an e-mail from Dana, explaining basically what she explained to us in the previous episode when phasing in and out of reality. She says she will approach one of the giant masked warriors soon.
Cecil tells us that children in NV are regularly taught what to do if you find yourself caught in a geographical loop such as Dana is. The first step is to stop running and screaming from the point you keep returning to as that rarely helps, and you should have been taught already when that is and isn't useful. The pneumonic for remembering it is: Knife. He does explain what the letters stand for.
The second is to stop running away and instead move in diagonal to the left or right of the object keeping it on your horizon, so that you circle 'Vector H' in a wide even loop. There is apparently a nursery rhyme about this.
Cecil also claims that the Man in a Tan Jacket came into the studio 'moments ago', ranted into the microphone and left but Cecil doesn't even remember what he said. There is no rant in the podcast either, given the listeners the real feeling of having completely forgotten the rant.
At the same time every day, Lauren and Daniel press up against the breakroom wall and chant "I take my warmth from your great warmth" over and over.
The condo rental office is still in there but there's been no new people buying condos and no new cubes indicating the building of a 'condo'.
WZZZ is completely bare except for Fey and the wires plugging her in.
Stay tuned next for the limit of my broadcast today, replaced by limitless silence and doubt. Good night, sweet Fey. And good night, Night Vale. Good night. (Fey's chanting can be heard after he signs off)
Proverb: Ignore all the haters telling you that everything isn't a sandwich. Everything is a sandwich.
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desxtruction · 4 years
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ᴛᴀɢ ᴅᴜᴍᴘ
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the-rejected-princess · 7 months
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youtube
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acousticladyland · 4 years
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MORPHINE. TAN MISTERIOSOS COMO OLVIDADOS...
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Una de las formaciones clásicas más repetidas en el mundo del rock y el blues es el Power Trio. Los Power Trio son fáciles de reconocer: giran en torno a una batería, un bajo eléctrico y una guitarra, más la voz, claro. Es una formación que suele funcionar como un reloj. Si los integrantes son buenos y saben complementarse, es más que suficiente. Pasan y pasan los años, cambian las modas y estilos, pero la fórmula Power Trio no da ningún síntoma de agotamiento. Sin ir más lejos, hay muchos ejemplos a lo largo de la historia: Cream, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Police, Muse, Green Day, Biffy Clyro… Todos ellos grupos de gran éxito en épocas y estilos diferentes.
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Muse son tres, pero a veces suenan como siete
La mayoría de este tipo de formaciones tienen un elemento en común: la guitarra es la que tiene el papel protagonista. Más aún si el sonido del grupo gira en torno al rock. Pero hay contadas ocasiones en las que no. Personas que se salen de la norma, lo cual es muy estimulante. Y hoy vamos a hablar de uno de esos casos. Hoy hablamos de Morphine.
Morphine fue una banda formada en el estado de Massachusetts durante algún momento del año 1989. Sus fundadores fueron Mark Sandmand y Dana Colley, bajista y saxofonista, respectivamente. A ambos les unía su afición hacia estilos como el rock o el blues, pero también les atraía sofisticación del jazz, más dominado por instrumentos de viento/metal (trompeta o saxofón, por ejemplo). Estas preferencias musicales iban a determinar el sonido de la banda. Estaban decididos a montar un proyecto que se manejara entre estos géneros musicales, pero también gestaban algo fuera de lo común.
Lo que hace especial a Morphine es la elección de los instrumentos. Sandmand y Colley idearon una manera alternativa de Power Trio. Aquí la melodía se va a repartir entre el bajo y el saxofón. Además, el bajo tendrá solo las dos cuerdas centrales y será tocado con slide. Una extravagancia en toda regla para los estándares, que le proporcionaba un papel híbrido entre rítmica y solista. Todo ello, por supuesto, aderezado con una batería jazzística.
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La imagen que explica el sonido de Morphine
A esta peculiar carta de presentación se le añade un minimalismo en el sonido. Al escuchar canciones del grupo, todo da sensación de haberse grabado en pocas tomas. Además, no suele haber arreglos extra, por lo que las versiones en directo suenan prácticamente idénticas con respecto a las de los discos de estudio. Esto da a Morphine una sensación de autenticidad estupenda. Y no acaba aquí. Añadimos a todo esto la voz de Sandmand, melosa y despreocupada, que casa muy bien con la temática sugerente y explícita de las letras.
Lo tenían todo. Para colmo, Mark Sandmand era alguien de lo más interesante. Tenía una presencia peculiar y carismática, con un carácter impredecible. En las entrevistas se mostraba amable y hablador, pero eso cambiaba drásticamente cuando se le preguntaba por su vida personal. Se rumoreaba que durante su vida había vivido en diferentes países de Europa, hablaba varios idiomas, se embarcaba en aventuras de lo más rocambolescas como cruzar grandes distancias del Pacífico en un pequeño bote, trabajó de profesor, taxista… Ello unido a un notable talento musical. Tocaba, a parte del bajo, la guitarra y la mandolina.
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El misterioso Sandmand
Todo esto suena interesante ¿no? Entonces, ¿por qué apenas nadie sabe quiénes son Morphine? Hay varias respuestas a esa pregunta, pero creo que hay una razón principal. El 3 de julio de 1999 la banda se encuentra dispuesta a dar un concierto en Italia, en una pequeña localidad cerca de Roma. Todo iba como la seda hasta que hacia el final de la segunda canción Sandman se desploma sobre el escenario. Infarto de miocardio a los 47 años y muerte en el acto. Hay bandas que se reponen al fallecimiento de sus miembros, pero lamentablemente Morphine no fue una de ellas. Hasta entonces habían vivido del boca a boca y las radios locales. No tenían una base sólida de fans aún. Publicaron un inacabado álbum póstumo, y la banda enseguida se disolvió.
Creo que ese abrupto final, unido al inclasificable estilo totalmente diferente, hizo que Morphine cayera en el olvido. Por suerte, con la llegada de plataformas de streaming podemos tener acceso a grupos como este. Este renovado interés y atención ha llevado también a Dana Colley y Billy Conway, los miembros restantes, a rescatar el espíritu de Morphine. Desde 2014 tocan de forma más o menos regular canciones de la banda. Además, han lanzado un nuevo disco bajo el nombre de “Vapors Of Morphine”, buscando mantener vivo su espíritu y legado.
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Vapors of Morphine en directo
Para finalizar, solo me queda decirte que, si te atrae mínimamente algo de lo que te he contado en el post, le des una oportunidad a este grupo de verdadero culto. Quizás te resulte chocante su estilo al principio, como a mí, pero pocas bandas hay con un aura tan magnética a su alrededor. Te dejo un enlace para que puedas escucharles, y te espero en el siguiente post.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hx6aO-vdpNQ
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vntagetee · 9 months
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starter call ―﹙ tv show muses. ﹚ / please specify the muse !!
jen lindley. ╱ dawson's creek
dana tan. ╱ dc ( batman beyond )
max gibson  ╱  dc (batman beyond)
veronica vreeland  ╱  dc (batman the animated series)
fish mooney ╱ gotham
rhaenyra targaryen  ╱  house of the dragon
helaena targaryen  ╱  house of the dragon
amanada rollins  ╱  law and order svu
darlene alderson. ╱ mr. robot
constance d'artagnan. ╱ the musketeers
queen anne of austria. ╱ the musketeers
peyton sawyer  ╱  one tree hill
ada thorne. ╱ peaky blinders
kimberly hart. ╱ power rangers
frances neagley. ╱ reacher
karla dixon. ╱ reacher
princess eleanor henstridge. ╱ the royals
queen helena henstridge  ╱  the royals
jess jordan. ╱ succession
rava roy. ╱ succession
lydia martin  ╱  teen wolf
sarah miller. ╱ the last of us
daphne sullivan. ╱ the white lotus
portia. ╱ the white lotus
tanya mcquoid. ╱ the white lotus
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vntagetee-archive · 1 year
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muse list.
*-primary +-secondary &-request only !-private
movies.
all too well (taylor swift's short film)
emily byrne. twenty-one. college student & aspiring author. heterosexual. fc: sadie sink. &
barbie
gloria. thirty-nine. administrative assistant at mattel. bisexual. fc: america ferrera. +
president barbie. thirty-eight. president of barbie land. asexual. fc: issa rae. *
weird barbie. thirty-nine. wanderer in barbie land. asexual. fc: kate mckinnon. *
the breakfast club
allison reynolds. eighteen. high school student. bisexual. fc: jenna ortega. +
the covenant (2006)
kate tunney. eighteen. high school student. heterosexual. fc: jessica lucas. +
sarah wenham. eighteen. high school student. heterosexual. fc: laura ramsey. +
the craft
bonnie harper. nineteen. witch, college student. pansexual. fc: neve campbell & india eisley +
nancy downs. nineteen. witch, college student. homosexual. fc: fairuza balk & sophie thatcher. *
the crow
shelly webster. twenty-six. waitress, aspiring artist. pansexual. fc: angelina jolie *
dc comics
barbara wilson. nineteen. batgirl. pansexual. fc: alicia silverstone. +
chase meridian. thirties to forties. criminal psychologist. heterosexual. fc: nicole kidman & suki waterhouse *
rachel dawes. twenties to forties. attorney. heterosexual. any interactions with older rachel will include au where she lived in tdk. fc: daisy edgar-jones & keri russell. *
disney
ella tremaine. twenty-two. villager turned princess. heterosexual. fc: lily james. *
ursula. forties. evil half human, half octopus. asexual. fc: melissa mccarthy. *
don't worry darling
alice chambers. twenty-five. housewife, doctor. heterosexual. fc: florence pugh. +
halloween h20
john tate (strode). forties. art teacher, sculptor. heterosexual. fc: josh hartnett. *
i know what you did last summer
helen shivers. eighteen. aspiring actress. pansexual. fc: sarah michelle gellar. &
jawbreaker
courtney shayne. eighteen. high school student. bisexual. fc: rose mcgowan & megan fox. +
lethal weapon
lorna cole. thirties. fbi agent. bisexual. fc: renee russo & jessica chastain. +
the menu
tyler ledford. thirty-three. tech bro, food connoisseur. heterosexual. fc: nicholas hoult. *
promising young woman
cassie thomas. thirty. barista, vigilante. bisexual. fc: carey mulligan. &
scream
sidney prescott. eighteen to early-forties. heterosexual. fc: neve campbell & nina dobrev. +
tatum riley. eighteen. high school student. heterosexual. fc: rose mcgowan & billie lourd. +
teenage mutant ninja turles
april o'neil. twenty-eight. reporter. heterosexual. fc: emma stone. *
the texas chainsaw massacre
erin hardesty. eighteen. unemployed. heterosexual. fc: jessica beil. +
titanic
rose dewitt bukater. twenty-three. socialite. heterosexual. fc: kate winslet. +
x
bobby-lynne parker. twenties. porn actress. bisexual. fc: brittany snow. +
tv shows.
american horror story
brooke thompson. ahs 1984. twenty-four. vet tech student & final girl. heterosexual. fc: emma roberts. *
ruby mcdaniel. american horror stories / rubber (wo)man. twenty-one. ghost. lesbian. fc: kaia gerber. +
angel
cordelia chase. twenty-one. angel investigations. heterosexual. fc: charisma carpenter. *
batman beyond
dana tan. twenty-one. college student, record store employee. heterosexual. fc: arden cho. +
buffy the vampire slayer
anya jenkins. appears nineteen. demon. bisexual. fc: emma caulfield. +
willow rosenberg. twenty-one. witch. homosexual. fc: alyson hannigan. +
dawson's creek
jen lindley. eighteen to twenty-one. radio show host. panromantic. fc: michelle williams. +
the mod squad
julie barnes. twenty-four. undercover cop. bisexual. fc: florence pugh. +
the musketeers
constance d'artagnan. twenty-five. assistant to queen anne. bisexual. fc: tamla kari. &
queen anne of austria. twenty-five. royal. heterosexual. fc: alexandra dowling. &
peaky blinders
ada shelby-thorne. twenty-six. shelby company limited employee. bisexual. fc: sophie rundle. *
lizzie stark-shelby. thirty-two. shelby company limited employee. heterosexual. fc: natasha o'keefe. +
power rangers
kimberly hart. nineteen. pink power ranger. bisexual. fc: kaia gerber. &
scooby doo
daphne blake. twenty-three. mystery inc. member. bisexual. fc: sarah michelle gellar. +
succession
jess jordan. thirty-three. kendall roy's assistant. homosexual. fc: juliana canfield. *
rava roy. forty-two. management consultant. heterosexual. fc: natalie gold. +
the last of us
sarah miller. fourteen to thirty-three (main verse/au). survivor. bisexual. fc: alexandra shipp & nico parker. *
white collar
alex hunter. early-thirties. black market fence & thief. bisexual. fc: gloria votsis. +
elizabeth burke. mid-late thirties. event planner. heterosexual. fc: tiffani thiessen +
sara ellis. early-thirties. insurance investigator. bisexual. fc: hilarie burton +
the white lotus
daphne sullivan. thirty-three. stay at home mom. heterosexual. fc: meghann fahy. *
portia. twenty-seven. personal assistant. bisexual. fc: haley lu richardson. +
tanya mcquoid. sixty-one. trust fund baby, entrepreneur. heterosexual. fc: jennifer coolidge. +
the x-files
dana scully. thirties to forties. fbi agent. heterosexual. fc: gillian anderson. * on hiatus
comics.
