#I mean I know exactly why I never DESIGNED one; he's a one-shot character tattoos would have been low priority for prepping him to play | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ressyfaerie · 3 years

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Request: I saw this tattoo programme where 2 lesbian friends went on and they got to pick the other's tattoo and they can't look till it's done. One picked "you mean everything" for the friend and she was so worried about her seeing in case she hated it. Then hers (from her friend) was "I love you". This had them all emotional and got them both to confess & get together. Anywaaaay, a similar idea for Tyka?

Sorry for the late response! I’m working again and still recovering! This is the LAST FIC REQUEST of this askbox being open!

Soooo likkee. Once upon a time I talked to someone about a tattoo shop AU? This gave me some serious inspiration sooooooo here we gooooo

Halfway through I remembered! I (mentally?) based a lot of this idea on @ishkajules tattoo tyka shop AU!

Oh, disclaimer, I want a tattoo but know NOTHING about them aaaahhhahaha

“You’re a great artist, but you’re scaring away your clients.”

“Why do you care, Tala?”

“I don’t. They come to me after you reject them, or make them so uncomfortable they sit in the next chair over.”

“So then, why are you telling me this?”

Kai cleaned his equipment. It was nearing the end of the day, he figured he wouldn’t have any more walk-in customers.

“I just thought I’d let you know. You’re losing us money. If you don’t fix it, I’ll change your pay to commission only.”

Kai scowled. Who did he think he was? Threatening his pay like that?

“Like I said. You’re a phenomenal artist. But you're lucky I hired you. No one else will with your personality.”

Kai gave him a glare, “I’ll try to do better, boss.”

“Good. Keep that mouth in check.” Tala gave him a ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

As soon as he turned away Kai rolled his eyes.

The bell in the shop rang.

“Hello! Welcome, how can we help you?” Tala welcomed the new customer with his regular fake friendly greeting.

“Hey... I’m Tyson.”

The kid seemed nervous. He didn’t have any art on his body.

Blank canvas.

“Um. Is Kai here?”

“Kai? Are you looking for him specifically?”

“Yeah! I follow his stuff on instagram and I really want my first tattoo to be done by him!”

The boy’s face brightened the whole shop. Kai’s lip curled.

“Of course! Let me get him for you!”

Tala made his way to Kai in the corner, he got up in his face.

“Listen, this kid’s a newbie—”

Kai rolled his eyes, “you know I don’t ink tattoo virgins—”

“Think of it as a blank canvas. As artists we all like a good canvas, look at him! He’s perfect!”

Kai took a look at this Tyson character. He hated to admit Tala was right. He was a good blank canvas. But Kai hated working with newbie clients; always so nervous, worried about the pain. He would just rather work with a regular.

Tala got angrier, “you will tattoo him. You’ll do exactly what he wants, and above all, you will be nice.”

“Or else what?”

Tala shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “or else you’re fired.”

Kai didn’t want to admit that Tala's threat got to him. He sighed, played off as if he was slightly annoyed but obedient, “fine.”

“Good. Now go do your job.” Tala pointed to the front desk where the new client was waiting.

Kai shot Tala a glare, as he made his way to the desk. He put on his biggest fakest smile.

“Hey, I’m Kai.”

Tyson held a backpack around his shoulder, he grasped it firmly, while giving Kai the widest grin.

“I’ve been following you for a long time! I um… decided when I had enough money I wanted my first tattoo to be done by you…”

Awkward silence.

“Uh, what do you have in mind?” Kai learned how much it hurt when you kept smiling.

“I know you specialize in birds… I would love to have a red phoenix. Eventually I want a dragon. But I’d love to start with your strongest area!”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Tyson watched Kai like he was a celebrity. He had a popular art account, but that was about it. Kai just stared back at him.

“Um... I think I want it on my back…” Tyson trailed off as he grew more nervous.

“That’s a good choice. Do any designs come to mind?”

Tyson bit his lip, he looked up to the ceiling in thought, “oh!” He pulled out his phone.

He passed it to Kai showing him an old post of his. It wasn’t his best work, but he understood why he liked it.

“I can do that design easily.” Kai wondered why he was so worried—”

“I just… Don’t want it exactly like this.”

Ah right. Newbies.

“So what do you have in mind then?” Kai’s eyebrow twitched.

“I um.” Tyson rubbed the back of his head as his cheeks turned a bit red.

Kai sighed, “kid, I can’t work on you if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tala called to Kai, “Hey Kai! Don’t forget about your happy little tattoo gun over here!”

Kai reluctantly put on his big smile, “yeah boss, I haven't forgotten!”

He turned back to Tyson. “So what are your ideas?”

Tyson bit his lip.

“Do you have a reference I can make a design off of? Anything?”

“I… do.”

“Then show it to me.”

Tyson exhaled, then slid his backpack off his shoulder. He opened it and pulled out a sketchbook. He had it turned away from Kai making sure he wouldn’t see. He flipped through a few pages, and turned it towards Kai.

Kai grabbed it, and placed it down on the counter. He saw the sketch of the phoenix that was clearly an imitation of his style… with a twist.

Kai found himself impressed. It was a good design.

“I’ve worked on this for a few months… I’m pretty confident this is what I want… What do you think of it?”

Kai was trying to be extra nice, but he couldn't deny it was good. “It’s well done.”

“Thanks!” Tyson grinned.

The more Kai inspected the drawing the more detailed it became, it gave him new inspiration, a kind he never had before.

“Do you..” Kai cleared his throat and prodded the page with his finger. “Do you want this exact design or a design done by me?”

Tyson looked ecstatic, “would you be willing to make me an original design!?”

Kai thought for a moment. His original designs were usually reserved for regulars or people willing to drop more cash. But something about this design called to him…

He convinced himself he was inspired by his jealousy. He couldn't let this poor imitation see the world.

“I can make you a design based on this one.”

“Really!? Wow, thanks!”

“Can I borrow this sketch book?” Kai asked, while flipping the book closed.

“Um…”

“I need the design.”

“Could you take a picture?”

“I’d prefer to work with the original.” Kai’s lips hurt from smiling.

“Okay… You can borrow it.” It seemed Tyson was an extremely shy guy. “Be careful with it, okay?”

“I will.”

Kai stayed late in the shop. He worked in the studio.

“I’m locking up. Kai, I’m surprised you're still here?” Tala twirled the keys around his finger.

Kai was hunched over the small desk. He had already drawn out a few sketches. Tala inspected his work over his shoulder.

“Can you not?” Kai spat back.

“It’s a good design. I’m surprised you're putting so much effort into this kid's request. It’s not like you.”

Kai shrugged.

“He’s not loaded, you know? You’re not going to make up for it in tips.”

“I know.”

Tala felt a strange proud emotion emerge. “Alright,” he dropped the keys on the desk. “You can lock up. Have fun with your drawings.”

Kai watched the keys as they fell in front of him. He heard the door open, and close.

He sighed, then scrunched up the paper he was working with into a ball, and tossed it into the bin with the rest of the failed projects.

The sketchbook laid in front of him. He wanted to take a look at the design again. But he had lost the bookmark.

Shit.

He had to look through the book to find the right page.

There better not be anything dirty in here…

He opened it to another design.

Oh, wow.

It was a dragon, scribbled with faint watercolour. Kai grew curious, what other masterpieces did this book hold?

He began to flip through, curiously studying each design.

There were tons of dragons. Kai was interested, as he had always wanted a dragon tattoo, but he hadn’t yet met an artist who could ink scales the way he wanted.

These designs were so close to what he wanted, until—

He turned to a page with a very detailed dragon design. It took up the whole page. The colours were perfect, mixes of blues and silver. He was immediately captivated by it. His mouth hung open slightly.

It had been a long time since an art piece caught his attention.

He ran his finger down the page, careful not to smudge the drawing.

“Wow.”

Two days later Tyson came back to the shop, eagerly awaiting his tattoo.

Tala gestures to Kai from across the shop, pointing to the front desk where Tyson had just entered. He mouthed the words ‘be nice!’. Kai looked to the ceiling to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Kai got up from his station. The night before he had pulled an all-nighter. Until finally—he came out with the perfect piece. He knew Tyson would love it. He was upset with himself for putting so much thought into it, after all, he was just a newbie.

Kai tossed a black file folder on the desk.

Tyson jumped a bit, then settled back in with his backpack on his shoulder, “good morning, Kai!”

Kai put on a smile, “good morning.”

Tyson tilted his head, it was kind of cute, “did you manage to come up with anything? I know it hasn’t been long—”

“I did, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Kai opened the folder and revealed a paper, he placed it on the desk and flipped it around to show the blue-haired boy.

“Woah! Holy shit that’s so cool!” Tyson placed both his hands on the corners, admired it with an open mouth.

“Is it what you wanted?” Kai accidentally let his smile drop as he awaited the response.

“It’s perfect!” Tyson was so happy you could see his dimples.

It made Kai perform… maybe… a real smile.

“I have a test here, do you want to see what it would look like?”

“Can I? Oh man that’s so fucking cool…”

Kai gestured behind the desk, Tyson happily pushed himself through the gate. Kai pointed to his station “that’s my chair, put your stuff anywhere out of my way. Take your shirt off.”

Tyson suddenly stopped smiling and froze, Kai almost ran into him.

“Hey!” Kai started to lose his temper, but saw Tala’s red hair in the corner of his eye, he took a deep breath. “You said you wanted it on your back didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Tyson answered back nervously.

Kai dropped the folder on his desk near the chair, “then take off your shirt and lay on your stomach.”

Tyson swallowed a hard lump in his throat.

Kai just stared at him.

Newbies. It’s just some skin. So annoying.

Tyson let his bag slide to the floor, he kicked it to the corner of the room, then he folded his arms.

Kai turned around, ready to place the stencil, then he frowned, “why do you still have your shirt on?”

Tyson went to say something, but stopped.

Kai sighed, “it’s just bare skin. I’ve worked on way more intimate body parts. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tyson shrugged, he acted confident but Kai could tell he was nervous. He grasped the ends of his shirt and rolled it over his head, throwing it on top of his bag.

“Now lay down.” Kai gestured to the chair that was horizontal from the last client.

Tyon nodded, and laid down in front of Kai, “is it going to hurt!?”

Kai closed his eyes for a moment, it took everything in him to not retort with sass, “it’s just a sticker, so we can determine the placement. It won’t hurt.”

Tyson nodded.

Kai flicked his arm, “you need to have your arms near your sides… like this.”

Kai had grabbed his closest arm and manipulated it like a rag doll, Tyson hid his face, hoping his idol didn’t see him blush.

“Okay, I’m applying it now.”

Kai expertly placed the test paper exactly where Tyson had described he wanted it. Along his right shoulder. Tyson barely moved, but Kai wasn’t sure how he would react when the actual inking started.

“Done. Take a look in the mirror.”

Tyson jumped up, nearly running to the full length mirror in the shop, twirling his body so he could see it better.

“Wow! It’s so cool!” His voice rang through the whole shop, even Tala’s client looked up from his chair.

“Thank you, Kai!”

“No problem.” Kai sat down in his chair, he picked up his tattoo gun and started to tinker with it, he looked at Tyson. “So are you ready?”

Tyson’s eyes grew wide, “r—right now!?”

Kai gave him a genuine grin, “no better time than the present.”

Tyson made his way back to Kai’s station. He looked down at the chair, “is it going to take a while?”

Kai nodded, “I’ll do the outline today. Then you can come back tomorrow and we will ink as much as we can.”

Tyson sat on the chair, still too nervous to lay down.

“Hey kid!”

Tyson looked around the shop for the echoing voice.

It came from the client on Tala’s chair. He was covered in different tattoos, “don’t be worried! But remember it's addicting! Once you get one you can’t stop!”

Tyson laughed, “thanks man!”

The man gave Tyson a thumbs up, Tala smirked in Kai’s direction.

He must enjoy torturing me… asshole.

Tyson gave Kai a huge smile, “I’m ready!”

“Good.” Kai had reached over to his station, he placed a pair of glasses on his face.

“You wear glasses!?” Tyson was intrigued.

“Yeah? Why is that surprising?” Kai wondered why Tyson cared so much, they just met after all.

Tyson mumbled, “you just… never shared anything on your instagram I guess…”

“There’s more to me than my online persona. Get on your stomach.”

Tyson instantly obeyed. He curled in his fists.

Kai made the necessary procedures, he wiped his back with a sterile wipe, Tyson shivered.

Kai had to bite his tongue from sighing.

“Sorry… it was cold.” Tyson muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Kai tried to reassure him but realized he had never really reassured anyone before.

Kai prepared the gun, Tyson turned his head to him, “how much… is it going to hurt?”

God damn it. Why do they always ask...

“Not as much as you’re going to love it.”

Kai impressed himself with his response.

Tyson nodded, and turned his head away from Kai.

“Alright, I’m starting.”

Kai had done it a million times before, but it was Tyson’s first. When the gun first ran along his skin he tensed up, he made a quiet high pitched noise. Kai kept going.

He kept tensing up, too much, it would ruin the work, and Kai’s concentration. Kai stopped for a moment, “you have to untense. It hurts now but it’ll go numb soon, then it won’t be so bad.”

Kai just saw the back of Tyson’s head as he nodded.

Kai grasped his shoulder, “good, now untense.”

Tyson tried to loosen up, but his muscles were still tight.

“Breathe.”

Kai wasn’t sure what to do, but he still had his hand on his shoulder, he gave Tyson a gentle rub with the edge of his thumb.

He heard Tyson exhale, and his whole body relaxed.

“Good job.” Kai readjusted his glasses, and continued. He was leaning over Tyson’s body.

Tyson was aware just how close his idol was, he could feel his breathing as he worked. His face turned red. Over the next hour he grew used to it. He was loving the closeness. He was excited to see what it looked like done.

Tala was surprised, usually Kai put his earbuds in and avoided talking to clients. But this time, Kai kept glancing at Tyson’s hair, as if he wanted to say something, but was stalling. At just over the hour mark, Kai made his move.

“I have to admit. I looked through your sketchbook.”

Tyson jumped, “what?”

“Don’t move—”

“Sorry, but why did you do that?”

“I lost the page the design was on. Then I just kept looking.”

Tyson went silent, clearly he was upset.

Kai stopped for a second, “they’re really good.” he immediately started again.

Tyson went stone cold.

Kai continued, “your dragons are insanely intricate. I’ve never seen scale work like yours. Are they all original?”

Tyson hesitated, “yes…”

“I’m quite fond of the silver-blue dragon, the one near the end.”

“I know which one you’re talking about. It’s one of my favourites too.”

“Mhm.” Kai trailed off, still not ready to ask the question he wanted to.

A few hours later, Kai stopped, “I think that’s good for today.”

Kai put his equipment down, and laid his glasses back on his desk.

Tyson went to get up, “ow…”

“Sore?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in this position too long…”

Tyson slowly rose to a sitting position. Kai admired his shoulder.

It’s great work. I did well.

“I want to see it!” Tyson jumped to his feet making his way to the mirror. He looked in the mirror and gasped in awe.

Tala had approached, he observed the design and raised an eyebrow, “it’s really good, Kai.”

Kai crossed his arms, “come back tomorrow. I’ll colour it. But it will be a bit of work.”

Tala agreed, “it might be best to split the coloring into two appointments. Since it’s his first… How was it, Tyson?”

Tyson was still admiring his tattoo, “the pain? It was fine once I got used to it, Kai really helped.”

“Really!?” Tala looked at Kai in disbelief.

Kai shot him a glare.

Tyson put his shirt back on while Tala described how to take care of it. They made their way to the front desk and finished off some paperwork.

Tala had gone back to his desk, still within earshot.

“Thanks so much. Kai! It’s going to be awesome!” Tyson grinned, “but um… can I have my sketchbook back?”

Kai nodded, then went back to his station, and came back with the book, he slid it across the table, but held on to it when Tyson tried to take it.

Kai didn’t let go of the book, he looked into Tyson’s eyes, with his first genuine expression, “I have a question. About your design.”

“Huh?” Tyson looked up to Kai. He was positive there was nothing he could ask that he wouldn’t know himself.

“I want to buy it.”

“What?” Tyson’s voice rang with disbelief.

“Well, I don’t want to buy the rights. Just the design, so I can have it tattooed.”

“You want my design!?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

Tala’s ear twitched, the situation tickled his interest, and he made his way back to the counter.