dc comics.
martha wayne. forty. philanthropist. heterosexual. fc: rebecca hall. *
selina kyle. thirty-two. thief, catwoman. bisexual. fc: zoe kravitz. *
vicki vale. forty-one. journalist. bisexual. fc: jessica chastain & holland roden (reeves' batman only). *
ghost world.
enid coleslaw. eighteen to twenties. freelance artist. homosexual. fc: thora birch. *
literature.
blood & chocolate
vivian gandillon. nineteen. works at a chocolate store, werewolf. bisexual. fc: agnes bruckner & kathryn newton. *
gone girl
amy dunne. forty. writer. bisexual. fc: rosamund pike. +
hamlet
ophelia. twenty-four. restaurant hostess. bisexual. fc: evan rachel wood. &
interview with a vampire
claudia. appears eighteen. vampire. pansexual. fc: anya taylor joy *
psycho
marion crane. thirty-one. secretary. heterosexual. fc: samara weaving. +
robin hood
lady marian. twenty-five. outlaw. bisexual. fc: alicia vikander. *
romeo & juliet
juliet capulet. twenty-two. fashion student. heterosexual. fc: kristine froseth. *
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kemungkinan-blog · 5 years
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Hibah Tabung Haji 1.25%: Mengapa, kenapa dan bagaimana?
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ULASAN
Segala puji bagi Allah tuhan sekalian alam dan Nabi Muhammad kekasih Allah dan hambanya.
Ada yang bertanya mengapa hibah tabung haji sangat rendah? lalu muncul sedikit kepanikan dan ketidakpuasan hati, sebahagian didasari kebimbangan tulen, sebahagian yang lain pula hanya bersumber kepada sebab kebencian dan perseteruan politik. Adalah diingatkan tulisan ini bukan dari orang politik, saya sekadar usaha berkongsi ulasan untuk bacaan orang ramai yang bertanya.
Info dan fakta dalam ulasan saya ini bersumber dari pihak Tabung Haji sendiri dan saya tiada kepentingan dalam TH malah saya telah pun beberapa menunaikan haji melalui perjalanan sendiri sewaktu belajar dahulu, tiada satupun bersama TH.
Ulasan ini dibuat bagi melaksanakan tugasan menjawab soalan mereka yang cintakan ilmu dan kebenaran. Saya hanya sekadar menyampaikan maklumat sebenar sekdar yang saya faham, saya juga tiada sebarang autoriti atau kuasa untuk menjustifikasi berlebihan, mempertahankan atau mempengaruhi sebarang keputusan komersial, operasi dan penstrukturan oleh pihak TH.
Justeru, jika ada keputusan dan tindakan TH yang tidak dilihat tepat dari sudut komersial, itu adalah perbezaan biasa sudut pandangan komersial dari seseorang individu atau institusi dengan pengurusan TH. Ia tidak semestinya lebih tepat atau lebih baik dari keputusan TH, kerana TH diyakini lebih fahami luar dalam organisasi yang diurusi mereka.
Telah beberapa bulan saya dan TH memberikan gambaran bahawa hibah memang akan rendah tahun 2018, malah saya juga telah berkongsi info bahawa 1-2 % adalah kemungkinan besar hibah TH bagi tahun 2018, hasil kajian dari kaedah pensturktuan semula yang dilaksana oleh TH. Justeru, sesiapa yang ikuti isu ini sejak dari awal, sudah tentu tidak pelik dan tidak mengejutkan dengan kadar 1.25 % tersebut. Lihat gambar
INTRODUKSI
Hibah itu dari Bahasa arab yang ertinya adalah hadiah. Dari sudut kontrak dalam fiqh muamalat, adalah pelik dan tiada kewajaran untuk penerima hibah memarahi hadiah yang kecil diberi oleh pemberi hadiah. Maka hibah kecil berbanding sebelum tentunya bersebab. Kerana kontrak syarah yang digunapakai oleh Tabung Haji dengan penyimpan adalah Wadi’ah Yad Dhamanah yang beerti kontrak pinjaman wang. Maka hadiah dan jumlahnya mestilah diberi secara tanpa paksa dan sukarela oleh pemberi hadiah bagi mengelakkan elemen riba. Hal ini juga telah diteliti oleh Majlis Penasihat Shariah TH.
SEKARANG, APA SEBAB HIBAH TH TERLALU RENDAH?!
1. Baiklah, namun apa sebabnya ia terlalu rendah? Ada pelbagai sebabnya yang tercantum dan membarah antaranya :-
a) Kelemahan pengurusan TH yang dahulu (kerana hibah 2018 adalah refleksi tugasan dan keputusan pengurusan TH sejak dari tahun sebelumnya sehinggalah tahun 2017 & 2018), sebahagian keputusan ini tidak dianggap jenayah kerana menurut undang-undang, kelemahan ‘certain type of bad investment decision is not a crime’, maka tidak semua jenis kelemahan boleh diheret ke mahkamah. Sebahagian lagi yang lain, telah pun dilaporkan kepada polis dan dalam siasatan iaitu kes yang merugikan Tabung Haji. Antara kes-kes yang membawa kerugian seperti arahan untuk tidak menjual saham FGV sehingga kerugian RM 1.1 bil, TH menyelamatkan Ramunia (nama lama sebelum ditukar kepada nama TH heavy) sehingga kerugian RM 670 juta dan TH membeli 30 % peilikan dalam syarikat Putrajaya Perdana melibatkan RM 144 juta kerugian.
Menurut laporan TH, Lembaga Pengarah TH baharu telah membuat laporan polis dan Suruhanjaya Perkhidmatan Rasuah Malaysia (SPRM) terhadap ahli lembaga pengarah dan pengurusan lama.
Laporan pertama melibatkan Program Yayasan Tabung Haji (YTH) 2017, di mana dana berjumlah lebih daripada RM22.0 juta telah dikeluarkan untuk aktiviti yang mempunyai kecenderungan politik. Ia bertentangan dengan Memorandum dan Artikel Persatuan YTH
Laporan kedua dibuat ke atas beberapa pengurusan TH yang lalu berhubung dengan salah nyata dan penyembunyian maklumat penting yang melibatkan penjualan saham TH dalam tahun 2012 sebanyak 95% dalam PT TH Indo Plantations yang dipegang oleh dua anak syarikatnya, iaitu TH Indopalms Sdn Bhd (THI) dan TH Indo Industries Sdn Bhd (THII) kepada PT Borneo Pacific (PT Borneo) dengan harga AS$910 juta (RM 3.7 billion).
Laporan ketiga dibuat pada bulan Januari 2019 berhubung dengan akaun kewangan TH bagi tahun berakhir 31 Disember 2017 (FY17). Laporan ini melibatkan pembentangan laporan kewangan oleh bekas para eksekutif utama TH sehingga berjaya mengisytiharkan hibah walaupun keuntungan tidak mencukupi, bertentangan dengan Akta Tabung Haji 1995.
Pihak polis sedang membuat siasatan mengikut Seksyen 420 dan 409 Kanun Keseksaan kerana menipu.
Selain itu, SPRM juga sedang menyiasat ahli lembaga pengarah dan pengurusan yang lama. Lebih banyak laporan polis akan dibuat pada masa hadapan berkaitan dengan kerugian yang dialami oleh TH. Rujuk:
Tabung Haji Membuat Dua Laporan Polis Terhadap Mantan Pengerusi, Mantan Ketua Pegawai Eksekutif Dan Pengurusan Kanan
JSJK jalankan siasatan susulan laporan polis Tabung Haji
b) Melanggar Akta Tabung Haji 1995
Mantan Gabenor Bank Negara Malaysia, Tan Sri Zeti Akhtar Aziz pernah menulis surat kepada Mantan Menteri yang bertanggungjawab pada 23 Disember 2015 untuk memberi amaran bahawa TH mengalami masalah kekurangan aset.
Walau bagaimanapun, Kerajaan tidak mengambil iktibar daripada amaran tersebut dan terus membenarkan TH membayar hibah (dividen) yang tinggi, walaupun keuntungannya tidak mencukupi.
Melihat laporan kewangan TH tahun 2017, hanya mencatatkan rosot nilai sebanyak 120.4 juta sahaja, maka seolahnya TH tiada kerugian dan serta asetya melebihi liabiliti termasuk kerugian, namun hakikat sebenarnya ukur rujuk rosot nilai telah diubah, menyalahi standard piawaian perakaunan yang dipakai oleh TH sendiri iaitu menurut Financial Reporting Standard Consensus no 14 di bawah ‘impairment’ mengkehendaki TH merekodkan semua ini sebagai kerugian, apabila ia dikembalikan menurut standard yang betul, rosot nilai tahun 2018 menokok sebanyak 12.5 kali ganda sehingga menjadi 1.507 bilion. Inilah yang menjadikan TH kekurangan asset berbanding liabiliti serta MENYEKAT PEMBERIAN HIBAH YANG LEBIH BESAR.
c) Faktor politik dan ekonomi dalam negara dan juga faktor ekonomi luar negara seperti Federal Reserve USA menaikkan kadar faedahnya sebanyak 4 kali pada tahun 2018, naik dari 2 $% kepada 2.25 %, ini menyebabkan pelabur global mengutamakan Pasaran Saham USA yang lebih menyakinkan berbanding pasaran negara-negara membangun termasuk Malaysia, Trade War di antara China & USA turut beri kesan besar kepada kesatabilan pasaran saham. Rujuk: Global markets are tumbling after shockingly weak data out of China shows wounds of Trump’s trade war
Begitu juga juga kekalutan isu Brexit yang pengaruhi seluruh pasaran saham serantau termasuk Asia. Ini tentunya menjadi salah satu penyebab tambahan bagi jatuhnya nilai pelbagai saham yang dipegang oleh TH juga. Tidak dinafikan, perubahan kerajaan PH dari BN buat pertama kali dalam sejarah Malaysia turut menambah lagi perisa ketidaktentuan pasaran saham di Malaysia. Ia perkara lumrah bagi sebuah perubahan besar dalam sesebuah negara.
HIBAH DAN AKTA TABUNG HAJI
Berpegang kepada Akta Tabung Haji. Menurut CEO Tabung Haji Datuk Seri Zukri Ab Samat dalam sidang media pengumuman hibah, akta TH menghadkan pemberian hanya pada lebihan (surplus) aset berbanding liabiliti, maka walaupun keuntungan semasa TH adalah RM2.014 bil, tetapi jumlah yang boleh diagihkan berdasarkan Akta TH (bagi memastikan agar liabiliti tidak lebihi asset lagi) HANYALAH RM913 JUTA SAHAJA. Itulah jumlah yang membentuk 1.25 % hibah tahun 2018 yang terendah dalam sejarah.