“I uh—um.” Tyson was lost for words.

“How much?” Kai badgered him.

Tala intervened, “Kai leave the poor kid alone, let him think on it.”

Kai looked at Tyson, Tyson stared back.

Tyson let go of the book, “keep the book till tomorrow… I’ll think about what you said…”

Tyson backed up towards the door, “b—bye! See you tomorrow!”

He had left the shop faster than either of them could say bye.

Kai still held the sketchbook, he looked down at it. Tala was immediately furious.

“Kai Hiwatari, what the hell!? Are you an ass or head over heels? You’re going to bully some rookie artist into stealing his design? What is wrong with you—”

Kai had opened the book to his favourite page. Tala’s voice changed right away.

“Shit.”

Kai held the open book close to his chest, “I know. It’s well done.”

“You’re not kidding, here let me see—”

Kai handed him the book. Tala admired the drawing for a long time. Before flipping through the book. He let out a long high pitched whistle.

“Could you do it?” Kai asked.

“Do what?”

“Could you tattoo this for me? I want it on my right shoulder—”

Tala laughed, “no. My specialty lies in fangs and fur. I’ve never done a dragon, plus these scales… this could only be done by the original artist.”

Tala looked up from the book, “if you love this design, it has to be done by the original artist. Does he know how to use a gun?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ah, shame.”

“How come?”

Tala went back to flipping through pages, “because I'd hire him on the spot.”

Kai was dumbfounded, “for real?”

“Absolutely.”

Dude I have so many more ideas for this AU it’s INSANE. AAAH but this is all I have time for now <3 if there’s a demand for more I might write more!

#sorry for accidently stealing ideas #it was just so good #if i continue it ill ask for permission i promise lol #tyka #ressyfaerie #ressyfaerie fic #au #tattoo

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themurphyzone · 4 years

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PatB: Snowball Ep Talk

You know, I really do love the episode Snowball (my personal favorite AKOM episode) but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it here much, and if I did it’s probably really only because of the flashback sequence.

Okay so all looks good so far. Chain letter scheme and superstition, a standard introduction to Brain’s latest plot of world domination. All looks good. Plus I just like this shot of Pinky. Don’t mind me, just starting off light here with a smushed Pinky.

I just like Pinky’s pose here. He’s so cute.

You will bow before Troz.

“I met a Snowball today! Right here in the lab!” -Pinky

You know, I just find the implications of this line hysterical. This means that Snowball was in the lab that day, waiting for the moment to strike, and he definitely pushed his stolen chain letter through the mail slot.

And then he lets Pinky see him, and no it’s not just a passing glance either cause Pinky specifically describes a tattoo with an A and a circle and points to his leg. Which means Snowball deliberately lifted the fur on his leg and showed his tattoo to Pinky.

Like, wow.

“It means, Pinky, that evil lurks among us. By the name of Snowball! SNOWBALLLLLLLL!” -Brain

Talk about a bad breakup. *Alexa play Bad Blood*

Personally I think one of the interesting visual cues is that Snowball purposely plants himself into the mice’s space. There’s a lot of that in this episode. He knows how to rile up Brain and hit him where it hurts, namely through Pinky.

Brain values his personal space, and he values a sense of control. When Snowball invades that space, Brain loses control, and his anger can lead him to make some very ill-informed decisions. Which is exactly what Snowball aims for.

“You think Pinky is an asset?”

“Anything I can take from you is an asset.”

Ah yes, Snowball’s mission statement. Crush everything Brain has into dust.

The flashback sequence. Dear God this flashback sequence. They were both so cute!

You know, it’s really sad that a younger Brain acted more like Pinky. Making silly faces and trying to get someone to laugh are such Pinky things to do. I know canon is loose but if you consider this flashback taking place shortly after Brain was captured from the wild, then young Brain didn’t gain a grasp on what happened to him until after the gene splicer.

Ok but Brain was literally right there when the gene splicer exploded. Imagine having your cranium size dramatically increase, you’re injured, you’ve suddenly gained sentience, and as if all that wasn’t enough, you see the gene splicer explode with your only friend inside.

Oh, and said friend’s mind was probably damaged in the explosion and now he hates your guts. And though you’re angry with him for his betrayal, some part of you will never stop caring about him.

Once again, Snowball needs to learn to keep his hands to himself.

This conversation here establishes Snowball as the perfect third character. He appears only in a handful of eps, but he’s fun to watch and love to hate. Snowball challenges the mice’s relationship. Snowball sees the weak points; the insults, the reliance on each other, and twists them to his advantage. And Pinky even admits he’s hurt by Brain’s insults occasionally, though he still loves being around him.

“Pinky, the Brain doesn’t care about you. He’s just using you.”

“No, he’s not.”

It’s really interesting to me how Pinky denies Snowball’s statement, yet his ears go down to show that he’s affected by the idea of being used. Pinky and the Brain may be night and day, but one thing they do have in common is their tendency to deny certain things. Brain with emotions and affection and Pinky with concepts he’d rather not admit the possibility of.

Coming back to this later.

Non plot related but Brain is teeny tiny and I love how he just trusts Pinky to catch him

Side note: I apologize if any of these screenshots look weird. It’s an AKOM ep.

WHY ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT SNEAKING AROUND.

I just find it hilarious how they clearly run around where Snowball can see and hear them. Like they just shout Snowball’s name in the middle of the room. You’re terrible at being sneaky little mice. Please.

Those dang boomers and their old timey 90s computers. Technology is ruining boomers. Can’t even hold a conversation anymore cause they keep looking at their screens.

No touchy!

Well, it’s awful nice of Snowball to engage in nepotism and offer Brain a position in his administration...and then tempt Pinky with an amusement park when he refuses.

You really gotta appreciate the complexity of Snowball’s plans. Stealing the chain letter fails->plant seeds of doubt in Pinky’s mind, even if this doesn’t work right off the bat, the idea will still be there-> take over a corporation->impersonate Bill Gates->When the mice show up, offer to co-rule the world on expectations that Brain will refuse->make co-ruler offer to Pinky->wait for Brain to open his big mouth and drive Pinky away.

All to take everything Brain has. His dignity, Pinky, his meager resources. Like holy Snowball, Batman.

And then Snowball reveals the amusement park he had specifically built for Pinky.

And here we have the most heartbreaking line of the ep. If I had the ability video edit I would’ve put the entire line on audio because Brain’s tone is very important here. It’s about 12:38 to 12:57 in the ep if you want to see for yourself.

“Oh, go ahead, Pinky. I don’t need you. What did you think, I just have you around so I can steal your brilliant ideas and claim them as my own? That I’m just using you, Pinky? Oh yes, I’m using you for your brilliance!”

First of all, very poor word choice, especially to someone who has trouble understanding sarcasm. I just want to dissect this statement here.

The Literal Meaning: You’re an idiot to think you were ever more than an assistant.

This is what Pinky hears.

But if you listen to Brain’s tone rather than just reading the line, he sounds genuinely hurt that Pinky would ever be tempted by something as frivolous as an amusement park. It’s Pinky, so he just sees ‘ooh fun rides, cotton candy, and carnival games’!

But Brain is perfectly aware that this is Snowball’s well-crafted method of taking away the only thing he truly has, and he knows it’s working. And he’s hurt.

The Actual Meaning: Snowball’s trying to separate us and you’re falling for it, Pinky. You may be an idiot, but many of my plans never would’ve come to fruition without you. You’re much more than an assistant. You’re my friend and my world.

Unfortunately, all Pinky hears is that Brain was only using him. That Brain values him for manual labor and an extra hand only, rather than a treasured companion. The fact that Brain often falls short of making Pinky feel appreciated just adds to this.

And now that he no longer has Pinky, Brain’s spirit is crushed. Brain is persistent, but without Pinky, he has no reason to be.

As far as he knows, his only two friends have turned their backs on him and couldn’t care less if he has nowhere else to go.

Poor thing. He needs hugs.

“I didn’t think it was possible. Humanity has actually gotten dumber.” -Brain

OK I think this one shot establishes what the world would be like under Snowball. His name is everywhere, and he tells the population to do stupid things just to bask in his own superiority.

However, I can’t see Brain putting his name on every building so frivolously like this if he ruled the world. Sure, he’d name a bunch of things after himself and Pinky, but it would be more meaningful to them.

Brain wants humanity to advance, not regress.

Poor Pinky. Despite all this new extravagance and luxury, he’s also lonely. The room and bed are large, but it lacks personality. He’s sleeping with an ACME Labs snow globe, and other than a reference to Citizen Kane, it also shows that he’s not happy with this.

The worst thing in the world for these mice is separation from each other.

Suicide by cat.

Poor little guy can’t make it on his own. Luckily, he snaps out of it.

“My world. I must save MY world!”

Said while looking at a picture of Pinky. Real subtle there Brain.

“Look, you fool. You have no brilliant ideas. I’m only using you to get at him! So just stay quiet!” -Snowball

“You’re...using me?” -Pinky

He was just a bargaining chip. Never a friend.

“What do you want?”

“My friend. And MY world!”

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

He makes martial arts noises like a dork. I love him.

I love how their characters are reflected in the mecha designs (also I had no idea Snowball was Iron Man!)

Snowball’s is overall the more efficient design. It’s also much more combat ready and violent. In comparison, Brain’s suit is simply operated with a bunch of levers. It’s alright for peaceful situations like getting around faster or simply blending with a human population, but in a straight up fight the levers take too much time to operate.

Snowball is more efficient than Brain, and while he’s got the ego, he lacks the insecurities that hold Brain back. His confidence makes him such an effective foe. And more importantly, Snowball doesn’t value Pinky’s companionship. He’s a tool and nothing more. Compare that to Brain. While Brain struggles at showing it, he ultimately wants Pinky’s input and values his jumbo-sized heart.

Somewhat off topic, but I feel like the reboot missed this aspect of Brain and made him too overly edgy and violent (reboot!Brain would probably prefer Snowball’s mecha design over his counterpart’s). The only time Brain should become violent, if not for comedy, is when he’s protecting Pinky. His plans should have a level of restraint to them, and Pinky is the moral compass.

I just like this shit-eating grin right here (I mean, he did eat shit in Welcome to the Jungle so...lol)

This is such an insanely clever move for Pinky. I feel like Brain would be like ‘oh my god Pinky!’ and then ‘wow, that’s actually brilliant what the heck is this tingling feeling’.

ACME LABS IS IN NEW YORK CITY??????

I know this is a case of Where the Hell is Springfield but gdi aren’t they supposed to be in southern California.

Ok fine I realize the ending to this ep is a reference to North by Northwest cause they somehow got to Mt. Rushmore but still

Weird tangent but North by Northwest’s ending bothers me (not gonna fault this ep as it’s just a parody)? I’m sorry the girl is barely hanging onto Mt. Rushmore, the dude pulls her up, and then they have sex in a car. The sudden transition always seemed weird to me.

I am ending this analysis post with a weird shot of Snowball cause i can and it’s his episode.

#pinky and the brain #patb analysis #patb snowball #long post

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 years

Text

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 2

Starring: Crosshair, Original Character “Joan Vo,” probably the rest of the Bad Batch at some point

Summary: Crosshair doesn't exactly like medical personnel. In fact, he hates them. They're always poking and prodding, calling him skinny, telling him he's not good enough. But then he meets the new medical examiner, the smart and kind and oh-so-pretty Joan Vo. And suddenly, he's not only looking forward to his medical check-ups, but he's also starting to question whether he wants to go to war after all....

Rating & Warnings: T/PG-13. Eventual fluff. Light angst. Who knows what else will pop up, but I’ll leave warnings when needed.

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be tagged for this fic.

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 2: Doctor’s Orders

She wasn't the first human girl he'd ever seen.

But she sure was the prettiest.

There'd been some contractors and other hired help on the planet, especially in recent years as the demand on the warfront left few bodies to fill the more ancillary tasks. A few had been female. Each time one came in, there was endless chatter among the clones about them. Crosshair had never understood the fascination, nor had his brother Tech. They often wondered if that was just another one of their defects.

Now he got it.

She didn't wear the traditional medical garb, or even the sterile robes the Kaminoans usually gave visitors. Instead, she was in what looked like the clone's standard issue under-armor, "blacks." Slightly different material and stitching, but same concept. It stretched around her figure, highlighting both her obvious female-ness as well as some muscles. Her pinkish-blonde hair was pulled back from her face, which was young, but also weathered. She wasn't another posh politician or edgy mercenary. She was something else entirely.

But her arrival did nothing to help his nerves; in fact, he felt even worse now. This pretty girl would be the one inspecting him. Frowning at all his subpar test results. Reprimanding him for not eating or exercising enough. Judging him.

He watched her with wary eyes as she entered and gave him a small but endearing smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice a bit raspy, but calm. Soft. "I'm Joan."

She looked at him expectantly. He knew he should give his official designation, but he decided to say the name he'd given himself, in a rebellious attempt to show himself as human.

"Crosshair."

She held her smile, unperturbed by his lack of protocol. In fact, she seemed pleased by it.

"Crosshair," Joan repeated, sending a shiver through him. She had been holding a datapad, undoubtedly containing all the sad details of his medical history. He braced himself for the uncomfortable silence that would happen as she flicked through it. But instead she placed it on a table along the back wall and rolled out a chair to face him.

"Well, Crosshair, tell me about yourself."

He blinked a few times. "Um," he nodded to the back table. "My file should have everything about me."

"Everything?" she asked with an amused smirk. "Like your favorite color? What you think about before falling asleep?"

Her eyes narrowed at him, a challenge, but a playful one. He had no clue how to respond.

Before he could come up with something to say, her face relaxed and she pushed her chair back as she stood, returning to the back table. She grabbed a pad of paper and an exam scope. The datapad remained neglected.

"Crosshair..." she said his name again, causing him to fight to control another pleasant fluttering in his chest. "Does that mean you're really into guns?"

She came in front of him again, resting the primitive writing materials on the table beside his leg as she fiddled with the settings on the scope.

"I'm a sharpshooter," he said. That was something he had an answer for.

"Sharpshooter." She quickly scribbled the word down on the paper. "There's something about you. What else?"

He was silent again, back to being utterly confused. Why didn't she just look in his chart? Was this some sort of test?

A pale light came on the scope and she brought it up to his right eye. She didn't let him sit in confusion for long. "Have you thought about getting a tattoo yet? You could do something really cool with a reticule, or a target. Maybe a bullet?"

She moved the scope across his other eye. He tried to stay still for her, even though he really wanted to furrow his eyebrows at the random change in topic.

"I... haven't thought about it," he muttered.

She set the scope down and held up the pen, holding it slightly behind his head.

"Look straight ahead, let me know when you see it," she said, bringing it slowly forward. He grunted as soon as the pen entered his periphery; he couldn't say anything as Joan was already talking again.

"What do you think is the furthest distance you could make a shot from?" The pen was moved to the other side and the exercise repeated, though she didn't seem too interested in it. "Like an accurate one. A bullseye, dead on."

She sounded like the young clones they'd sometimes bring around to the training rooms on field trips. Wide eyes, reverent voices, in awe of the cadets they'd one day become themselves.

Crosshair allowed himself to frown as he answered her, quite frankly, silly question. "It's not just a matter of my ability, but the capacity of the rifle and range of the blast, as well as a whole list of environmental factors."

Joan brought the scope up to one of his ears, now, peering through it. He could feel her breath against his neck as she spoke. "Okay, so you have the best long-distance rifle in the entire galaxy. Perfect wind and lighting conditions. Nothing else in your way. How far?"

He thought about for a few seconds, and then confidently stated, "Thirty-five hundred meters. Easy."

She was looking in his other ear, but he could still see her smiling, impressed, out of the corner of his eye. It made his cheeks feel warm.

"What would be a hard shot to make, then?" she asked, coming back around to face him. She motioned to hold his hands out in front of him. As he thought about the new question, she instructed him to fold his thumbs inward and then curl his other fingers into a fist. Her own hands wrapped gently over his; they were cold but soft, and he almost lost track of his thoughts as he watched her guide his wrists to bend up and down.

"Any pain?" she asked, bringing him back. He shook his head.

"Well..." he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it'd have to be shooting blind. You can still get a lay of the land, use your other senses to aim. But if you can't see what you're shooting at...."

Joan hummed in acknowledgement, moving his palms to face upward, and tapping along his wrists. "Any pain?" And he shook his head again.