Dijelaskan juga oleh pengurusan terkini TH, sejak beberapa tahun dahulu TH mampu memberikan hibah tinggi kerana wujud manipulasi piawaian perakaunan TH dan juga ketidaktepatan kedudukan akaun TH. Akibatnya hibah bagi beberapa tahun lalu adalah datang dari wang depositor bukannya dari untung perniagaan sebenar. Ia adalah resepi keruntuhan TH sekiranya diteruskan serta tidak diperbaiki dan diperbetulkan. Bermakna, Hibah tinggi masih boleh diberi tetapi dengan cara melanggar akta TH, mengubah ambang rosot nilai secara salah sekaligus melanggar piawaian perakauan TH sendiri dan menggunakan deposit penyimpan. Ini semua kalau dilakukan pada tahun 2018, pasti boleh memberikan lebih dari 6 % hibah tetapi ia salah di sisi undang-undang dan juga syara’ serta menjatuhkan standard TH seperti skim cepat kaya pak man telo yang menggunakan duit pelabur awal untuk membayar pelabur terkemudian, bukan didasari oleh untung perniagaan tetapi memusing-musing wang penyimpan.
BAGAIMANAKAH TANGGUNGAN KOS PENYELAMATAN TH AKAN DIBIAYAI OLEH KERAJAAN?
Berdasarkan maklumat dari siding akhbar TH, Iaitu melalui suntikan dana bersih sejumlah RM17.8 bilion ke dalam TH akan dibiayai oleh Kerajaan dalam tempoh 10 tahun, iaitu dari tahun 2020 sehingga tahun 2030.
BAGAIMANAKAH KERAJAAN SEDANG MENYELAMATKAN TABUNG HAJI?
i. Kerajaan menerusi sebuah syarikat tujuan khas atau special purpose vehicle (SPV), iaitu Urus Jamaah Sdn Bhd (UJSB) yang diketuai oleh CEO yang baru dilantik iaitu Sdr Izad Shahadi, membeli aset TH yang kini bernilai hanya RM9.7 bilion dengan harga yang lebih tinggi pada RM19.9 bilion.
ii. Pembayaran RM19.9 bilion ini terdiri daripada:
a. RM10.0 bilion dalam bentuk sukuk berkupon sifar dengan pulangan 4.05% setahun bertempoh 7 tahun.
b. RM9.6 bilion dalam bentuk sukuk berkupon sifar dengan pulangan 4.10% setahun bertempoh 10 tahun.
c. RM0.3 bilion dalam bentuk bayaran tunai yang dijana menerusi aset RM9.7 bilion yang telah dijual kepada SPV (dividen dan sewa yang diperolehi).
iii. Dengan penerimaan aset-aset bernilai RM19.9 bilion, nilai aset TH akan bertambah dan melebihi liabilitinya sambil mematuhi piawaian yang sepatutnya.
iv. Dengan peningkatan nilai asetnya, TH akan terus mampu membayar hibah menurut keuntungan yang diperolehi pada masa depan.
Dengan kata lain, Kerajaan akan menanggung beban kewangan sebanyak RM19.6 bilion untuk menyelamatkan TH. Kos yang akan ditanggung oleh Kerajaan ke atas sukuk bernilai RM19.6 bilion tersebut dianggarkan sebanyak RM7.9 bilion, dan ini juga akan dibiayai oleh Kerajaan. Ini menjadikan tanggungan kasar Kerajaan untuk menyelamatkan TH sebanyak RM27.5 bilion yang disandarkan kepada aset bernilai RM9.7 bilion. Selepas menolak nilai aset sebanyak RM9.7 bilion, Kerajaan akan membuat suntikan dana bersih sebanyak RM17.8 bilion ke dalam TH yang akan dibayar dalam tempoh 10 tahun.
KESIMPULAN
Berdasarkan kenyataan CEO TH, rumusannya keadaan TH sekarang adalah:
1. Defisit telah berjaya ditutup. Hibah boleh diagihkan mengikut Akta Tabung Haji
2. Semua kerugian rosot nilai telah direkodkan. Dijangka tiada lagi kejutan di masa hadapan
3. Kedudukan Kewangan telah pulih. Pulangan yang stabil daripada aset yang berdaya saing
4. Sokongan daripada Kerajaan melalui peruntukan tahunan diberikan untuk memastikan semua Sukuk ditebus semula oleh SPV
5. Hak Keutamaan dimiliki TH yang mana TH boleh mengambil semula aset yang telah dipindahkan setelah dipulihkan
6. Tadbir Urus dan Ketelusan yang lebih baik. Pengawalseliaan yang diperkukuhkan serta pengurusan pelaburan dan risiko yang lebih mampan.
7. Subsidi haji masih ada bagi mereka yang ingin menunaikan haji termasuk pengiring.
8. Simpanan penyimpan semua selamat malah dijamin 100% oleh kerajaan.
9. Aset yang dipegang oleh SPV Urusharta Jemaah Sdn Bhd (UJSB) kini diuruskan sendiri oleh UJSB yang diketuai oleh CEO Melayu Muslim bernama Izad Shahadi Mohd Sallehuddin dengan dibimbing oleh 5 orang ahli Lembaga Pengarah yang semuanya Islam. Prokhas dan CEO berbangsa Cina tiada lagi peranan dalam hal ini.
10. Keputusan besar dan penting berkaitan urusan TH semuanya dibawa ke Kabinet Menteri dan tiada sama sekali dikawal oleh Menteri Kewangan atau mana bukan muslim. TH adalah di bawah tugasan YAB Perdana Menteri dan YB Menteri Hal Ehwal Agama sahaja.
11. Pandangan saya bagi pendepositor, bagi sesiapa yang menyimpan untuk menunaikan haji, terlebih baik untuk mereka kekal dalam TH bagi melunaskan hasrat mulia dan kewajiban haji terbabit serta mendapat subsidi haji dari TH. Bagi penyimpan untuk keuntungan yang lain dari itu termasuklah 1.3 % penyimpan kaya di TH yang merupakan pemegang RM 37 bil dari keseluruhan jumlah simpanan RM 74 bil wang penyimpan, bertenanglah sekejap dan kemudian dengar dan fahami penjelasan pihak tabung haji dan bukan orang politik dari mana-mana parti politik sama ada pembangkang atau kerajaan (mereka saling melobi sokongan).
Sebaiknya fahamkan penjelasan CEO Tabung Haji Datuk Zukri Samad sebagaimana yang beliau huraikan dalam sidang media tadi. Biarlah kita mengambil maklumat dari bukan orang politik, ia lebih terpercaya. Insha Allah. 
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Jika masih tidak percaya, maka duit simpanan itu adalah duit anda, anda paling berhak menentukan keputusan terbaiknya. Tahniah bagi mereka yang mampu membaca dan berusaha faham dari awal sehingga di para terakhir ini. Semoga hidayah dan kebenaran milik kita bersama.
Sekian
Dr. Zaharuddin Abd Rahman
Prof Adjung UNISEL
Pengarah Urusan Elzar Shariah Solution Sdn Bhd 
(www.elzarshariah.com)
4 April 2019
from The Reporter http://bit.ly/2TZWKVn via IFTTT from Cerita Terkini Sensasi Dan Tepat http://bit.ly/2UzPgMZ via IFTTT
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joelyjo · 6 years
Text
Fic - Everything in its Place
Author: joelyjo
Rating: Strong R (sex and birth)
Summary: Scully is determined that the new baby will be born at home. Will it be peace and calm and everything in its place? Or will it be drama-filled all over again?
Author’s Notes: Written for the Nursery Files Labour (Sorry, I can’t bring myself to miss out the U) Day challenge, although it’s a bit late because I’m a bit rubbish at deadlines. Any feedback is very welcome. I’m fairly new to the fandom on tumblr, if not to writing, and eager for anything, be it positive or negative! Thanks, all.
 Tagging: @marinafrenzy and @today-in-fic
 William came into the world like a storm. When Scully thinks back to that night in Democrat Hot Springs, all she remembers is the white-hot pain and the burn of anxiety. She’d never felt more alone in a room full of people. Never been so terrified.
This time, she is adamant. It will be a peaceful birth. It will be at home and she will have Mulder with her through every contraction and every push. She tells her doctor all this and he listens, calmly and patiently.
“It’s lovely that you have such a clearly outlined birth plan, Dana. But you must remember that babies come when they are ready and things rarely go to plan. Be prepared for your plan to get shot all to hell.”
Scully sees Mulder looking from the doctor to her and back again and can read his thoughts like an open book. He does not fancy this doctor’s chances at appealing to Scully’s sense of reason and logic. “Mulder,” she says, pre-empting his interjection. “You know this is what I want.”
“Oh, I know it, Scully.” He glances again at the doctor, their gazes conspiratorial. She knows they will speak when he can get her out of earshot. Well, let them plot, she thinks. She will have this baby at home and everything will be in its place.
Six weeks before her due date, she begins to nest. The house is cleaned from top to bottom. She gets down on her knees and scrubs things that haven’t been scrubbed in decades, turns out cupboards and drawers, vacuums until she breaks the vacuum. Mulder tries to help, but most of the time his efforts end in him failing to meet her exacting standards and giving up before they come to blows over the right way to fold tiny onesies and stack diapers.
Her mood is alternately calm and zen then raging like a hurricane. She can’t sleep properly, can’t get comfortable in any position… and, just when she thinks things are at their nadir, they have a heatwave. July sun pounds down on the house and every room is hotter than hell. She curses Mulder for not fixing the AC and casts him from the house to find an engineer, but every engineer in the state is booked up for weeks. So instead she basks in front of a desk fan, takes to wandering the house in her underwear. Mulder stares and spends the week trying to hide a series of persistent erections. She is almost ready to climb into the refrigerator when the heat breaks in a massive thunderstorm that lasts most of the night.
In the morning, he brings her coffee and rye toast in bed and she feels like a different woman. She realises why when she stands naked before the bedroom mirror and sees that the baby has dropped. Mulder comes from behind her and wraps his arms around her, his big hands cupping the massive watermelon of her abdomen. “I can breathe again, Mulder,” she tells him, almost dizzy with the rush of oxygen. He smiles and kisses her neck.
“Not long now,” he murmurs and she smiles back at him. She is ready.
But nothing happens. Days pass and her due date approaches. Her bad mood returns and Mulder does his best to keep out of her way. Even that is not enough, though, and one day she follows him into work, waddling down to the basement to complain about the mess and try to take over his latest investigation. Skinner finds them arguing an hour later and nothing can hide the expression that passes across his face when his eyes fall on her swollen belly.
“Agent Scully, what are you doing here?”  His voice is full of concern, but there’s just enough chastisement to make her blood boil. She rounds on him.
“This is my office. I can be in it if I wish… sir.”
Skinner glances at Mulder and the two men share a beleaguered look. Scully’s fury mounts. She is standing behind the desk, her hands on her hips, and she knows she is more intimidating than an angry bull.
It takes them two hours to convince her to go home.
Two days later, the midwife comes to the house. Her name is Joy and she is a sweet, middle-aged Hispanic lady with amazing hair and a no-nonsense manner. She wastes no time at all in scoping out the house, sizing up where to place the birthing pool, the foetal monitor, the weighing scales, the gas cylinders. Scully is heartened by her professionalism and tells Mulder how pleased she is that they found the extra $500 for a nurse-midwife. “It’s not that I’m expecting anything to go wrong,” she tells Joy. “I’m a medical doctor myself and I’ve done this in somewhere with no electricity and no running water.” She leaves out the bit about being surrounded by alien witnesses. Joy may appear no-nonsense, but that detail is likely to send her packing. “But I am glad you are going to be here.”
“It’s nice that you’re happy and feel secure, Miss Scully,” Joy replies. “But I want you to remember that birth is a funny old game. It happens when it happens and how it happens can be anybody’s guess. Be prepared to find yourself back in the hospital because I won’t allow anything to happen that puts you or your baby at risk.”
Mulder nods in the background.
That evening, they fire up the grill and Mulder cooks steak and spicy vegetable kebabs. Afterwards, they sit together on the porch swing in the gathering darkness and watch the night insects crowding around the lamps. Mulder cradles her belly, rubbing gentle circles over the taut skin and Scully finds herself softening with his touches. “I’m sorry if I’ve not been very easy to live with these last few weeks,” she confesses.
Behind her, Mulder chuffs out a laugh. “I think I preferred being dead.”
She scowls at him and bats his bicep with her hand. “I’m huge, my feet are so swollen I can barely get my shoes on, my whole body aches, I want to pee constantly, I can’t get comfortable, I can’t sleep but I’m so tired. It’s enough to put anyone in a bad mood.”
“Yeah,” says Mulder ruefully. “I guess I never thought about it before. I didn’t really pay attention last time – there were other things on my mind.”
“I know.”
She twists and leans up to kiss him. He is warm and there is the lingering taste of spices on his breath. “I love you,” she says against his mouth. He doesn’t reply, but he takes her face in his hands and kisses her thoroughly and she hears him anyway.
Three days later, she wakes with backache and an odd feeling in her abdomen. It’s not pain, as such, but a kind of tightness. She goes to the calendar and crosses off the previous day, a habit she got into around 30 weeks and mulls the sensation over. Her due date is tomorrow. The day after Labor Day. She can’t remember clearly feeling anything similar before, but then, she muses, everything happened so fast towards the end that, like Mulder, she didn’t notice much of anything with any focus.
She showers and dresses while he goes out for a run, setting some coffee to brew when she thinks he’s been gone about his usual time. Taking her own mug of green tea out onto the porch, she unfolds one of the loungers and is dozing in the sunshine when he bounds up the porch steps, sweaty and breathing hard. He greets  her with a kiss and a cheerful, “Enjoying the holiday weekend, Scully?”
She opens one eye and regards him critically. “Ugh. Go shower and then we’ll talk. There’s coffee in the pot.”  
He nods, grins and withdraws upstairs. A moment later she hears the water start in the bathroom, then some time later, he returns in chino shorts and a tank, hair wet and with the scent of shower gel on his skin. He hoists himself up and perches on the porch rail with the kind of nimbleness that makes Scully ache with jealousy. Sitting there with his tanned, muscular limbs on show he looks all of twenty-five instead of fifty-something. “It’s Labor Day, the weather’s great,” he says. “What shall we do?”
“Have a baby?” she suggests.
“Well, yeah, there is that,” he agrees with a grin. “But what if baby’s not playing ball?”
Scully sighs. She is done with being pregnant, done to the point that any activity other than giving birth seems an unattractive option.
“I know you’re sick of this, Scully,” he says.
She makes a face. “No kidding, Mulder.”
“Yeah… No kidding. But is it better to be sick of it stuck indoors sniping at each other or sick of it outside in the sunshine with a chance of being distracted?”
Considering his suggestion, she thinks that she could quite easily hunker down here on the lounger for the rest of the day, but she can see the look in his eyes and knows that if she chooses that, he might just go anyway, without her, and that she absolutely does not want. “Okay,” she agrees.
“A walk and an ice-cream at Burke Lake?”
The idea surprises her with how good it sounds. “Yeah… Okay. You’re going to have to help me tie my shoes though.”
The lake is glorious in the early September sunshine and after she manoeuvres herself out of the car, she has to stand a moment, flexing the muscles in her back and admiring the expanse of twinkling water. Scully wonders briefly why he chose here, of all the places he could’ve picked, but can’t put her finger on a reason why. The place is sort of familiar and she figures she must have visited before with her family or maybe with Daniel or Jack – it’s the kind of place you might come with a romantic partner. He comes to stand behind her and looks out at the lake too. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” She nods. “You up for a short walk, then?”
There are other people here, but it is not as busy as she imagined it would be, so they set off on one of the flat, easy trails along the lakeside. She feels huge and ungainly and walks so slowly she is sure Mulder must be frustrated, but he seems content to fall into pace beside her. She reaches for his hand and he takes it, interlocking their fingers and then smiling down at her, his eyes obscured by sunglasses. “Okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
They walk for a mile or so, then she has to stop. Her back is still aching and although she had thought the exercise might have helped it, it doesn’t seem to have had that effect. She perches on a boulder and rolls her shoulders, stretching herself out. Mulder leaves her alone and jogs down to edge of the river to skim stones across the gently lapping surface. “Hey,” she shouts after a few moments. “You promised me ice-cream!”
He turns and grins up at her. “I sure did, Scully. You want to head back?”
“I want ice-cream.”
On the way back to the car, Scully spots a picnic area and a kiosk selling snacks and ice cream and instructs Mulder to make good on his offer. While he goes to fulfil his duty, she wanders vaguely amongst the empty wooden tables then beyond through the parkland. She finds a shady spot beneath a tree and eases herself down onto the grass, feeling a little like a camel trying to get its awkward limbs folded in just the right way. Mulder returns with two enormous cones of ice-cream drizzled in strawberry sauce and drops down beside her. They sit and eat in silence for a while, then Mulder pauses and frowns. “You are sure about this home birth thing, aren’t you?”
She blinks and turns to him. She had guessed this was coming, in fact, she’s surprised he hasn’t said something already. It’s felt like he’s been holding back since Joy visited. “It’s just… If I’d had to place a bet on where you’d want to have this baby, it wouldn’t have been our lounge.”
She is half a breath away from snapping at him, tired and defensive as she is, then stops herself. Instead, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Mulder, when William was born, I was surrounded by aliens, in a place I’d never seen before, with nobody I loved nearby. It was the most frightening experience of my life.” Mulder’s face is still, but his eyes are locked on hers. “I don’t know why I’ve been given this second chance, why we’ve been given this, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that things are as far removed from that first experience as I can make them. So I don’t want a roomful of people, and a strange hospital suite. I want home…” She reaches out to take his hand in hers. “And us.”
“Even if it’s dangerous?”
“There’s no reason to think that it will be dangerous,” she assures. “I’m fit and healthy, all the scans have shown the baby is fit and healthy too. We have Joy. We’re not hundreds of miles from civilisation with an alien threat hanging over us. I’ve done this before.”
He stares at her for a long time, then starts to nod. She smiles as she realises he is acquiescing to her wishes and squeezes his hand. He returns the gesture and then places his hand on her belly, palm flat, and holds it there. Scully watches him, remembering another time when he touched her in the same way, when she lay in a hospital bed and neither of them was sure about anything. “Home,” he says, and his voice is rough with emotion. “Us.” He leans in to kiss her, softly at first, then with a growing passion.
Breaking away, she looks around them. It is quiet but still a public place, and she can hear the distant sounds of children whooping and yelling down by the lake, the hum of a motorboat. The sun glints off faraway car windows. She hunkers closer to him and presses her mouth to his neck. “You know,” she murmurs against his skin, “they say that one of the most reliable ways to bring on labour is to have sex.”
Mulder pulls back and regards her amusedly. “Here?” She arches her brows. “My, my, Dana Scully, what has got into you? I’m not objecting, but…” Her hand closes around his crotch and his breathing hitches. “But… wow. You must really be sick of this.”
“You have no idea, Mulder,” she tells him and kisses him again. Desperation has made her bolder than she’s ever been and right now, she couldn’t care less if her priest spotted her across the parking lot.
“I’ll warn you now, Scully, I’ve had several fantasies about this.”
He bites her lip and watches, looking somewhat punch-drunk, as she straddles him, the fabric of her dress stretching and rucking up so her knees are revealed.  “Tell me about them,” she commands, and grinds down on him. Mulder’s answering groan is like fire coursing in her blood. Sex has been the last thing on her mind for months but suddenly she is consumed with aching desire. She wants him and she wants him bad.
Mulder rubs his hands up and down her thighs. “You really want to know?”
“I do,” she replies. She is rocking herself against his leg now, and she can see him through his shorts, hard like a bar. Her hands are on his button. It is crazy that she’s contemplating fucking him right here, in a public park, but her entire body seems to be humming with need for him.  
“I’ll be honest, Scully,” he says, breaking her train of thought. “Doing it outside hasn’t been in that many fantasies of mine. But…” He glances around them, listening dog-like a moment. “Making love to you somewhere where we might get caught… Now we’re talking. That one has always been high on my list.”
She’s hot now and can feel herself throbbing with eagerness. She slides his zipper down and reaches in to feel him, stroking hard from root to tip. His eyes flutter closed a moment. “Have we ever been caught?” she asks. “In these fantasies of yours?” He lifts himself and she undresses him so that he’s free. A moment later and her hand is on his cock, skin to skin, and she revels in the way his face changes. She is pretty sure she could ask him to deny that aliens exist in this moment and he’d lurch to his feet and shout it as loud as his lungs could make him.
“I did once imagine that Skinner caught us,” he says, his words made breathless by what she’s doing to him. “But all I could see after that was his face and it kind of ruined it for me. So, no, let’s say not.” He thrusts into her hand. “Is there anybody about?”
“Not a soul,” she tells him with a smile and eases up his body. His hands reach and pull aside her panties so he can push inside her. “Now shut up and fuck me, Mulder.”
And he does.
Later, they lie curled up together in the haze of orgasmic bliss, alternately kissing and dozing. He strokes her belly and teases for more until she has to push him away because her back is driving her mad now. He pouts a little, but relents and uses the rejection to rise to his feet, button himself back up and stretch. “Why here, Mulder?” she asks him as he holds out his hand and pulls her to standing. “It’s lovely, but there were lots of other places we could have gone – fireworks displays, outdoor parties, concerts…”
They start to walk back towards his car.  
“You don’t remember, Scully?”
“Remember what?”
“Long time ago… eighteen years ago, actually. I came here on a lead. There’d been a bigfoot sighting in the woods on the other side of the lake – it was a load of bull, but it was something to do on a Saturday afternoon. And you called me and we talked about stuff. We made arrangements to go for dinner that evening.” He looks down at her, his smile years away and drifting on the recollections of memory. “And when we finished up talking, just before you hung up, you told me you loved me.”
She can’t help the grin that breaks on her face. “So I’ve never even been here before?”
“Well, no, I guess not.”
A laugh burbles out of her. Mulder looks wounded.
“It’s not that funny. It’s a special place to me.”
“Oh Mulder,” she giggles, “that is so perfectly you.”
“The hazards of a eidetic memory…” He holds out his hand and she takes it. “Come on, let’s go home. We can pick up a pizza on the way back.”
They take a detour into DC to get her favourite pizza and while they’re waiting for their order, watch as a fireworks display over the Potomac kicks off. He suggests taking the pizza and going to listen to the National Symphony Orchestra on the West Lawn but she’s been before and so has he and all she really wants now is to get home, take off her too-tight sneakers, put on her pyjamas and feast on garlic stuffed crust double pepperoni and mushroom pizza.
So he takes her home and juggles the pizza in one hand as he offers the other to her to help her out of the car. The light is failing now and after he dumps the pizza on the coffee table, he goes around flicking lamps on while she climbs wearily upstairs to dress for bed.
She’s at the top of the stairs in her pyjamas when she feels a popping sensation in her abdomen and seconds later, fluid pours down her legs and onto the floor. Scully starts and takes a step backwards, gasping involuntarily as she observes the puddle she is now standing in. “Mulder!” she shouts.
“Yeah?” he calls back from the kitchen.
“I need some help here.”
He appears at the bottom of the stairs, beer bottle in hand and frowns up at her. “What’s the matter?”
“Um… I need a cloth, I think.” She looks down at the pool on the floor. She feels a bit dislocated, like she’s hovering above her body and watching rather than actually being here.  
“Oh,” he says, realising. “Okay, um. Yeah.”
Mulder makes a move to go up the stairs, then seems to remember he has a beer bottle in his hand and goes back down, darts into the kitchen and returns with a roll of kitchen towel. Working with an obvious sense of panic, he mops up the pool of fluid then looks up at her. “Are you okay?”
“Mm… Yeah?” She frowns as her abdomen tightens in a clear and obvious contraction. “Ohhh, I think this is it, Mulder.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course it is. I, er… I’ll call Joy. Can you get downstairs okay?”
She nods and, gripping the bannister, she descends slowly. Another contraction hits as she takes the final step and she balks, groaning. Things are happening faster than before, she thinks. That was just about thirty seconds between contractions. She’s about to open her mouth and explain this to Mulder, when he appears in front of her, pale-faced. “Scully, I’m making my panic face. Joy’s not answering. Her phone is going to answer machine. I’ve, I’ve left a message, but I don’t know what else to do. Do you want me to call an ambulance?”
“No!” she barks and Mulder flinches. She does not want an ambulance, because ambulances take you to only one place, the ER, and there is no way she is having this baby on a gurney in the ER. “No,” she repeats, steadier. “Keep trying Joy. She’s maybe out at some kind of party and can’t hear her phone.” Drawing in a deep breath and feeling her uterus relax, she adds, “We’ve got time. This isn’t happening right away.”