"I knew a sniper once," she said in a lower voice. "You know what he said were the hardest shots he ever had to make?"

She moved his hands into another formation, where his knuckles touched each other in the middle of his chest with elbows sticking out. He shook his head, answering both questions, the one she'd just asked, and the one he expected would come with this test.

"He said it's the ones you don't want to make." Her light-heartedness was gone and her face now looked old and tired. "He didn't explain further, but I knew he'd been on the Umbara mission."

Crosshair didn't need her to explain further, either. They'd been told about Umbara.

"I would've known," he couldn't help but say. It had been the first thing he thought of when they were debriefed on the tragic mission. He hadn't told anyone, knowing it wouldn't be taken well, but he still believed it. There was no way he wouldn't have been able to tell it was his brothers at the other end of his gun.

She regarded him with a cocked head, and for a moment, the judgement he'd feared receiving in this room flashed across her features. But then it was gone, and her usual squinted eyes and quirked lips fell back into place.

"And what if you hadn't?"

"I would have. I know I would have."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. You have to think about the what-if sometimes. Even if they're far-fetched. Just to know what your response would be. Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst."

He didn't know what to say to that.

But Joan didn't wait for him to respond, either. She picked up the pad of paper, which he just now noticed had a lot more scribbles on it. He hadn't realized she'd been taking notes the whole time.

She handed the pad to him.

"Your homework. Write down some things about yourself for next time, okay?"

She took a step back, as if to make room for him to get up and leave.

He frowned at her. "That's it?"

She smiled at him. "For today. I think you're next on the schedule for Thursday. Same time."

He looked between the paper and her. She laughed a little.

"Try starting with your favorite color," she said with a wink, and then turned to clean up the remaining things.

He slowly got off the bed and shuffled out into the hallway, holding the pad of paper like it was a strange object he'd never seen before. He wasn't really reading any of the things she'd put on there, just staring at it to give himself something to focus on. That visit was, by far, the most bizarre medical check-up of his life.

And it was the first that he didn't want to leave.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x OC #eventual fluff #angst #crosshair needs a hug #medical things #soldier things #more tags to follow

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

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The Mandalorian Chapter 13 rewatch thoughts; the reduced salt edition

or at least I’m trying to be more constructive with the salt in this one let’s goooo

- god I miss the armourer so much. look at how fucking cool she looks, this is the mando design I hunger for so deeply, WHY would you give me boob plates back instead haha

- I will say with the way it’s presented this place feels way too small to be called a city lol (and I think that limited scale hurts how much I’m willing to accept the magistrate as a credible opponent to go toe to toe with ahsoka freaking tano. maybe if we’d seen directly the extent of the magistrate’s power and influence and not just the burned out wasteland that power leaves behind I’d be more on board with it. canonically she’s clearly been extremely rich and influential on a galactic scale, while the aesthetic filoni takes from samurai movies in this has a lot more to do with local warlords and smaller stakes. this is not the only time the adherence to that aesthetic without adapting it for the emotional story at hand or giving it a spin for novelty hurts the episode #hot take. it’s empty homage without quite understanding why the moments you’re emulating work so well in the context of the story they serve.)

this might be because how it’s filmed makes it seem like there’s just one big main street towards the magistrate’s palace, it’s implied to be quite a bit bigger from the establishing shot as the crest comes flying in?

- LOVE the implication that din lets baby play with the silver ball pretty freely while they’re on the ship but sets the (completely sensible tbh) boundary that he can’t bring it with him somewhere outside where he might lose it for good. that seems like reasonable dad-ing, din, well done.

anyway my heart is hurting because that silver ball is like a comfort item for the kid and it’s pretty clear from the very start that he has some kind of understanding of what might happen on this planet and so does NOT want to go out there, but also... that thing is narratively introduced as the baby’s way of saying ‘dad, don’t forget me, don’t go’. it’s what made din go back for him the first time, and that’s a connotation it still has both in the audience’s mind and for the characters. and I need to go cry in a corner for a while be right back

- not for nothing but in this scene of the baby being faced with din and a jedi standing side by side as if to present a choice, din literally has the sun right behind his head like some kind of fucking halo

gee I wonder what the baby’s choice is going to be fsadfjkhasdkjfhs. (he! loves! his dad! so much!!!!!!!)

- I wish they’d done more with the bored punch clock villain, hey-I’m-just-here-for-the-paycheck-man vibe of the guard captain guy and maybe given his nonchalance a bit of a darkly comedic tint, I think it would’ve made a better moment when he’s facing off with din towards the end if he had more... character. make him a bit more of a dark mirror of the soulless gun for hire people have seen din as in the past (and as the magistrate seems to now), do something interesting here. maybe even make it more of a mexican standoff with him holding a gun on an innocent or something so there’s something here for din to lose, it still does the western thing and lets you have that ramping tension you need for when you cut between the sword duel and this. hell, have him actually give up and walk away to show that he doesn’t fucking care about any of this, he did evil for money without any driving passion or conviction behind it, and let din decide if he’ll let him walk away scot free or not after what he’s been part of, that’s a neat subversion of the trope as well! as it stands it’s just so... empty

- baby says ‘mada! mada!’ again when they try to approach the vendor who appears to be serving foodstuffs! so maybe a word he has for food or maybe something like ‘lady person!’? (he says it when frog lady is gone on the ice planet and also as she’s walking into the razor crest for the first time. he did seem more interested in the eggs at that point, sooo lol)

din reacts to him speaking too, he glances down at him <3<3<3

- the baby seems to sense ‘ooof this is scary, time to hide’ on his own before they go into the magistrate’s place, din doesn’t appear to signal anything to him

- there’s a lot of deliberate silence in this episode, but the sound design that gets space away from the music somehow isn’t as immersive to me as it usually is on this show? I have no idea why, though

- ‘a jedi plagues me’ is somehow so fucking funny to me. the tl;dr for a lot of star wars villains through the ages

it also still cracks me up that din is immediately like ‘ma’am you can’t afford me’ fsdhfaskf

- I’m so happy din talks to and reassures the baby when he puts him down in these situations now, I remember being SO SAD when he didn’t back in chapter 7. he’s learning all the time!

- I think we should all be very happy this fight is cut off almost as soon as it begins, because I’m pretty sure ahsoka could kick din’s ass real bad and that would be terrible because I love him (listen din definitely has his moments, but up against a force user for the first time and said force user being one of the most powerful and battle-experienced jedi alive? probably not huh, if he survives that it’s on pure fatherly love and desperation and nothing else)

- this seems to be the baby asking ahsoka to carry him back to be with din (mando certainly seems to be what they’re ‘talking’ about right before) and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen

din’s fingers are also doing the nervous curl-uncurl thing as she puts the baby down, and it remains the sweetest goddamn character tic, he’s adorable

in the long pause after he tells her “he needs your help” he’s sitting SO TENSELY, it’s only when she at least promises to test the kid that he relaxes a bit

baby (well, grogu, but he’s also baby) recognizes yoda’s name and seems to almost ask ahsoka ‘yoda is here???’, and her blink in response is like ‘no, I’m sorry’

- I still deeply dislike how it’s actually done in the episode, it’s so clunky and it annoys me on a craft level, but I do like the overarching thematic narrative of both mando and the baby being on this journey towards specificity and remembering themselves, of reclaiming the particular nuances of an identity that make up a self after a series of traumas have stripped it away from them. at the start of the show neither of them has a name (and din doesn’t even have a face) and they’re basically presented as broad archetypes, The Mandalorian and The Child. and now we’re slowly unearthing things that make them this specific child, grogu, this specific mandalorian, din djarin. it’s rediscovering parts of yourself you might have thought lost as you heal from trauma and I do like that very much, it’s touching and the emotional throughline this show should never lose sight of

- oooooh no baby glances over at din when she asks him to push the stone back ;______________; it’s so awful because you can just tell... he understands that if he does this thing din might leave, but also people have clearly tricked him into using the Force before and given him this traumatized kneejerk association that if he uses it where people can see him Bad things might happen

oh okay so I think din just subtly misunderstands the baby’s appeal to him here, he thinks that look towards him means ‘dad help I don’t understand what’s being asked of me’. I guess he doesn’t have any way of knowing how complicated the baby’s past is with this yet, it’s a good try

- I’ve seen people take ‘he understands’ as baby understanding everything that’s said to him all the time, which is patently not true haha. he understands quite a lot, in the way toddlers actually understand quite a lot of what’s going on around them, even a bit of words spoken to them before they’re especially verbal themselves, but he clearly mixes up his colours still sooo

I also suspect he’s played this game before -- surely that must be one of the most obvious activities the jedi would do with the smallest children, playing Force catch basically? but he still doesn’t trust it, or her. (on the other hand he does trust that din would never hurt or trick him. help me I’m drowning in my own tears)

- personally and from anything else in this show I don’t think din would be this impatient with the baby after hearing, less than half a minute before, that he’s terrified

but hey I’m not the man in the cowboy hat what do I know (yes I’m bitter characterization matters okay lol)

- it’s both funny and so sweet that the same music plays during this father and son playing catch scene as when baby lifted that mudhorn fkdfha

- for my money din reacts exactly perfectly to grogu finally Force pulling the ball -- he’s excited and happy, signalling that this thing doesn’t have to be scary and dangerous and that when shared with the right people it can be a good joyous thing, he moves over to the baby so they can share in this victory and attune, and crucially he doesn’t demand more afterwards, which the baby must have gotten before from some of the assholes who’ve been experimenting on him. it’s just the celebration and satisfaction of having done the thing without demands or threats or any ulterior motives. HIM!!! DAD!!!!

tattoo this straight onto my heart... the way baby cheerfully offers it back to din... sdkjafhksdfhsakdjf

- din breaths out roughly and unevenly through his nose almost like it’s been punched out of him and starts fiddling with the silver ball (which is still his primary tell for anxiety/stress!) when ahsoka says “he’s formed a strong attachment to you” :) listen if I have to know that all of you fuckers are going down with me

- see the thing is... if you don’t know who ahsoka is in pretty deep detail, you might take her at face value here instead of understanding that she’s actually projecting her own feelings and traumas onto this. if you absolutely have to use this character for this part of the show you have to set her up better specifically so someone who’s never seen a single episode of clone wars can grasp the basics of where she is emotionally and what her motives are, so that her role in this story makes sense. as it is it’s sort of a compromise between pleasing old fans (who can do quite a bit of inferring to figure it out) and approaching audiences who don’t know anything, and it falls flat

(for the purposes of this show I aggressively do not care where thrawn is, and so I’m just annoyed when we find out what this was actually all for haha)

- still feel reluctant to discuss too much about ahsoka because of the whole... situation with dawson, but I do like that she lets one of the guards leave after disarming him because he’s cowering and giving up, and that she still has her padawan braid wound into her belt. also I think the effects on her and her outfit are completely fine, my problems with her this episode are all writing craft and real life stuff

- when you get first the jet pack sound, then din coming down kicking that dude in the face, then the mando flute kicking in as he lands properly... the only time the action in this episode made me go ‘fuck YEEEAAAAH’ it’s awesome

- again, just like with the idea of having a samurai/ronin movie standoff and a western standoff at the same time: having the scene be mostly silent except for the almost musical sounds of the light sabers hitting the beskar spear is such a cool concept, and it does not work in action. I don’t know enough about filmmaking to tell you why it doesn’t, but it doesn’t.

there’s also something about... the ahsoka vs. morgan scene apes the deliberately staged, ritualized, exaggerated almost like how you’d perform it in live theatre aspect of the duels in the genre, but in an empty way? why are they acting like this, what’s their relationship to each other, what’s their individual code of honour that makes them let the other person slowly theatrically disrobe before going for them? just plucking the aesthetics out of a tradition and plopping them down in your own thing without thinking about the whys or original context of it leaves it without meaning

(also let morgan express something of her own character other than I Am Evil rather than having ahsoka drop the entire exposition on her. maybe you could have her snarl some illuminating lines while they’re fighting so you get the feeling of the bitterness and brokenness that has fuelled her and burned the woods of this whole planet. in some ways she’s not that unlike din and ahsoka, she lost everything in the clone wars too and was motivated very differently by it than they were, play that up so the situation’s relevant to our protagonists! I’m sorry for all this nitpicking but I HAVE to figure out how this could have been done better for my own sake haha)

- ooooooh the way din says “I can’t accept” when offered the spear is in fact almost an exact echo of when the armourer offers him the signet in chapter 3! I thought it sounded familiar, it’s delivered in such a similar way. huh. din has some Feelings about earning things and when he hasn’t earned something, doesn’t he

- din also cares A LOT about not breaking his word, to the point of being willing to stoop to some quite dishonest methods to avoid giving his word in the first place, and I find it utterly delightful

- baby closing his eyes again after din wakes him like he’s thinking ‘maybe if I don’t wake up dad won’t go’ or even ‘at least this way I won’t know it happened until later, when it’s over’... pure emotional torture :) thank god din’s entire soul is clearly howling in protest and he took the slightest chance ahsoka gave him to not actually go through with it

- so this is the second time we get someone telling din he’s like grogu’s father. well, the armourer gives it more like a command/almost a religious obligation, ‘until it is of age or reunited with its kind you are as its father’, ahsoka is stating what’s obvious at this point but says ‘you are like a father to him’... maybe they’re doing a rule of threes thing and the last time it’s ‘you are his father’ and it sticks?

- anyway din cradling the baby so close to his chest with both arms all the time instead of the more practical way he carries him around in the crook of his arm sometimes... my suffering is deep and endless

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta

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merinnan · 4 years

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Time Raiders

Okay, pausing the DMBJ 2 watches to watch the Time Raiders movie instead! I've been told that the entire movie is basically one big crackfic & I want to see how true that is

- Apparently the only place I can find it is YouTube

- And we open with someone laying down cards which...seem to be making a qilin pattern. Okay.

- And now we're at the Himalayas, and it seems to be a bunch of white soldiers shooting people?

- Oh, this leader white guy has a classic villain look. I love the pocket watch, too

- Wait, he's supposed to be a scientist?

- He obviously hasn't read the Evil Overload Handbook

- And now this is giving me flashbacks to Xiaoge's first appearance in DMBJ1

- Ah, yes, I think this is the Xiaoge for this movie. Excellent.

- DUDES. You have GUNS. You were using them just before. Why are you now using knives only?

- I mean, it wouldn't do much better, because Xiaoge, but still

- This is A Look

- Finally, one of them uses a gun, and it's as useless as I expected it would be

- Ahahahah, omg, what he did to these two guys is hilarious

- That is a TERRIBLE hiding place

- Don't....don't leave him alive. JFC

- This flashback montage is super weird

- Look, I don't have a tattoo myself, but I'm pretty sure that that's not how you get tattoos

- And now we move to Wushanju

- Oh, I think it's Sanshu who's been playing with those cards

- ...you have got to be kidding me

- Really? We're really doing this?

- I guess this is Wu Xie, then

- What even did he just randomly put that mask on for

- That is NOT a newborn

- Awww, kid Wu Xie

- Yay, creepy old houses. And ofc kid Wu Xie is gonna try to get inside

- But that is a fucking massive lock

- Yes, of course, wrap the porch in giant fuckoff chains, but don't lock the front door. Why not?

- ....k

- Sure, that happened

- And bratty kid Wu Xie still pinched one of the medallions after all of that

- Okay, yeah, if you were a kid who had to go to a funeral every month, no wonder you'd be so bored at them

- This movie is all over the place in terms of timeline

- I think we're finally into the time period of the main story

- And it seems this one also has Wu Xie as having been an architecture student of some kind

- Oh, yes, that's exactly what you want to find while crawling through a tunnel

- WX: "Sanshu can never know about this. You didn't tell him, right?"

WM: *oh shit I'm screwed face*

- Hi Sanshu, I wonder how you got here

- I love that no matter what version it is, Wu Xie is a little shit XD

- ...Wu Xie. Moths. Light. No.

- Wu Xie gonna Wu Xie

- Wu Xie, what are you doing?

- OMG

- Sanshu, this is all your fault for never letting him in anything like this. He doesn't know not to touch

- Wow, that wasn't subtle at all

- That's some steampunky looking villain lair right there

- I love how the 'passerby video' getting screened fucking everywhere is just the movie footage of that scene XD That's some high quality passerby video with interesting angles

- That's an interesting drinking spot, Xiaoge

- I love that so far Wu Xie's instincts for everything is either 'touch it', 'wear it', or 'dismantle it'

- ....okay

- Yeah, I....I think this is going to be my reaction to most of the movie, tbh

- Although at least this whole magic Snake Empress and weird ancient technology/magic thing is more interesting than the bland het palace drama randomly dropped into the middle of DMBJ1

- Oh, finally, some product placement

- I was wondering what was taking it so long

- I love how all their desks and papers and such are inside what look like coffins, and then fold out

- Oh look, Xiaoge's sword is inside one of the coffins.