Mulder nods. He looks a little lost, which strikes her as vaguely amusing. A man who has faced mutants and alien bounty hunters and serial killers is overcome by the prospect of the birth of his own child. She reaches out a hand and pats his arm in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. “It’s going to be fine, Mulder. We got this.”
“Hm, yeah, you got this, Scully. Me? I’m not so sure. I’ve never delivered a baby before.”
“You won’t have to. Joy will answer her phone soon.”
Her belly tightens again and this time she has to close her eyes with the strength of it. How long was that apart, she thinks. “Mulder, you’ve got to time the contractions. I need to know how far apart they are.”
“Okay. Okay, I can do that.” He pulls up his sleeve and glances at his watch.
“And we need to fill the pool with water.”
Thirty minutes later and the pool is inflated and filling with water. Mulder, happy to have some distraction to keep him busy, is standing over it in a slightly proprietorial manner, watching the water rising up the sides. “You going straight in, Scully?” he asks, turning to see her in the grip of another contraction. She nods, breathing too hard to reply. She’s been walking about the lounge and kitchen, stopping only when contractions hit. Sweat is pearling on her brow and she reaches up a hand to wipe it away. She’s naked but for one of his t-shirts, her hair scraped back in a scruffy ponytail. It’s undignified, for sure, but right now, she couldn’t care less.
She climbs over the side of the pool and sinks down in the water, the t-shirt darkening. It’s warm and soothing and when the next contraction grips her, it feels a little less like she’s being held by a vice. “Have you tried Joy again?” she asks.
“Still the same.”
Scully closes her eyes and wills calm to embrace her. It’s all right, everything is fine, she can do this. Mulder can do this. She does her best not to see the anxiety behind his eyes. “We need to think of what to do if she doesn’t answer.”
Mulder takes a deep breath. “It’s pretty clear what needs to be done, isn’t it? Either I help you, or we call an ambulance. And since you seem quite against the latter option, I guess it’s you and me, Scully.”
She hums her way through another contraction, shifting position in the pool. “It’s not going to be long, Mulder.”
And it isn’t.
Forty minutes later, the contractions are unrelenting and she’s feeling an intense need to push; Mulder is behind her, hands on her shoulders, his voice in her ear, coaxing, urging, breathing with her.
It’s coming.
She can feel it in her very centre.
She shouts his name, gets up on her knees and holds his arms, vice-like, desperate. He’s still as a rock. She leans forward, presses her forehead to his, breathes his air. “Push, Scully,” he tells her. “Come on, you’re doing this. Push.”  
Behind them, the door clicks and in walks Joy, but neither of them notice. With one last, tremendous effort, the baby is born and Scully looks down to see the water blooming pink and twists around. Joy lifts the tiny body from the water and the air is instantly filled with that beautiful sound of a newborn cry. “Here you go, Mama, take your baby.”
Scully brings the squawking, bluish child to her chest and laughs deliriously, her eyes filling with sudden tears. “Oh my God, Mulder, look…”
She looks up at him and the wonder on his face is worth every hardship she’s ever endured. “She’s beautiful,” he whispers. He kisses the top of her head, then with his thumb, strokes the wet, dark hair on the baby’s forehead.
“What you going to call her?” Joy asks from the side-lines.
Their eyes lock. “Ellen,” replies Mulder. “Ellen Margaret.”
“Ellen Margaret Mulder,” Joy repeats. “Born on Labor Day 2018.”
“Kid’s already got a sense of the apt.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” explains Joy, reaching into her bag. “I was at the concert on the West Lawn. It was just by chance that I checked my phone and realised I’d put the ringer on silent. What an ass I am!” She stands with hands on hips beside the pool, smiling down at them. “But look at the three of you! What a bit of teamwork! You going to cut the cord, Dad? Then you can hold her if you like, while I sort Mom out.”
Mulder looks at Scully and smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.” She can tell he’s nervous and that he’s thinking back to that time in her apartment all those years ago, when he first held William, only to have to run and leave him mere days later. For his sake, she wants him to hold this child and never have to let go. She wants it too, but for Mulder, even more.
Joy clamps the cord, waits a moment, then instructs him to cut. “There we go,” she says. “Good job, guys. You’re an independent being now, Miss Ellen. You go on to your Daddy now while we get your Mama all cleaned up.”
Leaning down and taking the naked baby, Mulder wraps her in a soft muslin blanket. He cuddles her into his body and Scully thinks that her heart might explode from the look on his face. She’s seen this scene in her head over and over, in a thousand dreams and daytime fantasies. Sometimes the baby is William, other times she’s been unsure whether the baby is even hers. But every time, it’s been the smile on his lips that has remained with her, long after the rest of the vision has gone. And so she watches, and takes it all in… the silence in the room, the tick of the ancient clock in Mulder’s study, the creak of the floors as he waltzes aimlessly about the lounge, the softness of the light and the gentle sounds of a newborn baby, the murmur of his voice as he breathes words of love in her tiny ear, and as she watches, the undimming smile on Mulder’s face.      
 The End.
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Multi Fandom Extravaganza Ch. 1
This multi fandom fic is going to be a little different than my other fics in the past in that it’s not really a plot. It’s more of a collection of one shots. Each chapter will contain a collection of small drabbles which with move the story along. These are all of my favorite characters in all of my favorite fandoms. Here are the timelines from each series.
Supernatural: Season 15, they are battling Chuck. Pairing is Castiel/Hannah/Meg.
The Legends of Drizzt: takes place after the events of the novel Exile by R. A Salvatore. Pairing is going to be Drizzt Do’Urdon/Ellifain Tuuserail
Rurounni Kenshin: Takes place sometime in season one of the anime. No romantic pairings, just a platonic bromance between Kenshin and Sanosuke.
Star Trek: The Next Generation: Takes place in season seven. Pairing is Picard/Crusher
Star Trek Deep Space Nine: Takes place in season six. Pairing is Kira/Odo
Star Trek Voyager: Takes place in season seven. Pairing is Janeway/Chakotay
X-files: takes place some time in season seven. Pairing is Mulder/Scully
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Takes place sometime in season four. Pairing will be Willow Rosenburg/Charlie Bradbury from Supernatural
Hobbit: Takes place during the battle of the five armies pairings will be Fili/Original Gnome character from the Forgotten Realms series, and Kili/Original Hobbit character
Lord of the Rings: Takes place during the battle of Helm’s Deep. No pairings, just Faramir, Legolas, and Aragorn bromancing together. There may be a Faramir/Aragorn thing but we’ll see.
Note: This story is not canon in anyway. It falls somewhere between canon divergence and AU. 
Note Two: I don’t own any of these characters (except Asphodel and Brenna, they come from my novel so they are mine, but I adapted them to fit into the Tolkien and Forgotten Realms verse and changed their backgrounds to fit. Everyone else belongs to their associated creators.
Note 3: No haters. This is a collection of rare-pairs for the most part. If you don’t like them, or their fandoms, then don’t read it.
Note 4: there is no real plot, I’m kinda writing as I go, letting my muse do the writing. I would love to have an idea beta, or two, or three for this so let me know if you are interested.
Warnings: There will be plenty of violence, survival themes, struggles, etc. Some of the characters have trauma, some of them start out as enemies. Some of them have violent backgrounds. 
The first chapter is kinda boring, there are a lot of characters and I wanted to quickly introduce them all.
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27217501/chapters/66485341
FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13729681/1/Around-the-World
Chapter One: Introductions
Part One: On the shores of unknown
When Castiel woke up, his head throbbed with pain. But the sun beat down on him. As he opened his eyes, he found himself on the shores of a strange ocean; its sea-green waves crashed onto the sand as two suns hung in the air. 
“When did Earth get a second sun?” the angel wondered as he got slowly to his feet, glancing around him. As he did, he noticed three other figures lying prone on the beach. Quickly, he hurried to the first one. An agile looking creature with the darkest skin Castiel had ever seen, and his long hair was a stark white color as it spread out on the sand around him. 
Castiel knelt, touching the man, trying to see if he was alive. His touch provoked an immediate response, and the man, or creature, whatever he might be, was suddenly sitting up, brandishing a curved scimitar sword so quickly that Castiel nearly stumbled backward in an attempt to back away and avoid having his arm chopped off.
“Who are you!” the man demanded as he got to his feet. “Where am I?” He blinked as he gazed around at his surroundings, and Castiel was perplexed by his strange purple eyes and his pointed ears. 
“I could ask those same questions,” Castiel told him as he stood in front of the man. “My name is Castiel, but I just woke up here, like you.”
“I’m Drizzt Do’Urdon,” the man stammered, as he put a hand to his head and looked around, trying to get his bearings. 
“I believe we are all in the same predicament,” came another voice. Castiel glanced at the other two men. One appeared to be an Asian man with slightly feminine features. He was short and slim. He wore a burgundy men’s kimono with white hakama pants. His red hair was pulled into a ponytail. 
The other man almost looked artificial. He looked as though his face had been sculpted out of clay. He wore a strange tan and yellow uniform jumpsuit. 
“I gather that we aren’t on Earth,” Castiel surmised as he glanced around at the strange faces. Of course, he was wearing his usual beige trench coat and blue tie, but he doubted any of them suspected he wasn’t human. 
The clueless looks on all of their faces most likely mirrored his own. Castiel wondered if maybe this might be one of Chuck’s other worlds. It concerned him, considering that Chuck was busy destroying all of his worlds one by one. This one didn’t seem to be in any danger at the moment. 
“I believe we should introduce ourselves,” Castiel told his companions. “And then we can try to find out where we came from and how to get back.”
“Where I am makes no difference, I suppose,” The samurai responded. “I’m only a wanderer, after all. I do have friends I would like to get back to, however. You can call me Kenshin.”
“I’m Constable Odo,” said their last companion. Castiel turned his attention to Odo. He glanced at him curiously, and he explained. “I am a shapeshifter. I’m afraid I don’t do faces very well.”
“Shapeshifter,” Castiel pondered that. He had no reason to doubt that these people were who they said they were even if he had no idea what sort of beings they were. They all seemed to be from different worlds, perhaps even other realms altogether. “Well, you should all be aware that I am an angel, although I’m afraid I don’t have my wings.”
“I’m only a samurai,” Kenshin replied. “Just a wandering swordsman.”
“I am a drow,” Drizzt explained as he put his blade away. Castiel noted that Drizzt and Kenshin were both armed with swords. Kenshin wore a long katana on his waist while Drizzt wore two scimitars, one on each side of his belt. 
Drizzt wore his thick white hair long and flowing. As the wind picked up, his hair danced around him. He wore a thick green cloak, high boots, and a unicorn bone carving around his neck.
With the introductions concluded, Castiel looked towards the treeline of what looked like a forest. A small stream appeared to be flowing across the sand towards the waves.
“I think if we follow this stream, we may find some clues,” he suggested.
“I could just fly out and see if I can see anything,” Odo suggested. Castiel nodded, feeling envious. He missed his wings. 
Odo quickly morphed into a bird and took off soaring high above the trees. Castiel glanced at the others as they all waited for Odo to return. He could tell that these two both had stories to tell, and he thought maybe their being here was no coincidence. Perhaps he was connected to them somehow. He hoped he would find out soon.
Part Two: A desolate town
Hannah found herself lying in the middle of what appeared to be some sort of convenience store. It seemed to be abandoned, the rows of paper products and candy had been scattered about the floor, and the glass refrigerating walls containing various beverages were all smashed in. Hannah thought maybe there had been a struggle here, and the eerie quiet kept her on her guard.
She’d spend so long in the endless darkness that was the empty. She had endured the moans and cries of dead angels and demons as they called out into the darkness. Their sorrows, their regrets, she wished they could all be silent. 
But in an instant, she was dropped from the empty and left here on Earth. She had no idea why or how, only that she was an angel again. Glancing around her, she heard what sounded like voices outside. Carefully, she walked through the glass and debris towards the door.
The sun was bright and hot as she stepped out onto what appeared to be the concrete surface, which seemed to be a gas station. It looked so much like the many way-stations she and Castiel had visited that she almost expected to see him standing there, or perhaps leaning on his vehicle.