- And there's Xiaoge

- Hei Ye gave Sanshu the sword decades ago?

- lol, this is like some Sword in the Stone bullshit right here

- I love it

- a) Was all that really necessary

- b) wtf even is that sword?

- It's a really bizarre design, and surely being able to be moved like a mechanical device would weaken it?

- ...okay, that was a cute meeting, I'll give it that

- Love how the older guys are teasing Wu Xie in the truck here.

- Oh, Wu Xie's actually a psych student in this one

- And like, Wu Xie, how do you know Xiaoge was looking at his reflection. It's a window, he might have just been spacing out at the scenery

- You must have been paying a lot of attention to him to notice it was the reflection he was actually looking at, hmmm? 👀

- This is a cute Wu Xie, tho

- Yes, Wu Xie, despite your lack of modesty there I totally caught that you just called Xiaoge handsome

- WU XIE WHAT NO DON'T DO THAT

- Hahaha, Xiaoge had exactly the same reaction

- No, Wu Xie, it doesn't matter that you'd taken the ammo out, you should never stick the barrel of a gun in your face and look down it like that.

- Even if you're certain it's unloaded, you just DON'T DO THAT

- Wu Xie, lacking impulse control and survival instincts without Xiaoge and Pangzi since....forever

- (okay, lacking survival instincts was perhaps a bit too far, but still)

- I love Xiaoge's "omg what even are you" look at that

- This is a very talkative and open to talking about himself Xiaoge

- It's kind of weird

- lol @ Sanshu locking Wu Xie in the truck so he can't come with them

- I mean, really, does he actually expect this to work?

- He knows his nephew both likes and is good at taking things apart, after all

- lol, I knew it

- Oh

- Oh, that's not a good sign

- Even Coral's logo just screams 'villainous organisation'

- These mercenaries look like video game characters from like COD or something

- Oh hi, lady I presume is A-Ning

- I like the haircut. Looks kinda like DMBJ 1 Xiaoge's haircut, just with the fringe over the opposite eye

- Oh, there's that gratuitous boob shot that @thosch3i told me about

- I really don't see why it was necessary for A-Ning to crawl all over the truck like that when everyone else just walked past it

- There is some really nice scenery in this movie with all the mountains and cliffs and such

- "What I'm doing isn't about right or wrong, it's about how much" I like this A-Ning. She is refreshingly direct and mercenary

- Damn, I though Xiaoge was going to notice the drone. I mean, it's so close to them! He should notice it!

- Love Hendrix's surprised Pikachu face at recognising him, though

- I'm honestly surprised that none of them have looked in the truck at all

- I do appreciate that this movie doesn't even attempt to pretend that they're not tomb raiders

- And that they have no interest in preserving this place

- Because BOOM! Let's just dynamite our way in and destroy half the wall

- Oops, no floor there

- Hahaha, this tomb is a fucking platform game

- Lovely, a shootout in a tomb. Just what every good tomb raiding movie need

- lol, Sanshu

- Don't you ever ever again wonder where your nephew's little shit tendencies come from

- I think Xiaoge and A-Ning are the only truly competent people on their respective teams

- A-Ning, 'keep them alive' does not mean 'try to shoot one in the face at close range'

- That little boot knife is kinda cute, though

- Clever move, Pan Zi

- I love the Xiaoge/A-Ning fight. He really is the only one who could keep her distracted

- I'm impressed at how well she held her own with him

- IDK why he was holding back

- Also, Xiaoge participating in fight banter, no matter how minimal? Strange, but also kinda cool.

- I'm going to be giggling about that "Not bad"/"I know" for awhile, I think

- IDK how they had the time or the ability to stay still long enough to rig up that trap, I'm impressed

- lol, yeah, I didn't think that it would take Wu Xie long to get out of the truck

- I take back my earlier comment about it being too harsh to say that Wu Xie lacks survival instincts without Xiaoge and Pangzi around

- Wu Xie, there is not enough light down here for you to get good shots without your flash being on

- I know having your flash on is a BAD idea, but still

- You cannot be getting good photos in this light

- Why is Xiaoge separated from everyone? He jumped down with them

- I mean, it's good that he is, otherwise Wu Xie would be kinda screwed right now

- Huh, bats, there must be an actual entrance to this tomb, not just the one that Sanshu's team made.

- A-Ning's tiny baby drones are so cute

- The English dubbing in this is surprisingly good compared to the shows

- Yes, good, the staring is starting

- ...Wu Xie, you little shit

- He's so pleased with himself

- Xiaoge is so confused until he explains it

- OMG, a Xiaoge smile

- OMG A XIAOGE LAUGH

- Ah yes, multiple large tornadoes, a way to signify weird shit is going now

- And weird spinny planets forming an...energy grid of some kind?

- ...k

- The mini drones apparently only pick up on people who are part of A-Ning's team, I guess

- JESUS

- I mean, I had a strong suspicion that was gonna happen, but it still made me jump

- Xiaoge to the rescue!

- Damn, that sword is strong

- This tomb definitely has a spider colony, but given it also has a bat colony that doesn't surprise me

- Those are some creepy looking mannequins

- This set up looks like a game of Mouse Trap

- A game of Mouse Trap with fire

- That's actually a really cool way to light all the candles and lamps

- I'm impressed that none of the cobwebs have caught on fire

- Oh, so NOW you use your flash, Wu Xie. When the room is all well lit and you don't actually need it

- CREEEEEPY

- Wu Xie and his compulsive need to touch things

- Are all the puppets connected somehow, or are we gonna have spooky magical shit making them all come to life?

- Oh, the puppet band is like the bells, I guess

- Huh, it seems Wu Xie's the only one who got thrown into memories in these illusions, everyone else's hallucination still has them inside the tomb

- wtf, a lion is a weird thing to hallucinate

- Magic Zhang blood, go!

- IDK why he needs to cut himself for each person, though, surely one cut should be enough to get all the drops of blood he needs

- Good boy, Wu Xie, already so protective of his Xiaoge

- This really is a fucking platform game

- Guys, this is why you study up on the raid mechanics BEFORE you enter the instance

- Ahahahah, the music playing as Wu Xie basically dances with the sword trap

- lol, the look on Xiaoge's face as he realises Wu Xie is just...fucking dancing and taking photos

- And that it's WORKING

- OMFG, this is basically just a bizarre dance sequence

- I love it

- It's so stupid

- The puppets having fucking crossbows

- Because ofc they do

- Repeating crossbows

- ...k

- So now we have a room full of skeletons stuffed into cages

- Why not

- Ah, we're about to have bugs show up

- Excellent

- This is what I've been waiting for

- Let the hilarity begin continue

- Dude, you can quit right now as much as you like, but it doesn't mean you're going to be able to get out of here by yourself

- I guess this guy's gonna die now

- For the tropes are hungry and must be fed

- Much like the bugs

- Yep, here we go

- Hello, shibie, I've been expecting you

- These ones don't look as cartoonishly ridiculous as the ones in DMBJ 1, I'm sad

- OMFG, it's eating the shovel/pick/thing

- Okay, this is a good effort at cartoonish ridiculousness

- It's a lovely day in the tomb, and these are horrible shibie

- Poor Wu Xie, so shocked at getting slapped

- And yeah. Yeah, that's about the only thing you can do there.

- Only way to save the guy is to just give him a quick death so he doesn't suffer from being eaten alive

- They're lucky these shibie move so slowly. It gives them plenty of time to climb up onto those frames

- lol, weird bendy sword again

- Wow, good catch, Wu Xie

- Y'know, Wu Xie, it might have been more useful to give the knife to Da Kui

- And ofc Wu Xie falls down

- What is a DMBJ adaptation without Wu Xie getting himself into danger like this?

- That was so much wtf all at once

- First, an unbroken flute just, like, laying there on the ground

- Then, Wu Xie somehow thinking that playing it would save him from the bugs

- Then that WORKED

- He's like the fucking Pied Piper of the shibie

- What even is this movie

- Haha, the little OK sign he flashes at Xiaoge

- The wtf look on Xiaoge's face

- Same, Xiaoge. Same

- I love how everyone just. Accepts it & congratulates Wu Xie on being an awesome flute player

- But then ig what else are you gonna do?

- It's like, well, this may as well happen

- Sanshu's team really likes using grenades, huh?

- Well, it does work pretty well!

- See, Wu Xie, this is when you need to summon your bugs back

- On a completely different tangent, I cannot get over how weirdly the subs translate men you ping. I had to look up wtf shtum was. I've never come across it before. Is it something more commonly used in the US or something?

- Xiaoge, when you said you had a better way than digging under the door, I didn't think you meant just BATTERING THE FUCKING DOOR WITH THE SHOVEL

- Oh, no, it's with your sword

- Because the best way to look after a sharp blade and keep it in good condition and keep a good edge is to...hack at rocks with it

- Ofc

- Why didn't I think of that?

- OK, ig fucking up your sword's edge did actually work, there's now a giant-ass hole in the door

- This is serious Day After Tomorrow vibes here

- Ah, yes, giant lightning strikes that cause so much force to travel through the earth that they can semi-collapse a tunnel deep underneath a mountain

- Just your usual tomb robbing dangers

- Physicists and meteorologists would have a fucking field day here

- Ah, I see we're at this level of the platform game

- With the collapsing floor you need to get across without falling

- Okay, that's really kinda sweet of Wu Xie here. He thinks he's likely to die, and the most important thing to him is giving Xiaoge the pictures he took of him so that he doesn't lose all his memories

- And aww, Xiaoge's so worried about him

- Like, I'm totally understanding why the transmigrated Wu Xie in that fic looked at these two and went "wow, we're so gay in this timeline"

- Even the music in this scene is shipping it

- Romantic line, and dramatic fall through the floor. Yep.

- I'm amazed he survived that fall, but it's Wu Xie, and he can't die

- ...yes, ancient Persian architecture totally had anachronistic technology. Sure. This is definitely like that

- omfg, they're statis chambers

- 2000 year old stasis chambers

- Guess they're not worried about catching Sanshu and his team to get the key anymore. They've been kinda sidetracked

- Side quests will do that

- ...plant golems

- "Don't shoot the thing that's in the process of murdering your friend! You might damage my research project!"

- Ew, that's not a nice death

- Yes, good girl, A-Ning

- That thing was just gonna kill your whole team otherwise

- ...how did that laptop survive the blast enough for Wu Xie to be using it with no problem

- That's one tough laptop

- Where do I get one?

- And hey, I guess the one Chinese guy with A-Ning isn't actually one of her people, since she just, like, left him there 🤣 In the room with a plant golem 🤣 That she then threw a grenade into 🤣

- ...omg, that's meant to be Pangzi?

- I was wondering why no Pangzi in the movie. I guess 3/4 of the way through isn't too late to properly intro him

- Ahahaha, Wu Xie actually thinks his bluff was super successful when there's a plant golem behind him

- Xiaoge to the rescue again XD

- lol @ both Pangzi and Wu Xie using Xiaoge's sword as a restraint

- ...surprise A-Ning! I wasn't expecting her to actually come back

- And she's somehow lost all of her guys

- That's a lot of snakes, but I'm more interested in where all the water is coming from and why you can see the sun behind those shelves

- Given how deep under a mountain they're supposed to be

- I do love competent, pretty girls wielding huge fuckoff guns

- This door mechanism is so intricate (like the key/timer). So ofc I'm sure they're going to destroy it all

- Because that's how tomb raiding movies go

- Introduce a tomb with intricate and complex mechanisms far in advance of anything else known to that time period and civilisation, and then destroy them in dramatic fight and escape scenes

- OMG the floor is lava

- Of course there's lava as well

- Oh, and it seems it's now all open to the sky

- Ig the lightning which could mysteriously exert high levels of force must have smashed through the mountain and very neatly cleared it all way so that this part of the tomb and only this part of the tomb is now open air

- Wang Zanghai wishes he could go this extra with tomb building

- And now Xiaoge being super extra to get across the destroyed section of the bridge

- So this dude is gonna wake up just before Xiaoge gets there, isn't he?

- And we're going to get an epic swordfight between them

- At least, it better be an epic swordfight

- Otherwise this buildup will be very disappointing

- Ah, yes, good, there we go

- And all the plant golems are also waking up

- ...along with a shitton of snakes

- OMG the snakes have arms

- The snakes

- have arms

- OMG Xiaoge's sword is doing what now?

- That's almost as ridiculous as the snakes with arms

- It's like a sword designed by a 13 year old weeaboo boy

"it's gonna be ancient, and super strong, and nothing will ever make it blunt"

"okay, seems like a typical magic sword so far, that's fair"

"and you can bend it at right angles"

"...you can what"

"and when it's bent at right angles, you can make it spin really fast and still use it like a proper sword"

"...it what"

- ...the Snake Empress is reforming in her armour as thousands of little vines all coming together

- k

- Sure

- This may as well happen

- And her armour has boobplate, because ofc it does

- Oh, she ain’t happy that Xiaoge just killed her plant golem boyfriend

- Her aesthetics are hilarious

- It's part Queen of the Damned, part Little Shop of Horrors

- Okay, snake lady, your worms might change the world but honestly I think that lightning would be more effective if you could control it

- Sanshu and co just randomly walk in through another entrance

- Oh, and there's the rest of A-Ning's team

- I want the story behind this A-Ning and her team. The way they all call her captain, and follow her without a second word, and are so genuinely happy to see her. This isn't just a throw-together team, or a team that Hendrix put together and put her in charge of. This is her team, and there's an obvious history between them

- And snake lady is suddenly not looking as pretty as she was, for no discernible reason

- One minute she's jumping around, the next she's all pale and falling apart. At least her face is

- It's like she's decomposing throughout the fight

- And here come the snakes with arms

- They move just as slowly as the shibie in here do

- They jump pretty fast, though

- RIP the next member of Sanshu's team

- Yeah, machine guns aren't that effective against regular snakes, let alone magic snakes

- And the plant golems are here

- RIP more of Sanshu's team

- Ah, the little snakes with arms are all grown up and off to conquer the world

- ...omfg Pangzi

- And this time it's A-Ning to the rescue

- I love how quickly Wu Xie and Pangzi fall into the dynamic of a pair of clowns, regardless of adaptation

- RIP Harry. You went out like a badass

- Oh wow, both teams are having some fucking epic sacrificial deaths in this fight scene

- I like

- And more cute pingxie, this time in flashbacks

- lol, clearing out plant golem conversion by pure force of will

- ...and channeling blood down the grooves in the sword blade apparently...makes it sharper?

- At least, it couldn't cut through the vines before, and now it can

- That's not how magnetic fields work

- Ahahaha, Wu Xie pulling out his flute

- He's gonna pull that Pied Piper shit again, isn't he?

- Here come the shibie, come to nom on plant-snake-lady flesh!

- She's having just as much trouble with them as everyone else does

- Because it's a lovely day in the tomb, and they are horrible shibie

- Wow, she hits hard, she knocked Xiaoge like halfway across the chasm

- Good thing there was a random broken pillar there

- Are they getting obliterated?

- Ah, no, they're getting sucked up by the wind

- Shibie-nado!

- You know, I kinda like how bad Wu Xie's English is compared to everyone else who's spoken English so far

- It nicely demonstrates who speaks it a lot and who doesn't

- Aw, Wu Xie, you're always so optimistic when you're baby

- And it actually worked. I'm impressed.

- Oh wow, A-Ning, that's some character development right there, caring about right or wrong instead of money

- Nice Pangi & A-Ning dynamic in this movie, given how they usually hate each other

- This is definitely the final level of a platform game

- Hahah, the two teams now

- Awwwwwwww 😭

- I think this is the first time I've seen Wu Xie rescue Xiaoge rather than vice versa

- "I regret not locking you in the truck myself"

- Sorry, Xiaoge, I don't think you'd actually have much more luck with that than Sanshu did

- Xiaoge, you really should have been more careful there, you almost did low Wu Xie

- Good thing A-Ning was close by!

- ....the sword...is being used...as a boomerang

- wtaf

- Hahahah, the snakes' death throes, omg

- lol what even was that ending

Overall: This movie was just one long DMBJ PingXie AU crackfic, and the author didn't know how to end it so just...didn't write an actual ending. That's the only way I can explain it.

#dmbj #daomu biji #time raiders

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Patient Growth - Yaku Morinosuke

Soulmate AU: Red String (the string on your finger points in the direction of your soulmate for about 4 inches of length before disappearing, only to make a full string connection when in each others range of sight)

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, time-skip spoilers, short and sweet.

Word Count: 3k+

“(Y/N), why are you doing math? We had it last semester.”

Pulling the protractor away from your pinky, you looked up to Micky’s face, watching as her eyebrow pushed upwards to her sleek hairline. You clicked your tongue, mouth open for a moment as you slid your notebook in her direction.

“Pythagorean theorem. Seriously, what are you doing?”

You raised both hands off your desk in surrender as you tilted your head away from the girl’s questioning stare. “Okay okay, hear me out.”

“That doesn’t exactly give me good faith.”

“So, the red string soulmate pair has mostly died off as of the late century or so right?”

Micky sighed, swinging her leg over the backrest of the chair in front of you, sitting backwards and she crossed her arms over your desk and leaned forward. “And?”

“And, because a lot of people have no need to know about tricks for the red string we were never taught. A lot of people have tattoos nowadays so I get it, don’t teach about every soulmate history, that’s fine.”

“Get on with it.”

“Okay, okay.” You spun your notebook around for Micky to see it straight on. “After some research, I discovered that people used to use the Pythagorean theorem to find the exact location of their soulmate using the angles of the string attached to their hand.”

“Okay cool, so why are you doing this instead of our English essay?”

Clenching your teeth, you looked away from Micky’s brown eyes to the tiled floor of your classroom. “Well, to be fair I have finished the essay.”

“We were assigned it yesterday.”

“I said it was finished, not good. But besides that. I’ve done five separate calculations, but the angles I’m getting don’t change at all, I’m getting a straight line. No triangle, no location.”

Furrowing her brow, Micky leaned back against the desk behind her, large fluffy hair tickling the back of another classmate’s neck, making them giggle. “Oops, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Mickey leaned back toward you, fingertips pulling at her ends. She sighed, “Have you considered that they might be so far away that 100 metres doesn’t give you enough clear information.”

Reaching for the thread that tied to your pinky, you spun it between your fingers, leaning back as you watched the string fade into invisibility mid-air. “I considered it, but that must mean they’re really far, and I didn’t want to admit that to myself.

“Well, hey. You’ll meet your soulmate eventually, everyone does. So for now, how about you focus on yourself and maybe clean up your essay.”

“Ya, ya you’re right.”

Micky sits for a moment, staring into empty space as your pen slowly lowers back down to the unfinished calculations on the paper. Sighing, she lifted her hand and placed it over yours, stopping the scribbling. “(Y/N), stop. You’re not ready to meet your soulmate if you’re searching for them.”

With a furrowed brow, you clicked the pen close and set in on the table. When you looked up to meet Micky’s eyes the yellow lights in the ceiling dimmed around your vision. “What do you mean by that.”

“Seriously (Y/N). if you spend all your time searching for your soulmate, what are you going to do when you finally meet them? Tell them about the length you went to, to hunt them down? Search for someone else?”

“Of course not—”

Your head shot forward slightly at the smack she landed on the back of it. “Then what?” you didn’t even seem to move. “What do you want to do in the future?”

Picking the pen back up you flipped it between your fingers, spinning it recklessly before it slipped between your digits as they slowly clammed up under the weight of her stare.

“Do you have any clue?” She looked at your notebook before grabbing it from beneath your arms and flipping over a few pages. Slamming it back onto the desk, the sight that met you was one of a completely cluttered page, filled to the brim with words and doodles. “What about this? Art. Writing. You love comics and stories. Why not—”

“It would never last. Starving artists, you know?”

“Get out of that damn mindset. That’s all a hoax, sure it happens, but art and story’s make culture colourful and interesting.”

You sighed, flipping the notebook closed as the beginning of the lunch bell rang. “You say that as if I’d have a giant impact on society.”

“Who says you wouldn’t?”

Russia’s snow was no joke. It made the shorter male shiver to the bone till he managed to get into the building’s lobby. Though, it did persist until he got a hand on the apartment’s doorknob.

Yaku peaked over his model friend’s shoulder, slowly shrugging off his long thick coat before walking back to the coat hangers at the entrance. “You read?” he asked, moving the red string on his finger as it wrapped around one of the hooks.

Lev’s home, shared with his older sister, was a lived-in picture of modern architecture. The flat white walls and smooth stone countertops matched the square windows and minimalist paintings. The rent hardly put a dent in their wallets. Rich people.

Despite the money available, no books shelves in the home were used for actual books, just plants and picture frames. This made the sight of Lev holding a bound stack of paper all the more outlandish. He kicked off his shoes, slinging on the available slippers.

“Huh oh, not often. But Alisa heard that this book blew up and was getting translated into a bunch of different languages, Russian and Japanese included. So we got both and we’re sort of jumping in between the versions for practice, you know? Oh, Alisa’s buying groceries, she’ll be back in time to watch the game though. How was practice?”

Yaku paced over to his friend's sleek kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Pretty good. I'm still getting used to the language, but I’ve gotten a better hang of it. What’s the book about?” The shorter man, two glasses in hand, walked over to his friend and offered one.

Lev gave Yaku a large smile and graciously took it, sipping for a moment before setting it on the coffee table. “It’s a mid-century fantasy, filled with magic, monsters, flying trains. No soulmates though, so you don’t know if the main character’s relationship is platonic or romantic. Not that it’s the main focus of the plot. And the Protagonist is this 18-year-old with no magic but somehow has to stop a magic war from happening between two rival empires. It’s really cool.”

Yaku sat in the opposite corner of the couch, chugging his glass back as he watched an animated movie play quietly on the screen in front of them. “Where’s the author from?” he asked, twirling the pinky tied red string around one of his fingers aimlessly.

“Europe? North-America? Don’t recall. But I did hear that they got scouted to work on an upcoming manga with a small group of authors. Apparently, they are great illustrators. Oh did they design the cover of their book? Ugh, let me check.” Lev reached for his phone on the counter as the door opened behind them.

Alisa, long silver hair tied up into a neat bun, dropped the grocery bags and shook the snow off her head while kicking her coat off. “Lev,” she huffed. “I texted you to help me with the bags. Ah, Mori, you’re here. Good to see you.”

Yaku gave the older model a smile as Lev dropped his phone and rushed to pick up the brim filled bags of food. “Sorry, sorry. I was telling Mori about the books we bought.”

“Don’t worry I managed. Mori, I heard you made it onto the national team, does that mean we’re gonna have to fly into Japan to support you next year?”

Yaku laughed and waved his hand dismissively, “I won’t force you two. But I think the rest of Nekoma would like to see you again.”

Lev let out a loud snort from the kitchen, “We’re going! No doubt about it!” The tall man took a moment to poke his head out, “Oh, Yak— Alisa! You didn’t tell me!”

The childlike anger in his tone made Alisa laugh, turning around to look at her brother head-on. “Tell you what?”

“Your soulmate! Your tattoo is gold now!”

Yaku, from his position, could quickly confirm. The mandala-like flower on the back of Alisa’s neck had gone from a black to a golden shimmer.

Alisa scrambled, quickly pulling her phone close to her chest. With a swipe of her thumb, she brought the phone behind her and pushed and stray hairs up towards her silver bun. The camera clicked.

Yaku raised a thin blond brow. “Do you,” he paused, trying not to chuckle at his friend’s frantic scuffling. “Do you not know who it is?”

“Well, I can’t recall. Nothing was out of the ordinary today.” She tapped her booted toe against the mat before gasping suddenly. Removing the nail she was biting from her mouth, she grunted and pulled her coat back on.

She began to ramble. “That damn cashier! I finally met him and she’s my soulmate? Stupid, stupid!” She stepped through the front door, turning around to give them a smile. “You boys enjoy the game, okay?”

The door closed with a dull thud and click. Lev, hands hanging like dead fish at sides, stood speechless. For a minute he stared at the closed door, not noticing Yaku’s eyes on him, before asking a sudden question.

“Do you want to meet your soulmate?”

“Hmm? Why do you ask?”

Lev stepped back into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of vegetables, silently beckoning Yaku to follow. Heeding, Yaku followed.

“Well, I don’t mean to sound negative or anything. I really want to meet my soulmate.” He trailed off.

Yaku sighed and grabbed his own item to help put it away in the fancy silver fridge. “Everyone has growing to do, and everyone grows at different paces.” He paused, stifling a sneer at Lev looking down at him with a bewildered gaze. He threw a pack of ships into his stomach. “If you never meet them, it was never meant to happen right? But soulmates are funny like that and always find their way to each other. You just got to be patient.”

Lev tossed the back onto a shelf, making the ships crunch daily when they landed. “Do you think you’ll meet your soulmate? Soon?”

“I’ve done a lot of growing, and I like how things are going. So ya, maybe.” Yaku looked back into the living room and to the book that sat in near perfect condition. “If it’s any constellation Lev, I think you’ve done a lot of growing too.”

He looked at the taller friend, immediately regretting his words slightly. Lev wore a cat-like grin.

“(L/N), we’re buying tickets to the Olympic games, do you want one?” Udai asked with an excited grin.

“Uh, hold on.” You pulled the glasses from off the top of your head and onto the bridge of your nose. Standing from your brightly lit desk, you walked over to stand behind one of your teammate’s shoulders to squint at their screen. “Volleyball? Oh, right you played didn’t you?”

The long-haired man laughed, making his chair creak as he leaned back. “So did Akaashi. We know some of the players on the team too.”

You sat up straight, brows shooting as close to your hairline as possible. “You know professional volleyball players?”

Udai let out an airy laugh. “Well Akaashi knows them better than I do, but ya.”

Akaashi, the silent editor that sat across the table, looked up at your bewildered face. “You’re a fan of volleyball?”

“Well, it’s not like I know the name of every player, coach, and team, but I enjoy watching sport in general. Udai, put me on the list.”

Walking back to your desk, you silently listened to your co-authors rattle on about the 3rd act of the story as you made clean lines and whether or not the main character should save the secondary one or not. Sighing, you looked at the black pen you held, before setting it down and gently tugging on your little red string. Akaashi rolled his chair over.

“I’m surprised you haven’t met your soulmate yet.”

“Are you? I’m only two years older than you Akaashi.”

“I suppose you’re right, most people just tend to meet their soulmates at the end of high school or into post-secondary. Typically if they’re in close proximity.”

“Well, I did try to figure out where my soulmate was. My friend convinced me to stop and focus on myself,” you sighed, staring at the papers in front of you. “I’m thankful for that, honestly. If I’m not ready to meet my soulmate, at least I have myself right? I’m happy.”

Akaashi’s head tilted, hair shifting under the fluorescent light as he stared at the small gold tattoo on his wrist with a smile. “Ya, you’re right.”

The stadium, inside and out, was loud. Stacks of hundreds of people slowly making their way around the building and milling about, their conversations made it difficult to communicate.

“So you don’t know how your soul mark works exactly?” Udai yelled into your ear.

“Not entirely. Everyone is different, you know? And not many people have the red string nowadays!”

“Ah, right! Makes sense.”

“Everyone, this way!” one of your co-authors called, as akaashi and another author came back, beers in hand.

Following your group, you made your way to the balcony seats to finally sit down instead of standing among tight groups of strangers. You cast a panoramic look over the circular-shaped stadium at the filled seats that hit the vibrant vinyl colours of the chairs.

“Eh! Akaashi! Is that you?”

Two rows ahead, standing tall, and eagerly running your way was a lanky silver-headed man with a big grin. Next to you, Akaashi stood up, and to be polite you stepped out of his way standing in the stairway to look up slightly at the stranger.

“Ah Lev, been a while.”

Unable to get back to your seat, you stood between the two men patiently.

“You’re here to see everyone right? Oh, who’s this?” Lev asked, turning his head in your direction.

“(L/N), (Y/N). I’m one of Akaashi’s co-workers.”

The man’s thin silver brows pinched together, tilting his head as he inspected your face before suddenly shooting up onto his toes. “You wrote the Rusted Wing series! I love those books!”

“Ah, ya I did.”

“That’s amazing, I-”

A man’s voice called over the speakers, echoing through the stadium. Lev, in an excited rush, insisted on speaking to you later, before running back to his seat where another silver-haired person sat.

Sitting back down, you breathed slowly as the loud conversations around you died and the players made their way onto the court with an uproar of cheers. You smiled, chanting along until Akaashi nudged your arm.

Yaku, completely in his head about the quickly approaching game, kept his eyes on the red jersey in front of him as he walked forward. The music played loudly in his ears and mixed with the messy sound of cheers his head felt like it was floating in a cloud of complete focus on oblivion.

He stood in line, chest rising as he waited for the anthem to begin, but before they did an elbow hit his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, he immediately caught sight of the once invisible red string making a complete line, arching its way up into the crowd where he saw your face above the strangers in the crowd.

Yaku was in a daze. Completely blown out of the water, all the thoughts in his mind seemed to escape him.

The game seemed to have started without his knowledge, and finished just as quickly. Muscle memory had done its job well. Yaku only noticed what had happened when his head was forced up to see the winning scores on a large screen.

“Fantastic work Yaku, and you didn’t even break a sweat! You were a monster out there! Absolute beast.” The head coach’s expression was one of amazement.

Yaku blinked dumbly. “If I’m being honest, I hardly remember a thing I did out there.”

“Well, you did fantastically. Conscious or not.”

When Yaku looked back to your seat, location freshly printed in his mind, you were gone.

He followed the team back into the change rooms. Which happened to be when the rest began to point out the quickly moving direction of his thread. One compared its movements to a broken compass.

Once able to get out of the musty changeroom, Yaku sprinted. The stadium halls were still packed with people. None paid attention to the short man sprinting though. The string had gone still and Yaku eagerly followed it like a trail of breadcrumbs. He knew his fate would be better than the two german siblings because at the end of the trail would be his soulmate and not some cannibalistic witch. He hoped.

The string suddenly shot forward, growing in length. He came to a halt, panting from his sprint; more than he did during the game.

Only a couple metres ahead, head meeting a higher point against Lev’s arm than his own, was his soulmate chatting happily in a circle while maintaining eye contact with his tall friend. The sight made his ears rumble and cheeks burn with embarrassment.

The content smile on your lips when you finally turned his way made all his patience worth it.

I’m getting better at using ‘They’ as a gender-neutral pronoun in writing without making it feel clunky, which I’m happy about.

I hope everyone has been having a nice holiday. - Bacon

Posted: 17/01/2021

#Yaku Morisuke #yaku x reader #yaku morinosuke x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

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asterekmess · 4 years

Text

S3A - E1

Okay, instead of making like massive reblogs of thoughts as I have them for the episodes, I’m gonna just make a massive bullet point list that I’ll add to throughout the episode, so you get One post per episode instead of “Like all nine million of them.”

I put Read-More’s because I care.

Thoughts (of which I have far too many):

I’m in the first ten seconds of the fuckin episode. Why the fuck is Braeden electrocuting Isaac? Like, look, I wanna like Braeden. I have issues with her entire moral system, but I still wanna like her cus’ she saves Isaac. But...how am I supposed to do that when the literal first thing she does is electrocute my boy??? He’s knocked out, not DEAD (not that that’s how shocking someone’s heart even Works) and it’s not like she needs to trigger the healing process. He’s already got Gaping slash wounds on his chest. He’s hurt enough. ALSO. “Be quiet”?? R U Serious? You’re electrocuting him. YOU try being quiet with fucking jumper cables on your chest.

The CGI...is so bad. Oh my god. What the absolute fuck. it looks like Sharkboy & Lavagirl. And why aren’t Ethan & Aiden’s claws doing anything to the bike?

I AM CONFUSION. If the twins don’t have to take their pants off to do the Transformers shit, why do they have to take off their shirts? Can...can I just skip that? Make the big bad werewolf wear an ugly hybrid of two of their stupid ass sweaters? Or do Ethan and Aiden really just like being shirtless that much? (I wouldn’t put it past them)

What is with Braeden and the electricity?