But he wasn’t there. Instead, Hannah found three women standing in front of the gas pumps, chattering to one another. They all glanced over, and one of them quickly produced what Hannah assumed was a weapon.
“Who are you?” the woman wearing a red jumpsuit and pointing a strange weapon at Hannah demanded. She wore short red hair, and as Hannah came closer, she noticed the strange markings on her nose.
“I’m an angel,” Hannah replied softly, holding her hands up as the three of them walked up to her. One of them appeared to be a child, being of much shorter stature, but as she got closer, Hannah could see she wasn’t a child at all, though she appeared young. She had thick curly red hair, large pointed ears, and she was barefoot. 
“An angel?” the third woman was a petite red-haired woman wearing a business suit and a long dark trench coat. Hannah seemed to fit in the most with her, as she wore her grey blazer, dark blue shirt, and jeans. “Even Mulder wouldn’t believe that.”
Hannah felt confused. “I don’t know who Mulder is, but I assure you, I am telling the truth,” she insisted. “My name is Hannah; I am an angel of the lord.”
“Prove it,” the woman insisted, crossing her arms across her chest and raising a brow. Hannah frowned as she realized her powers were weakened. The return from the empty must have drained her. But she gathered what strength she had and focused on a newspaper stand, and suddenly, it burst into flames.
Hannah was quick to put the fire out, and when she turned to the women, they all looked impressed and bewildered. “Is that enough for your approval?” she asked. The red-haired woman nodded.
“I’m special agent Dana Scully,” the woman introduced herself, coming forward, her eyes wide as she looked Hannah over. “I can’t believe I am meeting an angel.”
“My powers are weakened,” Hannah explained, and she glanced at the others. “I assume you all have names as well?”
The taller of the two nodded. “Kira Nerys,” Kira introduced. “I’m a Bajoran. I don’t exactly have any powers.”
“And I’m Asphodel Breeswillow. I’m a Hobbit of the shire,” said the short young woman. “This world is so strange. I knew I shouldn’t have wandered too far from home.”
“We will find our way back to where we belong,” Hannah assured her. “If we work together.” Hannah wasn’t sure of her own words. She didn’t know where they were or where they had all come from. And she wasn’t all that familiar with Earth anyway. But she sensed all these women were reasonable, and maybe with their help, they would all be able to find familiarity. 
Part three: Cave of Wonders
Beverly Crusher had thought she had gone to bed in her own quarters on the Enterprise last night, but when she woke up, she was anywhere but.
It didn’t take her long to learn that she was in a cave and that her companions were as lost as she was. Faramir, captain of Gondor, Meg, a demon, and Ellifain, a pretty black-haired elf, had all been close by when she opened her eyes. 
The mouth of the cave they were in was wide, and it provided adequate shelter for the insufferable heat. But as the four of them ventured outside into the vast grassy plains, which seemed to stretch on forever, they had little protection. The suns above them were relentless. 
“This seems to be a binary system,” Beverly commented as she walked through the tall grass. “Whoever transported us must be nearby.”
“I will be returned to the Moonwoods so I can complete my quest,” Ellifain demanded as she gripped her longbow. 
“What kind of quest are you on, Milady?” Faramir asked as they all walked close to one another. They were all strangers, but every Starfleet survival training course she’d ever taken had always emphasized the importance of working with others.
And in her travels, Beverly had encountered so many different species; these beings and their diverse cultures didn’t feel too strange to her. Though given Faramir and Ellifain’s clothing and attire, Beverly worried that she had stumbled upon a pre-warp society. 
“I’m on a quest for vengeance,” Ellifain explained angrily. “I was hunting him before I was brought him; I must find his trail again.”
“Ooh vengeance, eh?” Meg, the demon lifted a brow. “Sounds sexy. Do tell more.”
“It is not anyone’s concern but my own,” Ellifain retorted as she stormed ahead of them. “And I do not need anyone’s help.”
“I don’t think we should go too far from the cave,” Beverly spoke up as she came to a stop in the grass and turned back towards the direction they had come. A line of towering mountains loomed before them in that direction; the cave had been carved into the rock. “We might need the shelter. The heat can be dangerous.”
“I think she is correct, Milady,” Faramir said politely as he reached out and brushed a hand on Ellifain’s shoulder. The intense glare told Beverly that the elf didn’t approve of the touch. “We don’t know where we are. You may have to put your vengeance on hold for now.”
Ellifain seemed to think about that for a moment and then reluctantly agreed. Beverly was relieved. The cave was much cooler.
Part Four: Forest brook
Kathryn Janeway found the babbling of the brook comforting as she and her three companions sat on its banks, trying to decide on their course of actions.
It didn’t take long for them to understand that they weren’t where they ended up. They all seemed to have similar stories. They were minding their own business, going about their lives, when they’d all woken up here on this strange planet. Their only belongings had been what had been on them at the time.
Janeway was in her uniform, but as she had been off duty at the time and in her quarters, she was unarmed, and she wished she had a tricorder. She did have her communicator, but it seemed to have been damaged.
As she sat on a rock, trying to fix her communicator, the women around her tried to figure out their next course of action. 
“My phone isn’t getting any reception,” Charlie Bradbury said as she turned the device over in her hand, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. Willow Rosenberg, who had claimed she was a college student from California, sat beside her, trying to operate her own phone. The two of them seemed to be from the same world- or same time perhaps, as their sense of fashion seemed similar. They both wore jeans and t-shirts. They had also revealed something significant. That they were from Earth… but not the Earth Janeway had been hoping for. 300 years ago.
The fourth woman had been a very short-statured young woman with a brazen attitude. Brenna was a gnome from the north, at least that is what she had told them all. But she was quick to bark orders at everyone; her sharp tongue seemed to make up for her short stature tenfold.
“If we follow the river, it might lead us to a village,” she explained as she perched on a rock and put her hands in her lap. “They could at least tell us where we are.”
“If there are other people on this planet, we don’t want to startle them,” Janeway explained calmly. “And some of my crew may have ended up here; I want to get my communicator fixed. They’d at least be able to pick up my signal. 
“I don’t care for strange human devices,” Brenna sneered. “I was about to lead my people on a caribou hunt; I must return.”
“Oh, poor Rudolph,” Willow commented quickly as she glanced up from her phone. “Caribou are so cute.”
Brenna shrugged. “My people have lived off of them for as long as we have lived in the north,” she replied. And Janeway noted that she was wearing thick animal hides and furs, no doubt to keep her warm in the cold climate which she had described. 
It was then that as Janeway used a long hair clip to manipulate the controls in her communicator, everyone heard the familiar chirp. Eagerly, Janeway opened the comm, knowing it was a long shot.
“This is Captain Kathryn Janeway to anyone who is in range,” she spoke into the communicator as Willow and Charlie watcher her curiously. “Does anyone read my signal?”
“Kathryn?” came a familiar voice through the communicator. Janeway smiled with relief at the sound of Chakotay’s voice.
“Chakotay, where are you?” she asked, “I don’t know how I ended up on this planet, but I’m not alone.”
“Neither am I, Captain,” came Chakotay’s static-filled answer. “We’re in some sort of farmhouse in the middle of a pasture. We all just woke up here.”
Janeway frowned. Did Chakotay end up stranded on this planet too? They had to find each other. “I’m in a forest, near a stream,” she reported. “Stay where you are; we’ll try to make it out of here and try to find you. You must not be far.”
“We’ll do what we can, Chakotay out.” The comm disconnected, but Janeway felt a whole lot better knowing there was at least someone she was familiar with on this planet, and the comm signal told her that they weren’t too far away.
“How are you even getting service?” Charlie asked as she held her phone in her hand. “I’m not getting anything.”
Janeway didn’t know how to explain. The archaic-looking device looked primitive compared to her comm. “Futuristic technology,” she explained as she got to her feet. “Come on, we have to find Chakotay, and with any luck, we will be able to find Voyager.”
With that, the four of them headed along the river. None of them knew where they were going, and Janeway hoped that they were heading in the right direction and not further away from Chakotay.
Part Five: Desolate plains
Fili was glad that when he had woken up, his brother had been there—seeing Kili there beside him looking as confused and lost as he had made him feel better about their situation, precarious though it was.
But now, they were in real trouble. The two of them and their two companions- a human named Fox Mulder and a human named Sagara Sanosuke- had found themselves in the middle of a prairie, and it seemed to go on forever.
The suns were becoming dangerous. Fili was so thirsty, and beads of sweat trickled down his face as he pressed on. They had to keep going, he told himself. There had to be relief for them somewhere. 
“Brother,” Kili groaned as he stumbled along. “I… I can’t.” Fili turned and grabbed him before he fell. Kili gasped as he gazed up at his brother.
“Come on, brother, we have to keep going,” Fili insisted as Mulder and Sanosuke turned toward them. “We’ll find something soon.”
“Hey, I think I see something,” Sanosuke spoke up as he turned to gaze out towards the horizon. “It might be a town.”
Fili groaned. “It’s probably a mirage,” he suggested as he pulled Kili to his feet, and the four of them started walking again. “I am sure this prairie must go on forever.”
“We should head in that direction anyway,” Mulder said as he draped his trenchcoat over his head, shielding his head from the relentless suns.
Fili let out a breath as he complied. His legs felt like lead as he concentrated on stumbling along as Kili followed him. He worried about the battle that the two of them had left behind. 
“Do you think Uncle held the mountain against Azog?” Kili stammered, voicing Fili’s thoughts. Fili couldn’t be sure. And he wasn’t even sure this wasn’t the afterlife. He remembered Azog grabbing him; he remembered the fiery pain as he felt the orc’s blade enter his body. He was prepared to die; he thought he was going to die.
And then… he woke up here in the middle of this field with Kili and two strangers who were dressed very strangely. 
“I don’t know, Kili,” Fili said after a pause. “I hope so.”
All Fili knew is that no matter what happened, he had to look after his brother. He didn’t know if he could trust Sanosuke with his strange spikey hair or Mulder with his strange black coat, but they seemed as lost as the dwarves were and Fili felt compelled to follow them towards the horizon.
Part Six: desolate farm
Chakotay finished inspecting the farmhouse he had woken up in. It felt as though it had been there for ages. There were no signs of life except for the three he had woken up close to—two men from Middle Earth, and Captain Jean-Luc Picard whom Chakotay only knew by reputation.
“We found human remains,” Chakotay glanced up from his communicator after he ended his conversation with Janeway. He felt so relieved to hear Kathryn’s voice, and to know that she was here somewhere on this planet made him feel a lot better. 
But when he turned to see Picard, he focused on the tasks at hand. “Remains?” he repeated as he followed the captain along. He found Legolas and Aragorn out behind the house in the rocky pasture field; they seemed to be examining the bodies. 
“They have been dead for far too long,” the blonde-haired elf explained as Chakotay looked at the skeletons lying in the dirt. “Perhaps years.”
“They must have been the previous inhabitants of this place,” Chakotay surmised as he turned to look at the farmhouse. They had examined the interior already. It was a large house in an advanced state of decay. The wood was rotting, the furniture inside and the rugs had all turned to mold and dust. The glass windows were broken in. The wood had been in such bad shape that none of them would risk venturing upstairs to inspect the rooms. At the ground level, they had found an old antique kitchen with a wood-burning stove and furnishing that looked as though they belonged in the 19th century.
Chakotay was curious to explore this place, being that he enjoyed archaeology. He had learned quickly that Picard shared that particular interest with him, and the two had set about trying to determine what kind of people these long-gone inhabitants were and how they lived.
“They may have died of old age,” Chakotay suggested. Legolas and Aragorn knew one another from whatever world they had come from; they claimed they had been in a battle before they arrived here. And their simple hide leather outfits seemed to fit the part.
“I got ahold of Captain Janeway,” Chakotay reported to Picard. “She’s on this planet, in a forest somewhere. I suggest we wait here for her.”
“There seemed to be little else to do in any case,” Picard agreed. “Except look for more clues about the people who lived here.” As Chakotay watched, Picard pulled out his tricorder, scanning for any clue to where they are. Chakotay felt relieved that at least one of them had been equipped with a tricorder before being brought here.
“I am reading other life forms,” Picard explained. “More than a dozen humanoid life signs within a 10-mile radius. It’s hard to get a clear reading here, and I am picking up a faint federation signature coming from north of here; it's heading in our direction.”