The writing in this show, what the fuck? “I thought I told you to hold on” EXCUSE ME, ma’am. He literally just passed out. His bad I guess.

Guess who has to add the anti-scott tag to this now? Anyway, I hate that Allison’s bit in the intro is her kissing Scott and then drawing the bow. Like, they’re broken up. They don’t get together in this season. Why are they kissing in the intro? That had to have Totally pissed off Scallison fans.

There’s my boy, holding up lizard tattoo designs. Pls tell me he took a pic and sent it to Jackson with the caption “It’s YOU.” Like, yes, way too soon, but man it’s fuckin funny.

This tattoo artist is a good-ass salesman. However, p-sure he’s not a good-ass artist if he had to wrap Scott’s arm up That badly. Like...they have stuff for that. Fuck, the one I got on my ankle, they used SaranWrap and Tape. Just needs to be kept out of the open air for a bit. You don’t need like eight layers of gauze. I do feel for Scott tho. That tat probably cost him like $50-75 before the tip. Oof.

Eyyy, time to be salty. Ya’ll know I love Allison, but does it get any more clear that she totally bailed on everyone after the warehouse? She went to France! She doesn’t even know what happened to Jackson after he got cured. ALSO. Lydia says “Derek taught him the werewolf 101.” Not Scott. Derek. XP

Lydia, honey, leave Allison alone. If she doesn’t want to go on the double date, go alone and make it an orgy. Fun, right? Wait, no. Don’t. You’re 16. Don’t do that!

When exactly did they “agree to give each other the summer”? She said “I’m breaking up with you.” he said “I’ll wait” and then she cried into her dad’s arms. Like...why didn’t we get to see this apparently incredibly important conversation? (maybe because it didn’t happen??)

I fucking LOVE the “I’m just gonna say hi. HEYYYYY! You know....they probably didn’t see us.”

The most horrific thing about that moment was the bad CGI.

I WANNA POINT OUT how cute it is (in a like, sad way cus’ she’s terrified) that Lydia is close enough to Stiles now that she immediately goes for his side and they like insta connect with the eye contact. Not in like a Stydia way, but like, they’re close. she trusts him and goes to him when she’s scared, even though he’s human and you’d wonder if she shouldn’t go to Scott instead, since he’s the werewolf.

SCOTT WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING THE DEAD DEER. Your ability to smell chemosignals/sense emotions has nothing to do with touching. Stop poking the dead animal.

Wait, WHY is there a full moon in that shot? The full moon isn’t for like a week! I COUNTED.

...what? Why the fuck does Braeden think Scott’s an Alpha? Why tho? Like, seriously? WHY? He’s not an Alpha yet. Nowhere near it. And if she knows bc Deaton told her (i think he was the one who hired her) then shouldn’t she know he isn’t one yet? IF SHE KNOWS that she can tell Melissa abt werewolves, WHY doesn’t she know that Scott’s Melissa’s son? Where is the LOGIC?

Scott’s morning routine is giving me Legally Blonde vibes. ~my perrrfectt dayyy, nothing standing in my wayyy~

I can’t tell. did Allison get highlights, or straight up dye her hair brown?

This sweet moment between her and her dad. Yes. Pls.

I will admit, I like getting to see each of their mornings.

Lydia...who are you fucking? Honey, you’re sixteen. Why isn’t whoever the fuck is in bed with you also getting ready for school? What.....the fuck?

Completely different Beacon Hills High School set. I really can’t blame the writers for that.

Wtf Davis? You list Erica and Boyd as being 17...since when? They’re supposed to be entering their Junior Year of high school. They would be 16 GOING ON 17. ANd what the hell do you mean Erica’s birthday is August 16th? She said in the last season that she’d “Just turned 16 a month ago” that was Spring semester. ???? Come on, guys. Seriously. Writing 101, getting to know your characters. I don’t know anyone writing a novel who doesn’t know the exact birthday of their characters. Plus, they cut 2 in. from Gage Golightly’s actual height, while adding an inch to Sinqua’s (according to google, which isn’t always reliable) Whatever. Boooooo.

Uh...that principal was threatened by the Argents. Victoria herself promised to torture him if he didn’t resign. Why does he look so surprised by the fucking sword in his office? For that matter, why is he at the school at all? He KNOWS the Argents attacked him. This should cause problems!

Honestly, Lydia, I love you. Like, go for it. Nothing wrong with not wanting to date and just wanting to have fun. My issues stem from YOU BEING 16. Yes, teenagers have sex. But this is ridiculous. Why is there so much sexualization? I knew a grand total of like....two teenagers who had sex at 16? and like one who did at 15 (which they say in canon she and Jackson were banging before her birthday). Like, it’s not nearly as common as y’all are making it out to be. Knock it off.

WHEN DID MELISSA MEET ISAAC PROPERLY? WHEN did that HAPPEN?

....so why didn’t Derek answer the phone? They literally never explain? He shows up, so...why didn’t he answer?

I’m SO InCredibly Disturbed by Jennifer having everyone’s phone numbers. HOW? In What Way is that REMOTELY appropriate? WHY did no one question it? Why didn’t STILES or LYDIA question it?

So tiny, bugs me so much. He didn’t turn his phone off. He turned his screen off...is it that hard to have him do the right one?

uhhh. Werewolves can smell other werewolves. Wanna tell me why Isaac can’t tell a werewolf just walked in the room? An ALPHA no less?

why TF are Kali’s iris’ and pupils so fucking massive?

So...what was the deal with the birds? Don’t they say later that Jennifer like summoned them? So they aren’t from the Alpha pack scaring animals? And also, how would the Alpha pack be scaring animals if they’re like, in the middle of town? They said in S1 that “wild animal sightings are up” like what 75% or something? “As though something is scaring them out” but that made sense, bc we knew Peter was running around in his full-shift (it’s a fucking full shift, it’s just fucked up) in the woods. But these Alphas aren’t, they’re integrating. So is it Jennifer that the animals are afraid of? Like, does she have sPoOkY aura or something?

More bad CGI.

WHy is no one responding to the woman stumbling around in nothing but a hospital gown?

ONCE AGAIN. Werewolves can Sense Werewolves. SCOTT you sensed Isaac in a BOYS LOCKER ROOM. DUKE IS RIGHT THERE. WHT THE FUCK?

angry smoker doctor “Why don’t you wheel this joker out of here?” “I’m gonna go smoke” Grrr

Sir. clearly your mask wasn’t tied on appropriately. it shouldn’t just Fall Off when you touch it. there are Protocols! STOP THE SPREAD. also, someone wanna tell me why none of these alphas can keep their claws in? A lil flashy flashy red eye would’ve done the trick just fine.

Okay no, seriously what the FUCK is up with these contacts, you guys? THEY”RE MASSIVE???

Ugh, can I just *swoons* “I’m an Alpha!” slice “So am I.” That is just so fucking smooth. Woo. I feel so safe ohmygod. PLUS. Derek KNOWS Ennis. I can’t imagine how satisfying that had to be.

Uh, Derek, honey. You’re Isaac’s legal guardian. You can just Sign Him Out of the hospital. With clothes and everything. What are you doing?

Honey, what do you mean the county took it over? If they were gonna do that they’d have done it six fucking years ago. Unless you gave it to them, it’s still yours? I did the research. Like HOURS of it.

What do you MEAN there’s a magic healing herb that helps with Alpha wounds? Since when do Alpha wounds need extra healing, I thought they just took a lil longer? ALSO why is it growing INSIDE your house???? SCOTT. Isaac is fucking UNCONSCIOUS. Can your tattoo fucking WAIT A MINUTE?

I have so many questions. WHY does Braeden know who Allison is? If Lydia’s immune to magic, WHY is Braeden able to bruise her? WHY can Braeden DO magic? and WHY is Chris allowed to take Lydia out of school?

ALLISON you had Geometry LAST YEAR why are you holding a GEOMETRY BOOK??

ohhhhmygod, Derek. Derek. DEREK. Your eyes are pretty on a normal day. That little Blink and ruby reds thing? Ohmygod. I just. I wanna take a picture and just stare at it BUT. how tf does this whole red eye thing work? You can see in the dark....but now you also have x-ray vision? You know, I could believe it was thermal vision...maybe? If Scott was still healing for some reason maybe the tattoo would be brighter? Otherwise I have no idea what is going on.

BUT SCOTT”S NOT 18??? He’s Still fucking 16, or even 17, but not 18. WTF? He needs parental consent in the first place (i should’ve mentioned this in the other note abt the tattoo)

uhh...seriously? When someone breaks up with you and tells you not to talk to them anymore...why do you need a reward for doing as they asked? Like, yeah, you’re sad, I feel that. But making it a ‘reward’ sounds kinda weird. You know what makes it really easy not to text the ex that doesn’t wanna talk to you? Delete her number.

WHY THE BLOWTORCH? SOMEONE WANNA EXPLAIN? Peter’s not covered in tattoo from when he was literally burned alive, why the FUCK would a blowtorch create a black tattoo on Scott’s skin?

DEREK. HONEY. Why would Stiles be able to hold Scott still??? Scott’s a werewolf.

All this bullshit to explain away Posey’s tattoo that he got. Like, damn dude, we all like tattoos, but you have a job that needs bare arms on the regular. That was kinda rude.

Where did braeden get clothes? I forgot to ask.

uhhhh. Ephemeral might technically work in that sentence, but that’s still really awkward.

WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DESTROY HIS DOOR? YOU FUCKING ASSHAT. And WHY the instant fucking grr face? “why’d you paint the door?” uhh, leave him alone? He can do what he wants? It’s his house? Also, don’t get all fucking rude about the alpha pack. He told you it was a rival pack.

KALI. PUT SOME FUCKING SHOES ON. JESUS.

Why exactly does Scott see the symbol and INSTANTLY put together that it’s got anything to do with the Alphas or the animal attacks? Where is the logic jump there?

What exactly was the POINT of popping your claws if you were gonna kick her in the face???

UH, Melissa? Why didn’t you tell Scott that there was a whole other person with Isaac?

What is with the face touching, Duke? I’ve never known a blind person who actually wanted to rub their hands on my face to ‘find out what i look like?’

Really not a fan of all these weird jumps and camera angles with the awkward reflecting.

WOah WOah. Allison gets to PAINT her APARTMENT? Wtf kinda BULlshit is that? My landlord won’t let me do that. Rude.

I know they’re imprisoned and it sucks, but they’ve been there for four months, they had to have gotten bored. Do you think they broke into any of the security deposit boxes to see if anything was left behind?

Last thoughts: They really went for it with this episode. I have plans to change a lot of it. Hopefully I can mesh the changes with the general plotline.

#personal #TeenWolf-Rewatch #anti-scott mccall #for safety reasons

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Female orc (Rakasha) x male character (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Yes, her name is Rakasha, not rakshasa. Sorry if that’s confusing for those like me with some form of dyslexia! Why do I do this to myself. Anyway, folks, this is a story reward for one of my higher tiers, featuring a snarky orc, a Tired(tm) healer, and a pair of cursed rings...

I really hope you enjoy it!! Don't forget to let me know if you did by reblogging it! It means the world, but if you're shy, a click on the heart button is also great :)

Content: past family deaths, nsfw, and fluff. :) Word count: 9206

---

Virion stepped through the bazaar, trying not to gaze around him and gawk at everything as if he’d never been in a town before. That was a sure-fire way to stand out and attract a cut-purse, or perhaps worse. Trinkets here and there caught his eye, but he never lingered long, slouching along with his hands in his pockets.

Taller than many of the humans, he nearly tripped over a tiny fae creature as they scuttled along after a what he had thought was a puppy at first, but when he saw it had six legs, and scales mixed in with the fur, he blinked, shook his head a little, and moved on. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, and just let the current of people pull him along through the bustling, tightly-packed stalls until he came to a tiny, extremely narrow shop crammed into the space between two larger facades, almost as though it had been deliberately stuffed into the gap between two buildings. On closer inspection of the roof line, he saw that that was exactly what had happened.

Equal parts amused and intrigued at the odd little place, he pushed the door open, his palm pressed flat to the cool, warped glass panels, and stepped into the fusty old shop. A smell of damp paper and slightly mildewed leather filled the air, and despite the apparent narrowness of the space from the outside, a huge amount of ‘stuff’ was crammed into the shop. Cabinets of curiosities lined the right hand wall, while various trinkets and pieces of mismatching armour were aligned along the left. A helmet with a completely bashed in faceplate stood proudly on a small wooden pedestal on the table, and around it were an arrangement of bronze arrowheads etched with runes. Down the centre of the room were piled trunks and boxes and crates, right up to the spider-webbed rafters.

It was only as a shadow moved further down the shop that he realised he was not the only customer.

A tall, well-built, female orc wearing a studded, leather travelling jerkin moved idly to examine some daggers arranged in a stand, and Virion found himself drawn down the narrow corridor of space between the wooden crates and the left hand wall. He’d always found orcs a strange people, and one he knew very little about despite having travelled a fair bit. She had a lethal looking re-curve bow strapped to her back, and a number of other weapons glinted and caught his eye the longer he looked.

From behind a nearby box, a tiny, stoop-spined old man suddenly and rather gleefully croaked, “Visitors!” and both the orc and Virion startled, whipping round to face the source of the exclamation.

The orc growled softly to herself, fingers gripped around a knife at her hip and muttering under her breath in a language Virion didn’t recognise, but he knew softly-hissed curses when he heard them.

“Peace, peace,” the ancient little man laughed - a sound like a piece of dry, crumpled parchment. He poked his half-moon glasses back up his bulbous nose with an arthritic finger and grinned toothlessly up at the orc. “Ah,” he said. “I see you have found my collection of daggers. I would direct your attention to this one, with the hilt made of-.”

“I’m not interested in those,” she said, bluntly cutting him off. “I need some more arrowheads. You got any?”

“Hmm,” the shopkeeper said, bobbing his head repeatedly like a child’s toy and seemingly unperturbed by her rudeness. “Yes, yes. Finest goblin forged steel? Or perhaps you’re looking for something a little closer to home? We have orcish wares too…”

“I don’t care. It just needs to be about this big -” she held up her finger and thumb and Virion glimpsed scars and some dotted tattoos across her knuckles before she lowered her hand and shot him a nasty look. “And I need them sharp. I can’t be bothered pissing about sharpening them. I’ll take about twenty.”

“I’ve only got ten goblin forged -”

“Whatever. I’ll take what you have then.”

Virion’s brows knitted but he decided to keep back and mind his own business. Traditionally, as far as he knew anyway, orcs were quick to anger, and not the kind of creature you wanted to piss off.

Turning his attention back to the plethora of things arrayed along the wall, he found his eyes resting on a pair of rings in a simple wooden box. He’d always been curious as a child, and suddenly a very child-like urge to pick one up and try it on overwhelmed him. Unable to stop himself - after all, what was the harm in trying on a simple band of tarnished silver? - he reached for it and slid it onto his right index finger.

Holding it up in the dim light, he saw that it wasn’t a plain ring after all. Engraved into the band was the design of two dragons, their snouts almost touching, their wings outstretched along the middle of the band, while along the upper and lower extremities seemed to be some kind of text, ancient and unreadable to him at least. It caught the light in a pleasant way and he smiled, considering asking the shopkeeper how much he wanted for it.

The wizened old man, however, had disappeared to fetch the small batch of arrowheads, the orc wandered over and picked up the other one, turning it over in her jade green fingers. Her expression softened somehow, the tension melting from her brows, and she reminded Virion of his late sister trying on their mother’s jewellery. Not that she’d had much, but Clara had always held it with a wondrous kind of reverence. It brought a smile to Virion’s face to see the tough woman enjoy something so frivolous and harmless as trying on a ring.

The shopkeeper returned and handed her the arrowheads, and when he saw what she was doing, his blue eyes lit up with joy and he clapped his hands together.

The orc didn’t seem put off by his odd reaction, but then she actually slid it onto her finger and everything happened at once.

A light flashed between Virion and the orc, bleaching his vision blank, and a burst of energy exploded from its epicentre. Objects went flying from the shelves and rained down onto the flagstone floor around them. Virion was knocked back, landing heavily on his backside, while the orc reeled and staggered into what sounded like a tower of wooden crates.

Virion rubbed at his eyes, blinking furiously, and gradually his sight began to return to him. From the way the orc was mashing the heel of her palm into her own eye sockets, he assumed things were going as slowly for her as they were for him.