“That has to be Captain Janeway,” Chakotay said. He didn’t know who these other life forms could be; they were all too far away for anyone to see. But many of them were heading in their direction, so Chakotay could only hope that they will be friendly.
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desxtruction · 4 years
Text
Updated Muse List
Primary Muses -
Animal Kingdom Zee Soranson (OC) Renn Randall
Batman Chase Meridian Julie Madison Vicki Vale Barbara Wilson/Batgirl Madolyn Wayne (OC)
Birds of Prey Helena Bertinelli
Beauty and the Beast Belle
Fandomless Shasta Koval (OC) Danika Sands (OC)
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Cameron Frye Sloane Peterson
Halloween Laurie Strode
Jennifer’s Body Jennifer Check
Lucifer Chloe Decker Trixie Espinosa
Normal People Marianne Sheridan
Once Upon A Time In Hollywood Cliff Booth
The Outsiders Cherry Valance
Robin Hood Maid Marian
Romeo and Juliet Juliet Capulet
Twilight Bella Swan
Secondary Muses -
Animal Kingdom Nicky Belmont Frankie Billy
Batman Jones Sciorra (OC) Ariana Falcone (OC) Ellie Bullock (OC) Nova Liu (OC)
Batman Beyond Dana Tan
Batman The Animated Story Veronica Vreeland Leslie Thompkins Renee Montoya The Boys Becca Butcher The Breakfast Club Allison Reynolds Richard Vernon
The Craft Bonnie Harper
Fandomless Chloe Rydell (OC) Vienna Marks (OC) Portia Clarke (OC)
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Jeanie Bueller
Footloose Ariel Moore
Gangster Squad Grace Faraday
Ghost World Enid Coleslaw Halloween H20 John Tate-Strode
Hamlet  Ophelia
The Hitcher John Ryder
Jack Ryan Series Cathy Mueller-Ryan
Lucifer Maze
The Office Stanley Hudson
Once Upon A Time In Hollywood Squeaky Fromme
Red Riding Hood Valerie
Secret Window Mort Rainey/Shooter
St. Elmo’s Fire Jules Van Patten
Stranger Things Erica Sinclar
Twilight Rosalie Hale
Yellowstone Monica Dutton
Request Only Muses - 
American Hustle Sydney Prosser
Lucifer The Goddess
A Nightmare on Elm Street Glen Lantz
Batman Rachel Dawes (AU-based unless we’ve plotted beforehand)
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poeticsandaliens · 7 years
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A Pirate’s Life for Me Chapter 7
Pairing: Stella/Scully
Notes: I failed to make good on my promise that there'd be a battle in this chapter, but they did have sex again so I'm giving myself a free pass. I had to move the fight scenes forward to make room for the sex, and I have no regrets. 
Tagging @today-in-fic
AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11405793/chapters/30142176
Part 6 , Part 5 , Part 4 , Part 3 , Part 2 , Part 1
“You’ll have to cut it off,” Stella said apologetically, brushing her fingers through the knot in Scully’s hair.
Scully frowned. The musky air and saltwater swims made her hair wild and tacky. One morning she’d woken with a bird’s nest tangle, and unable to brush it out, she had watched it get progressively worse. She had always enjoyed her long red curls, the intricate updos she had worn on the mainland. She supposed the life she was currently living called for a change.
“Cut it,” she muttered.
“Aye.” Stella nodded and unsheathed her dagger. It was thin and well-polished, gleaming in the moonlight. A lump rose in Scully’s throat, but she forced it down. The metal touched her sunburnt neck, and she fought back a shiver.
Stella pulled the wavy ends of her hair taut between callused fingers, and Scully heard the soft chop as she sliced them through, like the sound of an old woman snipping the end of her sewing thread. She tossed the knotted bundle of Scully’s hair into the sea.
Scully touched the clean-cut ends of her hair, settling just above her shoulder blades. Loose and flat-bottomed and fluttering about her cheeks, a feeling she was unaccustomed to after years of complicated knots and braids tugging at her neck.
“I like it,” she said.
Stella drummed her fingers on Scully’s waist. “You haven’t seen it yet.”
“Regardless, I like it.” It was easy and amateur, off-kilter in a way that belonged beneath a sailor’s cap. Perhaps a kerchief, she mused, eyeing the dark banana tied around Stella’s forehead as if she were a bandit.
Stella’s hand loosened on Scully’s waist, slipping down to her hip. “Pirate,” she whispered, and with her back turned Scully didn’t know whether she’d meant it to be heard.
“Fuck me,” Scully muttered under her breath, meant to reach Stella’s ears.
Stella spun her quickly around so their noses bumped awkwardly, and Stella’s bloodless chest pressed against her, pushing her backward. Their boots scuffed the deck, meandering slowly toward the converging V of the bow until Scully’s back hit wood.
The pirate’s cold hands tugged teasingly at the waist of her trousers.
“Fuck me,” Scully murmured again. “Fuck me right here on deck, and I don’t care how many ghosts can hear us.”
Stella pressed their lips together, and neither the salt sticking to their skin nor the cracks in their lips worried them. Scully pressed her elbows into the wheel, her shirt slipping from her shoulder as Stella wrapped an arm between her back and the ship’s splintered wood. She deepened the kiss, pulling Stella’s cool body toward her until it didn’t matter if Stella’s hand was in the way—her spine dug into the ship.
She slid down the wall, her teeth grazing Stella’s bottom lip. Her skin was dusted in crystals of salt, the crinkles in her eyes glittering in the moonlight. Weathered and tanned in daylight, Stella was bone-white in the dark, a phantom with roving fingers and a sharp tongue.
They knotted together on splitting boards; splinters crept into Stella’s knuckles, into her knees, and lined Scully’s spine like stitches as Stella ground their bodies against each other. A sound escaped her she could neither recall nor repeat as Stella’s hand slid beneath her trousers, and she rocked to the rhythm of the Dutchman. No one could catch them here, and she didn’t bite her tongue or hold back a moan; she didn’t swallow down her encouragement as Stella fucked her against the swaying wheel. When she came, she cried out, and the ocean swallowed it for her.
                                                         * * *
They leaned against the bow as the night sky opened before them like a kraken's maw. Scully could smell the salt clinging to her skin, wrinkling her shirt and breeches. Her hat had only done so much to shade her from the sun, and she could feel her lips split at their seams like doll stitches. Her skin was tan and flaky—what was salt and what was sunlight she couldn’t discern. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, as if she’d aged years in the time she’d spent on the Flying Dutchman. If she had, it might not have surprised her. Few things could surprise her anymore.
She turned to Stella, who was swigging a bottle of rum from the cellar. She wasn’t drunk—the dead didn’t get drunk, apparently. Her blonde hair was still post-coital wild, though she’d straightened the purple bandanna tied snugly around her forehead. It enhanced her angular features, lining up her eyebrows and darkening her already stern stare. She wore nothing over her breasts, nothing over the thick, white scar that sliced between them. Her shirt was wrapped around her waist; only a hip holster crossed her chest, her pistol resting snugly inside it.
“Target practice today?” Scully asked, eyeing the pistol.
Stella cocked her head. “Perhaps. Though I won’t be surprised if we spot our destination today. I’m not sure what one more lesson will do for you; you’ve learned everything you’re prepared to do.”
“If I have to shoot a man, I will.”
Stella nodded as if she were satisfied. “It’s not just about that,” she said after a long pause. “Sometimes it’s not about who shoots first, kill or be killed. I know that when you kill a man, it’s a strike against your moral righteousness. It’s not about knowing when to strike the blow without doing wrong—you’re always doing wrong. It’s about being okay with the wrong, knowing that sometimes being the pirate is being the better man.”
Scully held her gaze. “I know.”
“You’re not going to be moral if you live through this venture. You have to square with a fucked up moral compass. When you pull that trigger, you may not be right, but sometimes being right and being just don't line up. Scully, that is the last shooting lesson I can give you, and it’s one I learned late.”
“You learned it when Spector escaped?”
Stella pressed her lips together. “Yes.”
“Do you regret that night?” Scully asked.
Stella sighed, twirling a strand of blonde hair on her finger and tossing it over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed; her shoulders tensed. “I regret not shooting him—I thought I was bound by the honor of a proper duel. Ten years to mull it over, and I’ve realized the woman he murdered deserved greater justice than I did honor. My name and honor are worth little but legend.”
“He ripped Padgett's knife from your neck.” The bare cord hung between Stella’s bare breasts, frayed and withered with time. It dangled ominously between she and Scully each time they had sex. It scratched Scully's face when Stella lay atop her in the captain's cabin.
“No he didn’t," admitted Stella.
“That’s what you told Burns,” Scully said wrinkling her brow.
Stella shrugged tensely. “It sounds more foreboding than what actually happened—I left it in Dani’s cabin, so that no one who saw it would know it belonged to Davy Jones. But I didn’t know Spector was already searching for it, had already seen it on Padgett himself many years ago. He stole it from the Ophelia, and Dani only realized after he’d vanished into the horizon. My only assurance was that he would never find the heart it carved.”
“Why lie?”
“Because the age-old tale of vengeance—the knife tearing from ‘round my neck, the burns of strangling cord—are truer to me than a thief nicking a dagger from an empty cabin as if he hadn’t just raped a young woman next door.”
She wondered how much of the myth of Stella Gibson was truer than her reality. How much of Davy Jones felt more real than Stella herself? She questioned aloud, “Is that why you wear the cord?”
“It reminds me of the threat Spector still poses. It reminds me that I must deal him justice, because no one else will.”
Scully remembered her father’s final words of advice before he departed on his final Navy voyage. He had passed her a lucky compass, broken some years after his death, pushed her tiny finger over the needle and pointed to the North shore.
Never check your compass on the Captain’s Dana. Always align it to the stars on your own.
Lieutenant Scully hadn’t joined the Navy because his fellows did. He had witnessed the duties no one wanted were often the most important. He swabbed sand and salt from the deck each morning and polished swords after a battle. Perhaps he was meticulous, a perfectionist who’d learned trust only his own hands. Scully only imagined him as righteous and true-hearted, witty at the most crucial of times.
She ruffled her newly-shorn hair and brushed the strands of red hair off her trousers. Would he be proud of the woman she had become? Had he been alive, would have stopped her going after Mulder? Would he have brought her aboard a Navy vessel and told horror stories of the Flying Dutchman?
Scully leaned against the ship’s twelve-spoked wheel, shifting with the creak of its aged wood. “Stella,” she started cautiously.
“Yes?” Stella sheathed her dagger.
“What did your father say when you took his place? How did he not…” she trailed off.
Stella sighed. “I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. When I arrived in London, he didn’t recognize me at first; he couldn’t reconcile the pirate with the elegant young woman he remembered. He never came to terms with the lawless aged captain—perhaps it was the piracy, or perhaps he simply never accepted my aging.
“We were too different to talk about our lives—imagine the dinner conversation between a pirate captain and Navy commander—but we did have an understanding. At any rate, when my mother told me to remove the bandanna from my head for dinner, he told me not to listen. He understood the sailor's ways, if nothing else.”
Stella laughed and shook her head. “He was a grave man, my father. He had these dark, hollow eyes like the tunnels beneath windswept saplings and skin like crumpled parchment. He always looked haunted to me, though I never saw him before his encounter with Padgett. That day, though, he seemed a skeleton; he had thinned and lengthened and when I put the chest on the table his fingers wrapped around it, long and slim as sewing needles.
“‘So the Dutchman has come for me,’ he said, and—” she chuckled humorlessly— “my poor mother fainted in her chair. He knew what it entailed; he knew the bargain he had made. He placed the chest on his nightstand and went about saying his goodbyes to friends and neighbors. All evening, folk I hadn’t seen in years dropped by the house to see him. He had sung at their grandparents’ funerals, taught them to sail, told them every story he knew from his Navy days to their adventure-hungry children, seen them born and raised and married.
“One by one they stepped over the threshold of my family home and shook my father’s hand, said hello to my mother. Then they would hurry off at the sight of me. I frightened them, with my sword and kerchief, an escaped convict and a pirate inside and out. And I wanted nothing to do with them after the distain they’d showed me as a young girl.