“What the fuck?” she rasped a moment later. “I… I can’t…”

Still blinking, his ears ringing a bit from the release of whatever force had been cooped up in the two rings, he tottered to his feet and looked down at his hand. The band, which had been darkened with age was now bright as a newly struck coin, but what sent a jolt of real, ice-cold terror through him, was the fact that it wouldn’t come off. It wouldn’t even budge. Somehow, a ring that had been a little bit too big for his finger when he’d first slipped it on, was now nestled snugly around it, and was refusing to come off.

The orc, he saw when he glanced over at where she still sat on the floor, was in the same situation.

“Where’s that little fucker?” she snarled, pushing herself up with the lithe speed of a panther and looking around for the shopkeeper. “He’d better not have been a fucking fae… I’ll rip his head off his scrawny neck if he can’t fix this…”

“Easy,” Virion murmured levering himself more carefully to his feet. “There has to be an explanation. He must be here somewhere. Perhaps he was knocked over by the explosion as well?”

The orc fixed him with such a derisive look that he actually took a step back, her amber eyes glowing in the dim light of the shop.

But the little man was nowhere to be found. They searched the entirety of the shop, finding nothing in the back but spiderwebs and the dry skeleton of what might have been a rat. When they emerged from the storeroom at the back, they passed through the shop - careful to touch nothing this time - and the orc growled, “Listen, there’s a goblin who runs a jewellery shop back up towards the town square. He might be able to get this off.”

Virion nodded, still shaken and feeling a little wobbly in the knees. Magic wasn’t something he wanted anything to do with, and yet here he was, with some ancient ring stuck on his hand. Just like him to barrel headlong into trouble without a care in the world.

“Since we’re in this predicament together,” he ventured amicably as the orc led the way through the street without looking back at the shop, “I’m Virion.”

With little more than a fleeting, sidelong look down at him from her impressive height, she grunted, “Rakasha.”

She seemed to have little interest in further conversation, so he simply strode along beside her, keeping pace easily enough, and occasionally bringing his hand up to stare at the ring in the sunlight.

The goblin, however, had no good news for them. He tried to cut the rings off using some beefy looking wire cutters, but they glanced off the surface without leaving so much as a scratch. “I suspect a saw wouldn’t do any better either. Might lop your finger off, and who knows what that would do to you…” He rubbed his long ear thoughtfully with gnarled fingers and said, “Mmm… these are magic, for sure. You’d be better off going to somewhere like the University up at Grantbridge. They’ll have mages there who’ll be able to help you. I’m sorry.”

Rakasha snarled and stormed out without so much as a thank you to the goblin, and Virion turned back to the tiny creature with a sigh. Before he was able to articulate even the first syllable of his thank you, blinding pain erupted in his stomach again and his knees buckled. Clutching his middle, he went down like a felled tree as white heat burst through his skull and he could barely think through the sudden shock of agony.

The goblin scuttled around the counter and crouched beside him, just as Rakasha lurched back in through the door. As she did, the pain eased, and Virion opened his eyes, panting. “What the…?” he wheezed.

The jeweller looked from one to the other of them and his black eyes widened. “I’ve heard of enchanted objects like this,” he said, his reedy voice grim and hushed. “You can’t go further than a short distance from one another…”

Virion chuckled mirthlessly. “You might have mentioned that sooner, friend,” he said, and the goblin shot him a sheepish look of apology.

“Oh fuck this,” Rakasha rumbled, still holding onto the open door for support and looking a little paler than she had done a minute ago. “As if having a cursed ring stuck to my hand wasn’t enough, I end up tied to a pathetic little human? How far is it to Grantbridge from here?”

Virion wasn’t exactly a hulking tower of warrior muscle, but neither was he small or weedy, and he scowled openly at the orc.

“Three weeks on foot?” the goblin hedged, steadying Virion as he clambered to his feet for a second time since putting on the ring. “Maybe a bit less for you two,” he added with a wry grin down at his own small boots.

“What if I just kill him and cut the ring off his finger?” she growled.

The goblin’s mottled grey-green skin blanched a little at that, and he held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, as if he thought she might just gut Virion then and there in his shop. Virion too took a step back, eyes fearful. The jeweller stammered, “M-Most of the time, or so I’ve heard, with such objects… if you were to do that, you’d only kill yourself as well… Your… Your life forces are linked, somehow… I’m not a mage though, so I… I don’t know the consequences of such extreme action…”

Rakasha looked at Virion with her amber eyes blazing like the setting sun, and said, “Tell me you don’t have some pressing business you need to get done first, right? Some wife and a brood of whelps you need to tend to…”

He shook his head sadly. “Just me,” he said. She seemed so full of anger, so defensive, so short-tempered and quick to dismiss others. This was going to be a long few weeks, he was sure of that.

After a brief stop at the tavern where he’d been staying, to collect his belongings and settle up, the two headed to the western corner of the small trading town, and began their journey up to Grantbridge. They would have to cross the Whispering Plains, a vast tract of grassland inhabited by centaurs, minotaurs, a few cervitaurs, and the bison folk, before hitting the Granta river, where they hoped to take passage on a barge, at the suggestion of the innkeeper at Virion’s former lodging. It should shave a few days off their journey time.

That first day as they trudged in almost complete silence along the Queen’s Road, through lush copses and gentle rolling hills, Virion thought Rakasha might still risk lopping his head off with the axe at her belt. She spoke no more than a few words to him, and by the time the sun was tipping towards the horizon, he had given up trying to make conversation with her. She just ignored him, as though he were some kind of yapping stray puppy who had decided to trot along at her heels for a while, and who would soon grow bored and go away.

Rakasha was tense, her shoulders set, her pace relentless as she marched along, and every now and again she would cock her head to one side, as though listening to the woods on their left for trouble. The sun grew warm in the late afternoon, and she shucked her long sleeved leather jerkin off to reveal her impressive torso, wrapped only in the bindings around her muscular breasts and leaving her smooth stomach and muscled arms bare. Virion, despite being more than wary of the orc and having only encountered her kind as vicious raiders in the past, couldn’t help but admire a being in the peak of fitness and conditioning. She was gorgeous too, he supposed in her powerful way.

Some time later, taking his eyes off the dirt track immediately in front of his boots, Virion glanced up and scowled. Up ahead there seemed to be a young looking cervitaur, lying limply on the side of the road. The two of them spotted him at the same time. Rakasha’s hand eased her axe in its holster while Virion immediately darted forwards, his mind already trying to evaluate his condition, even from that distance. The creature looked half-starved for a start, his hips standing out and his cervine and human ribs obvious as his chest heaved weakly.

Before he’d made it two paces down the road, Rakasha grabbed him by the top of his travel pack and hoiked him back as if it were the scruff of his neck, and growled at him to be careful. Biting back a hot flare of irritation, he batted her off with a carefully aimed swipe of his forearm. She released him more from surprise than his own martial arts skills - which were admittedly very limited. He’d just gone for the vulnerable bit where the muscle was thinnest and the bone unprotected. Who needed martial arts skills when your grasp of anatomy was as good as his…?

Kneeling at the dirty looking cervitaur’s side a moment or two later, he saw how thin and weak he looked.

“Help me?” he rasped.

“What happened?” Virion asked, wanting to run his hands over the cervitaur to check for injuries, but restraining himself to get permission first. “What hurts?”

Before he had the chance to hear any more, the cervitaur’s hazel eyes darted to a point just behind Virion’s head, and the man frowned, ducking sideways instinctively.

A gnoll had sprung silently out from the rocks above where the scrawny cervitaur lay, and launched himself at Virion. With a roar, Rakasha launched herself at a second bandit and at the same time, ripped the attacker back from Virion with her free hand. She cracked their skulls together, leaving them staggering and concussed, before knocking them out with the back of her single-bladed axe and turning to face the last bandit who had rounded a huge boulder just down the road.

Her hair fell down her back in its loose ponytail, and as she squared off, Virion’s eyes widened. The cervitaur she was facing now was huge, almost as powerful and muscular as a bison taur. With his stag’s antlers held high, he pawed the ground, and then lowered his torso a little and charged her.

Virion crouched beside the younger cervitaur, frozen with a kind of fascinated horror as the two fought. She was a complete force of nature. The cervitaur’s hooves lashed out but she ducked and dodged them, his antlers swept from side to side, but eventually she locked him in a wrestling move and tipped him onto his side, slamming him into the dirt of the road so hard he was left stunned and winded. Her axe blade hovered mere inches from his throat and he fell still.

From beside him, the younger cervitaur gasped, “Uncle…”

“That’s your uncle?” Virion blurted, horrified that the kid was so young and malnourished compared to his relative.

Rakasha still had her axe blade to his throat and was snarling something in his ear. The cervitaur nodded in response, and suddenly she’d bashed him on the side of the head too, leaving him unconscious as well.

“He’ll be fine,” she growled as she prowled over to the pair of them. Virion suspected that all three of them would need to see a healer though; concussions like that didn’t just go away. “I take it you were bait, kid?” she said and the cervitaur nodded. She shot Virion a look that told him quite plainly what she thought of him for falling for the ruse so quickly. “Can you stand?”

Shakily, he staggered to his feet and accepted the water skin that Virion handed him. “Thank you,” he said.

“You should run while you can,” Virion said. “Get to the town… This is no life for you, kid…”

“I’m not a kid,” he said with a watery smile. “I’m nineteen.”

“You need to get some meat on your bones,” Virion murmured. “There’s lots of work in the town, and it’s only eight miles or so that way. You’ll have to be careful.”

“I’ll be alright,” he shrugged.

Virion grinned at him, though it was hard not to feel deep concern for the underfed and malnourished young cervitaur. Virion had been there himself: alone, aimless, adrift from his family. He offered him the knife on his belt, but the cervitaur refused him gently. “Alright, well… take care,” Virion said, scratching the back of his head.

The two of them watched him trot off down the road, and Virion shot a glance over the three unconscious bandits. The male gnoll who had attacked him was still out cold, but the female flicked an ear groggily.

“Come on,” Rakasha snarled, and he turned to face her.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, only just noticing a bruised-looking gash on her upper arm, presumably where the stag’s antlers had got her.

She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait,” he said, picking up his pack from where he’d slithered out of it during the scuffle. Rakasha continued down the road, and when she hit about twenty five feet from him, she grunted, staggering. Virion, however, experienced blinding pain in his gut and head and was not ashamed to howl in protest. “Fucking shit, Rakasha, at least let me grab my stuff will you?”

The orc grudgingly let him catch up and then grunted, “We should make camp for the night soon… while there’s still enough daylight.”

With a glance over his shoulder at the still-prone bandits, Virion added, “Let’s get another few miles first, eh?”

He couldn’t stop fussing - silently and only to himself, however - about the cut in her arm, and when they finally turned off the road perhaps only twenty minutes before sunset, she surprised him by allowing him to tend the wound. It wasn’t deep, and hadn’t needed stitches, but he fished out some alcohol and a clean cloth from his bag and wiped it down, eliciting a hiss from her, and a softly spoken curse in her own language.

“You know,” he said, “I… I feel like I have an apology to make to you…”

“For that?” she snorted, jutting her chin towards the freshly-tied bandage around her arm. “Please. That didn’t hurt.”

“No,” he laughed softly. “No, for assuming you were just a brutish thug, I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he flushed hot. “Care to elaborate?” she laughed.

He swallowed thickly. “You could have killed those guys today…” he said. “But you didn’t.”

Rakasha shrugged and stood, moving over to a log and rolling it a bit closer to the fire pit before plonking down on top of it and inspecting the bandage curiously. “I was going to, but I don’t want the law on my hands for murder. I’ve already got enough shit to deal with, being tied to you and cursed with this ring…”

Virion’s shoulders dropped a little bit and he caught Rakasha’s amber eyes watching him over the flames, glowing in the dim light.

“I’d be halfway across the plains by now if it weren’t for you,” she added, her voice gritty and harsh.

“What? How?”

She laughed, and while wasn’t exactly cruel, it was gruff and spoke of a tougher race than his own, for sure. “You can’t run beside an orc all day, human. Get some rest. We’ll start before dawn.”

He shook his head, fighting the disappointment that had bloomed in his chest. After so long on the road alone, he’d half hoped that this might turn into a tentative friendship, but the orc clearly regarded him as little more than a bothersome parasite. Honestly, he was tired, and although he was fairly fit and lean, his muscles ached from the pace she’d set that day. The orc was right - there was no way he could have run all the way to the ferry crossing on the Granta. Self-doubt and misery began to crowd into his mind, bringing with it memories of the most painful night of his life; the night he’d ended up alone and wandering the roads of this corner of the kingdom.

Needless to say, what with the creaking of the woods and the roots digging him in the back, and the nebulous unease that clawed at the inside of his mind, he didn’t sleep well. When he had sat up and scrubbed at his eyes with his hands, he found Rakasha staring at him.

“What?” he grumbled.

“You look like shit.”

“You’ve got leaves in your hair,” he retorted immediately, oddly reminded of the repartee he’d had with his sister for a moment. The sudden reminder and pain of Clara’s loss lanced through him and almost brought tears to his hazel eyes.

Rakasha, perhaps more curious than concerned, grunted, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, though it came out as a croak. He cleared his throat. “You ready to make a move?”

She nodded but didn’t speak.

“How’s your arm?” he asked, standing and feeling the need to answer nature’s call.

She shrugged her beautiful, bare shoulder experimentally and pursed her lips. Her tusks were thick and short, her jaw heavy, but there was something monumental about her that he found strangely beautiful, especially in the dim pre-dawn light between the birch trees. “It’s good,” was all she said.

As he’d returned - not going all that far because he didn’t want to risk the flaring hot agony of getting beyond the permitted range of the rings - drawing closer to the campsite, he felt something odd tugging at him on the inside with each step. It reminded him of the intense pain he’d felt in his gut the day before when she’d gone on ahead of him. If he concentrated on it hard enough, he realised that it was drawing him towards her.

“You felt that too, I take it,” he said when he returned and saw that she had paused, halfway through scuffing out the embers of the fire. In answer, she simply shouldered her bow, axe glinting softly in the loop at her belt.

Stepping out onto the road, Rakasha rolled her shoulder again and said, “Where’d you learn medicine like that?” she asked. “You’re not a mage, are you?”

He shook his head, secretly pleased that he’d helped with the already-advanced healing process orcs possessed. “Nope,” he said, letting the consonant pop. His chest fizzled as he felt the conversation steering around towards his past, but he didn’t shy away from it. If they were going to be travelling together, he didn’t mind trying to forge some kind of relationship with her this way. And besides, her curiosity was better than her contempt from the previous day.

“My father was a physician,” he said, voice catching on the tense of the verb. “My older sister too.”

“Was?”

“They’re both dead.”

“Spirits shelter their souls,” she murmured reflexively, and he smiled at the unexpected sentiment. “What happened?”

Virion swallowed thickly and ran his hand through his scruffy brown hair. “I used to travel all over with them… helping people here and there, you know. Setting broken bones, stitching up cuts, that kind of thing. But I didn’t take it all that seriously. Not like they did.”

A stone scuffed beneath his boot and he kicked it along the path, watching it bounce off the ruts in the road.

“I… I was much younger than my sister, so their work always seemed like ‘grown-up stuff’, you know? I felt like an outsider a lot of the time, and even when I was seventeen or eighteen, I would usually go off and drink or show off for the girls or whatever instead.”

As lighting runs ahead of thunder, amusement flared in her golden eyes and Rakasha tipped her head back and laughed heartily this time, and Virion caught sight of a bead in her ponytail that was quite obviously made from an orc’s tusk. He immediately burned to ask her about it, but it felt like an extremely personal question, so he refrained from voicing it.

Instead, he asked, “What’s so funny about that?”

“Did it work?” she said, still chuckling. “Did you impress any of these soft human women into bed?”

“What do you think?” he grinned, encouraged by this more playful side of her.

She shook her head. “I can’t see anyone swooning into your lap, human,” she said, punching him on the arm. “But I’m an orc, so…”

“What’s impressive to an orc then?” he asked, trying not to show that her words had stung more than the punch had. “Rippling muscles and a bellowing war-cry?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said. “But I bet a mouse could fart louder than your war-cry.”

“I don’t even have a war-cry,” he said. “I’m a healer, remember?”

“True,” she hedged. “Maybe you don’t need one.”