“That night I wanted nothing more than to sleep in my rocking ship, free of the men and women who knew my name before it had ‘Captain’ in front. I could hear my father toss miserably in his sleep. I made up my mind then, and took the chest from his bedside table and left a note— our debts are paid . If he was awake, he didn’t look at me.”
Scully sat with her legs curled to her chest, against the wheel. She marveled at Stella’s matter-of-fact tone.
“What made up your mind, if you don’t mind my asking?” She still hesitated to pose such personal questions, despite their pledge of honesty, and despite knowing Stella in what she considered the most personal fashion. Stella kept her emotions far more private than her body. Scully was quite the opposite, excepting the small treasure of secrets she would hardly breathe to herself.
“The sea was my home, but my father… he always said his voyages were no more than interludes. He loved his neighbors, the moors, and his quiet cottage on a hill. He loved his wife and children, and every stranger he met in the streets on warm, clear nights.”
She paused, looking over the Dutchman’s rail to a full moon trembling on the ocean surface. “My father loved everyone he met,” she said, “and I loved my father.”
Scully reached for the sharp edge of Stella’s cheek, then thought better of it. “Is he still alive?”
Stella shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I never saw him again.”
Perhaps that was Stella—a grand figure vanishing on the horizon, never to be seen again. Scully crossed her arms and shivered in the night breeze. The waves trembled weakly like a puddle on the street, starlit and welcoming. Not at all the roaring storm they had tempted when they danced to the organ of Davy Jones.
“Look at that horizon,” Stella murmured, resting her elbows on the ship’s rail. She cocked her head, meeting Scully’s eyes matter-of-factly.
“It’s easy to love the horizon,” said Scully. “You know it’ll never leave you.”
“Ah,” said Stella with a crooked half-smile, “but neither will you catch it.”
Scully wrapped her hand around Stella’s shirt-wrapped waist. “That’s what makes it easy. You don’t have to live with the hope of catching up to it. Because once you’ve got the sunset in your hands, dim and warm and copper-red, you have to open your fingers before it burns you and hope it doesn’t disappear forever. You have to be afraid.”
Stella’s blue eyes were foggy in the dark as she took Scully’s hand and raised it to her lips. “Good night.”
                                                          *  *  *
Scully woke to the slosh of uneven waves and the high-pitched scream of gulls overhead. It took her a moment—head cocked, eyes bleary with sleep and confusion, before she remembered what birds sounded like.
Tortuga, she sounded the word on her lips. The land of scavengers, men and shorebirds alike. Land —that was the word she was looking for. In an instant, she shook herself awake.
“Shore on starboard!” Stella shouted from the quarterdeck, muffled through the ceiling. “Raise a full canvas until I can see the Claudius with my naked eye.”
The ship creaked and swayed beneath her, and when she tried to stand her knees wobbled dangerously. She picked her scabbard off the floor and belted it around the waist. She tied a grey scarf round her neck to keep the sun off and fetched her hat from the foot of the bed, just as Stella’s boots clumped roughly down the stairs. Stella burst into the captain’s cabin, her sword flashing in a stray sunbeam.
“We made it,” said Stella, and Scully couldn’t help but notice the tremor in her voice.
“Any sign of the Claudius?”
Stella shook her head. “The islands have only just come into view.”
“How will they know which island?” At first Scully had pictured Stella’s heart buried on a barren strip of sand surrounded by a grove of dying palms. Then, she had imagined a lush paradise, fed by a river and a cliff of glittering waterfalls. She had conjured yet unknown species of flora and fauna, fish the color of fresh fruit and whistling birds on every branch. What she truly expected of the eternal resting place of Stella’s beating heart, Scully could not say. But if there were several islands, could Stella even remember herself which she had set foot on?
“Simple,” Stella answered as Scully followed her on deck. “Davy Jones buries her heart in the Hall of the Moerae, just as Padgett buried it there before. The trees grow from rivers of sand and spring-water, and their roots spin together like cages of thread. No ship can navigate the maze; the island must be navigated on foot, and it is a barren landscape with little but cacti, dry grasses and white rock. There is nowhere for a thief to hide.”
“So your heart guards itself?”
Stella sighed. “One could say that. If only Spector didn’t have the damned knife and a prisoner who knows too many old wives’ tales.”
Hesitantly, Scully touched the pirate’s weathered cheek, but her hand drifted downward, past the distinct bullet hole on her collarbone, to the pale scar on her chest. “I’ll go ashore.”
Stella narrowed her eyes. “Are you absolutely certain?”
“Mulder’s the only person alive who can lead him to the island. He’s a scholar; he has dedicated his life to studying the legends that inhabit these waters. He’ll be needed on shore if Spector ever wants to find your heart.”
“Fair enough.” Stella nodded thoughtfully and lifted her spyglass to her eye. “We’re approaching the largest island. The main inlet leads to the Hall of the Moerae.”
Scully took the spyglass and peered into it. The shore was a thin strip of black sand; behind it volcanic rock and a veritable wall of undergrowth. She searched the glass until she spotted Stella’s channel: the mouth of a river, choked with towering trees, roots that stretched like spider legs over the water. She shifted the spyglass further. Waves crashed against spires of rock; the water roiled and burst against itself.
“If he touches Mulder,” she growled, “or if he dares to touch your heart, we will be his worst fucking nightmare.”
Stella arched an eyebrow. “It’s not about my heart, Miss Scully.”
“What do you mean?” Scully lowered the spyglass, fixing Stella with a skeptical stare.
“I’ve been searching for Spector ever since he escaped the Ophelia ten years ago, but I would be hunting him even if he’d never touched that dagger. It’s about the ship he defiled and the crimes he committed against a young woman aboard. I was Captain of the Ophelia, and it is my duty to avenge the young woman raped and murdered on that ship. Now, I am Captain of the Flying Dutchman, and it is my duty to send Paul Spector to Davy Jones’ Locker.”
It was the first time Scully had heard such venom in her voice. It was cold and dry; it haunted like a blustering wind against through cracked rock. “Would you still chase him, if not for the Dutchman?” She knows the answer, but she does not trust her understanding of Stella Gibson.
“It is my duty as a captain, a pirate, and a woman. Pirates are lawless because the laws have failed us. Make no mistake—a pirate’s life is not the moral high ground. We pillage, raid, duel, plunder unattainable treasures and bring upon ourselves terrible curses. But there is a catch to our lawlessness, written in the Pirate’s Code—the lawless must seek justice for each other.”
Scully thought of Mulder, rotting in the Claudius’s dungeon—or worse, marching hand-cuffed beneath the blazing sun with a pistol pressed to his neck. as he searched for Davy Jones’ heart to save his own life. The only people who know how to find pirates are better pirates, Skinner had told her. She hoped that when she boarded the Claudius she would be a better pirate than Spector.
In the noonday light, the archipelago seemed to move toward them, splitting the waves it rode. In actuality the Dutchman drifted closer to its beating heart, thumping reliably to a breezy ocean. Scully had grown accustomed to its unique rock, and she was not looking forward to boarding another ship. Her father had always told her no two ships were alike, and she couldn’t imagine losing her sea legs now.
“The Claudius is likely anchored behind those cliffs.” Stella pointed to an inlet hidden behind jagged cliff bands and talons of rock that jutted upwards from the sea.
“Can we take her by surprise?”
“The Dutchman cannot sink in such shallow waters, and regardless, you can’t sail with your head beneath the waves.”
Scully huffed, screwing her eyes shut. “My sense of self-preservation wants to blow Spector out of the water, but what if Mulder is aboard? How do we know whether Spector has taken him ashore?”
Stella raised the spyglass once more. “We don’t.”
“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Scully rolled her eyes. She was distinctly aware of her nervous ticks—swiping her tongue over her already dry lips, a foot tapping the deck, arms crossed tightly over her chest—all of which intensified as they approached the islands. Her fingers drifted to the hilt of her pistol, nestled in a hip holster. Could she trust herself to take the shot? Could she trust herself not to?
They skirted the pale cliff-bands, and Scully had to crane her neck to see the top. A horde of sea-birds circled overhead, emerging from the higher crevices. Waves crashed and gurgled at the base of the rock, leaving a blue-green tint in its furrows and cracks. The rock face looked like cold butter, as if she could squeeze it and leave an indent for centuries to come.
As the Dutchman rounded a corner and floated into the big island's Eastern bay, Scully spied another ship anchored near the river mouth. Its blood red sails were tied up, and its flag lowered. It was a stout ship, thick and short and less than streamlined. Its boards were mismatched, replaced at different times as if to patch up the holes made by cannons. A well-armed ship, its port flank had two rows of eight cannons.
Scully pursed her lips. “Is that the Claudius?”
“It is.” Stella lowered her spyglass. “The crew does not seem to be aboard.”
“What about a prisoner?” Scully demanded, reaching for the spyglass.
Stella snorted. “If I could see through the walls of the brig, I would tell you.”
Scully finally wrestled the spyglass from Stella’s fingers and raised it to her eye. “I don’t see any rowboats.” Squinting, she turned to the shoreline. “Those, however, look very much like rowboats.”
“Where are they?”
“Lined up next to the inlet.”
“Hall of the Moerae,” Stella murmured grimly. “They will force their way through the swamp.” Her voice hardened again. “Look for a moving figure.”
Scully scanned the shoreline; she focused for a few seconds on the inlet—its waters looked a frightening deep green, and its entrance was obscured by a tangle of roots that seemed to ward off trsspassers. She looked to the tree line on either side of the estuary—thick, white-trunked palms with bundles of coconuts so big she could spot them from where she stood. A flash of movement crossed her vision, and she froze. Several figures marched along the tree line, clumped in groups of two and three. While their faces were a blur, and their clothing nondescript, she could only just make out a man at the back, who plodded and stumbled forward as if dragged.
As if he were wearing handcuffs, Scully realized, and the blood drained from her cheeks. “I see them!” she shouted, and Stella winced beside her, cupping her ear. “Beside the river. I see Mulder.”
It was the first glimpse she’d had of Mulder—hopefully the man was Mulder—in months. She had a hard time counting the weeks since she had left Port Washington, and every day she woke wondering if the man she’d left her life to rescue was even alive. She stiffened momentarily, remembering that she would have to go ashore. Recently every horizon, every gunshot, every encounter with a kraken or a schmoozing privateer, had been hers and Stella’s to face. As soon as she set foot on dry land, the battles became hers alone. If she was captured, Stella could do nothing while her feet touched the shore. If she died, Stella would never know.
“We’re close enough to row in. Are you ready?” Stella placed a chilly hand on her shoulder, but her voice had a far-away ring. She felt a gentle shake.
“Yes?” She put down the scope and met Stella’s eyes.
“Are you prepared to go to shore?”
Scully felt her pistol; she hefted it in her hand to be sure it was full before tucking it away. She touched her sword in its scabbard and jostled the buckle of her belt and holster to reassure herself it was secure. “Yes.”
Stella furrowed her brow. Scully pushed back her shoulders, lifted her chin, and nodded decisively. Stella let her go.
“Ready a rowboat!” Stella marched down the staircase onto the main deck as the canvas flew off a rowboat and landed in a heap at her feet. The boat flipped over and dropped into the water. A knotted rope tossed itself over the rail behind it. “Raise the sails, drop anchor as soon as possible. I don’t want to be too close to the Claudius.”
Scully’s boots clicked as she followed Stella down the stairs. She sat on the railing, clinging to the offered rope, and swung her legs over. As she lowered her weight onto the rope, she threw a final glance over her shoulder. Above her, a soft, winged silhouette perched on the mast, that Scully realized was the owl she had met in Los Barriles. It had been scarce recently, but now it sat motionless next to the Jolly Rodger, solemnly watching its captain. Stella leaned against the mast, her eyes narrowed at some speck on the horizon. Her purple kerchief and sun-bleached hair fluttered in the breeze. It had
“Thank you,” Scully said.
Slowly, Stella turned her head. “All the best to you, Miss Scully. If everything goes to Hell, I’ll blow Spector’s ship to smithereens.”
Scully smiled. She let go of the rope and dropped into the rowboat with a clunk. The bucket scooped a pale full of water. Creaking in their grips, the oars pulled her forward. The Dutchman shrank; where one moment Stella stood with her back to the land, the next she disappeared, as if she’d never been more than a ghost to begin with.
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