They lapsed into silence after that for a bit before he continued his story. The sky above was cloudless and the pale blue of courtly silk, much like it had been that day when he’d walked into the village, heart heavy with dread and found them. The trees became sparser as they walked, and up ahead he could glimpse the sea of shifting grass that was the Whispering Plains and the start of the White Road.

“There… There was a report of plague and they… uh…” he cleared his throat, ignoring the prickling in his eyes. “They went to see what they could do for them.” He didn’t need to articulate what had happened next. “I didn’t hear from them in weeks, and eventually I went to look for them.”

Bodies bloated in the sun, the stench of death that the cloth around his mouth couldn’t mask, the withered remnants of his only family… He closed his eyes briefly, stilling his churning stomach, and then said, “I burned them and promised them I’d do better, that I’d be better.”

Rakasha blinked as he finished his story, looking down at him from her height, and tilted her head slightly. “That’s a terrible fate for anyone to meet,” she said respectfully. “And you risked bringing it on yourself as well to honour them…”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t leave them like that. They were all I had left.”

She nodded and returned her eyes to the road ahead. Something seemed to have shifted between them, like the stirring of a breeze after a week of stagnant calm.

In the two days it took them to cross most of the plains, using the White Road, so called because it had been cut into the chalk downland of the plains to leave a gleaming white ribbon across them. Virion learned something about Rakasha in return. She was the daughter of the chief of a big clan, came somewhere in the middle of eight siblings, and had set off on her own with her clan’s blessing to see a bit more of the world.

“It’s becoming more common,” she said, swatting a fly out of her face as they traipsed along. In the distance, a herd of centaurs looked up, sounding a short blast on a horn at their presence. Rakasha didn’t seem bothered, and the centaurs in these parts were not known for attacking travellers. “Younger orcs are almost taking it as a rite of passage. We’ve come to call it the Wandering.” She scratched at her tapered, pierced ear and shot him a look that was surprisingly self-conscious.

“What have you learned so far then?” he asked. He inferred from something about her manner that she’d found it a bit of a culture shock, but he was curious to see what she’d say.

The centaurs made no move to come any closer, but they were now all watching them now, perhaps half a mile away.

She shrugged. “Not to pick up shiny bits of jewellery in back-ally shops for a start…”

Virion chuckled and said, “Well, it’ll be a tale to tell when you get back to the hold.”

Her face darkened. “I hope this mage can help us,” she said, twisting the band of the ring on her finger.

“Tired of me already?” he quipped. He found he liked the challenge of trying to make her laugh, but the look she gave him this time took him by surprise; it was almost fond, behind the scowl.

“You’re like a stray dog that’s growing on me,” she said.

With an easygoing shrug, he laughed, “I’ll take what I can get.”

The centaurs turned out to be traders, and they exchanged a few objects and coppers for some roasted seeds and nuts, way-bread, and dried fruits to sustain them on the final stretch of the plains. It took a week to cross the plains, and in that time Rakasha opened up to him a bit more. She explained the meaning behind the dotted tattoos on her knuckles and when he dared to ask about the tusk bead in her hair she smiled and said it was in remembrance for a dear friend she’d lost in one of the raids.

Finally, on a swelteringly hot afternoon, they made their way down through the sun-bleached and -blasted grasses towards the Granta river. A modest, wooden jetty stuck out a few yards into the slow-moving water, half hidden by tall, rustling reeds.

They only had to wait overnight for a river barge going downriver to come by the empty dock, and after bartering with the harpy captain for passage, the two were welcomed aboard. At the stern of the wide, flat river barge was a structure a bit like a shed, built to shelter the travellers and crew from inclement weather, but the rest of the deck was full of cargo boxes, crates, and barrels.

“There’s not much room for you to lodge,” the harpy said, as they stepped aboard, “But we’ll be there in three days and the weather’s set to stay fair.”

“Thank you,” Virion said with a deliberate smile that ruffled her feathers a little.

She scowled at Rakasha though and croaked, “You keep your weapons sheathed and cause no trouble, orc.”

To Virion’s surprise, his companion only bowed her head and strode to the other side of the barge to stare off into the water as it sloshed past.

He joined her briefly and she turned her head a little as she admitted, “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“Hope you don’t feel sick,” he grinned. “If you do, I think I have some ginger somewhere in my pack.”

“I’d rather not chew on a tuber that’s been rolling around the bottom of your bag for spirits-only-know-how-long,” she snarled, but there was no venom in her tone now. “It’d probably make me sicker than the water.”

Their fellow travellers were not numerous, it being a cargo barge after all, but a small group of musicians was headed to the university town as well. Virion immediately settled down in their midst that evening after a day of reading one of the books he’d picked up in Sycamore Gap - the town where he’d first met Rakasha. He found himself welcomed by three tieflings, all with different skin colours and horns, and an enormous and extremely friendly firbolg. Rakasha kept very much to herself, but on their first night, when the group pulled out a bodhrán, violin, a small harp, and a flute, and started to sing, she looked up from the crate where she’d been seated for most of the day.

On the second night, the firbolg, named Aeqen, asked her if she’d like to come and have a drink with them, and she nodded gruffly, sitting cross legged on the deck beside the small barrel where Virion been perched.

Glancing down at her, he saw the way the fae-light in the lamps highlighted her cheekbones and glinted on her unadorned tusks. As if feeling the weight of his gaze, she looked up at him, and scowled. He laughed and handed her a beer from one of the tieflings, and she downed half of it in one go.

“Ready to make port tomorrow?” Aeqen asked conversationally, and began to beat a rhythm on the bodhrán in his lap. Liliana, one of the tieflings with freckled blue skin began to trill out a quick tune on her flute and in no time the other two tieflings were dancing.

He nodded. “It’s been a nice change of pace on the water though,” Virion said.

They sat finishing up their beers for a while, but every time Virion looked over at the firbolg, he saw the way the creature’s large eyes lingered on Rakasha as she sat there thoughtfully, her eyes on the dancing tieflings as if she’d never seen anyone dancing before. Assuming it was interest on the firbolg’s part, and that if anyone might have the physique to impress the orc, it would be him, Virion found that the dregs of his bottle tasted bitter, and he set it aside and stood, silently excusing himself and stalking to the back of the barge.

He was still sifting through the roiling emotions when someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned around to see Rakasha standing in the shadows, back lit by the fae-lamps further along the deck. “You alright?” she asked, her already husky voice gruff and quiet.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his back on her. “Just… wanted some air.”

“You want me to go?”

When he didn’t respond, she stepped closer to him, and they both felt the draw of their cursed rings. She put a hand on his lower back and tension ratcheted up his spine, one vertebra at a time.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her touch fluttering slightly.

Virion shook his head and the pressure of her warm palm returned for a moment before disappearing completely.

“I wish I understood you humans,” she said, chuffing a soft laugh and leaning her forearms on the railings, mirroring his posture.

“Let me know if I can help,” he said. “After all, you are leashed to one…”

She nodded but didn’t go any further.

The water slid by in a river of inky blackness, the reeds whispering at the edges.

Rakasha broke the silence again a few moments later and said, “I wonder if there are merfolk in these parts…”

“Probably,” he said. “They’ll be upstream of a city, for sure. I think I saw one of the alligator folk earlier. Their eyes reflect in the dark a bit like orcs’ do…”

He shot her a sidelong look and found that her golden eyes were indeed flashing in the dark like a predator’s as she stared at him.

“I was wrong about you,” she said quietly.

“Oh?”

“Mmm. Remember when I told you that I was doing my Wandering when I first met you?”

Virion nodded, but didn’t dare move a muscle in case he spooked this new, gentler side of her.

“I’ve not mixed with other species much,” she said.

That much was obvious, but he kept that to himself.

“I… I guess you could say I was - am - pretty naive…”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that,” he said with false politeness and they both laughed.

After a moment she continued. “I thought humans were… honestly pathetic. Most of you have so little muscle and you’re so damned fragile… but… you’re not, are you?”

“There’s more than one way to be strong,” he murmured, watching the reeds slip by in the dim glow cast by the barge’s lamps. “You want to go and dance?”

She laughed, and perhaps her cheeks darkened a bit, but it was hard to tell in that light. “I think I’ll just watch for now, if that’s alright.”

They returned to the small party, and while Virion sat on his usual barrel, Rakasha decided to lean her body up against it so that her head was almost touching his thigh. He found it hard to get to sleep that night, with thoughts of what her long, dark hair might feel like and what her skin might feel like against his. He thought that he should have been surprised to be thinking like that, to be seeing the orc in a new light, but if he were honest with himself, he’d admired her physically from the beginning. It was only now that he was starting to get to know Rakasha that he found himself fantasising about her a little though.

Grantbridge, the city that cradled the university in its midst, was vast. Rakasha was obviously completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people, the chaos and noise, the bustle, the clatter, the shouting and the smell of it all, but she never flinched or backed down. Perhaps surprisingly, however, she did follow Virion’s lead as they found their way - eventually - to the university, and at last were admitted to the professor’s study.

“Thank you for seeing us at such short notice,” Virion smiled, and the tall woman in a long, white robe grinned at him. Her skin was dark and flawless, and her black eyes glittered with warm intrigue. “I thought we might have to make an appointment and come back another day.”

“When the clerk informed me that we had a case of cursed rings on our hands - oh, please excuse the pun - I couldn’t refuse you, my dears,” she said. “Now, if you’ll let me examine them?” she asked, stretching out her hand, palm up.

Virion cautiously obliged first, and she turned his finger over, examining the markings on the band.

“Oh, yes,” she crooned delightedly. “I’ve heard of such rings! These are incredibly rare. See this inscription?” she said, pointing at the writing that neither of them had been able to read. They both leaned in and then nodded. “It’s in Ancient Telvhen - a precursor to modern High Elvish, which in itself is a very old language. Fascinating. And the dragons - I believe this alludes to a very old story from the Telvheni empire about a prince and a beautiful dragon shifter… Oh, I’d love to hear where you got them from, but that’s a story for afterwards perhaps. Let me translate the inscription for you.”

She slid a pair of half-moon spectacles onto her nose and cleared her throat.

“It is more or less as follows: ‘Each with different heart, together shall they part.’”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Rakasha asked, a heavy scowl weighing down her dark brows.

“Let me see yours, my dear,” the mage asked, not even batting an eyelid at her coarse language, and Rakasha obliged with a wary glance at Virion. He nodded and she gave him the ghost of a reassured smile. “Ah yes, look, the same inscription. And you’ve travelled together from Sycamore Gap to get here? Impressive.”

“Fuck how far we’ve come,” Rakasha snarled. “How can we get them off?”

Bile rose in Virion’s throat, fearing that if the orc continued to insult the mage she would refuse to help them, but the woman only laughed brightly and said, “Have you tried just taking them off?”

“Of course we did, you -” she began, but Virion cut her off with a thwack across her stomach. She turned to look at him, about to snarl something at him for hitting her, but when she saw the look on his face, she cursed in orcish.

“That, my dear,” the mage chuckled, “Is a phrase I will have to remember for the next time I’m in the company of the necromancers from the Chapter at Arlesford…”

Rakasha didn’t even respond as she watched Virion slide the ring easily off his index finger. “How?” he breathed, staring at her with his hazel eyes wide. “We couldn’t… We… They were…” Astounded - and a bit embarrassed - he couldn’t fathom it.

The mage smiled. “‘Each with different heart, together shall they part’” she quoted. “Might I be wrong in suggesting that the two of you have come to see things differently during the course of your journey here?”

At that, Virion and Rakasha exchanged a look. “Well… yeah,” he said, “But…”

“You mean we didn’t have to come all this way here?” she said. “That we could have just taken them off before now?”

“It’s hard to know when the magic left the rings,” the mage replied, turning back to her desk with a twinkle in her eye. “But I believe they have done their purpose…”

“And what purpose is that?” Rakasha asked. Virion noted that she had made no move to take her own ring off, but he thought that perhaps she was still too stunned.

It was Virion who answered. “To bring two people with different views together.”

“It’s a famous past-time amongst the meddling fae,” the mage said as she sat back down at her desk. “I might suggest that if you were to go back to wherever you came across these, you would not find things quite as you left them.”

“You couldn’t pay me enough gold to go back to that place,” Rakasha laughed. “So we’re free of the magic completely now?”

“As far as my not-inconsiderable abilities can tell, there is nothing left in those rings. They are but ordinary bands of silver. Do with them as you please, and go where you will. Though I suspect that if you take them off, you will not find them in your possession for long. These things have a way of finding new owners and new people to help…”

“Interesting way of helping,” Rakasha grumbled.

“Thank you for your time,” Virion said, his voice a little shaky.

“Pleasure,” the mage said. “Though I suppose I should be thanking you for helping delay the inevitable…” she eyed a stack of papers at the corner of her expansive desk and groaned, “First year exam papers…”

“Good luck!” Virion laughed, and they left her to her marking.

Outside the university, in the wide square directly opposite the main building, they stood and watched the stalls and stages going up for the festival which began that very night. Too stunned for conversation, they just stood there like additions to the statuary that lined the walls of the old university. A short while later, in a far corner of the square, they glimpsed the musicians with whom they had travelled downriver, and the giant firbolg even waved at them across the open space.

Rakasha waved back and Virion nodded.

“What now?” the orc asked as the musicians returned their attention to their preparations for the evening. It was the first time either of them had dared address the issue.

Virion shrugged. “I guess we could go our separate ways… no need for you to delay your Wandering by - what did you call it? - ‘babysitting a stray puppy’?”

Rakasha’s cheeks did darken to a beautiful olive green at that, and she kicked at a pebble beneath her feet, sending it skittering under the iron rimmed wheels of a passing waggon. Her fingers twisted the band on her finger as she said, “I think you know I don’t see you that way anymore…”

With a grin, he said, “We could stay here for a bit then?”

She nodded.

The first inn they found charged outrageous prices, so they went a little further back from the market square and found a boarding house run by a drider who was friendlier to non-humans and offered them surprisingly reasonable rates for her one remaining room. A double, as it happened.

“You mind sharing?” Virion asked and she grinned.

“Do you?” she fired back.

The festival was beautiful. Mage-crafted fireworks soared into the sky from the crenellations of the university building, and music played and people danced. There was a play that utterly entranced Rakasha, and after they had sampled from a number of stalls selling food from all over the continent, Virion even managed to coerce Rakasha into dancing with him, the two of them slotting into line at the end of a simple partner dance before it started.

It wasn’t complicated, and he found himself entranced at the way her eyes glittered in the low light and how her tusks glinted as she laughed.

They caught up with the troupe from the barge some while later, but Virion could hardly take his eyes from Rakasha. Her skin gleamed with a slight sheen of sweat from dancing, and she seemed almost a different creature now.

“Here,” Aeqen laughed, putting a flower crown around her head. “Perfect.”

She blushed like a temple virgin and tried not to look at Virion, which only made them all laugh.

Eventually, when they’d had their fill of festival sweets and vigorous dancing, they shared a look that said the same thing, and they left the square, heading through the streets to their little boarding house room. Rakasha took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

“You enjoy tonight?” she asked, and he nodded. The rings clicked softly together as the bands connected briefly in their intertwined hands.

“Yeah. You… uh…” he said awkwardly. “You looked…”

“What?” she laughed, her long hair loose and flowing down her back. She was still wearing the flower crown.

“Honestly… gorgeous…” he finished rather lamely, and she grinned, halting.

They’d paused in a tiny little square with barely enough room for a stone fountain in the space between the houses, but she drew him close and leaned down, tilting his chin up. His jaw bore the scruff of more than a few days without shaving, but she didn't seem to object as she tilted his face up and lowered her own towards him. Her eyes were incredible and he forgot how to breathe as she began to kiss him.

He reached his hands up into her thick, dark hair and gripped her so tightly she growled and drew back.

She quirked a questioning eyebrow and he nodded.

The two of them made their way back to the boarding house without stopping again, though Virion’s dark leggings definitely seemed a size too small.

Inside their room, Rakasha backed him into the door by way of closing it, and ground herself against him. He wasn’t short, but he felt more than a little dwarfed by her size and strength. Exhilarated by that, breathless, dizzy, and thrumming all over, he kissed her back, his hands wandering over her body, desperate for a touch of her skin.

He pushed her back, and she obliged curiously. Virion’s fingers slid under her loose tunic and she shrugged it off, bearing her muscular torso for him. He jutted his chin towards the bed and she backed slowly towards it, coyly undoing the laces at the top of her loose trousers. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and watched her slide the fabric - trousers and undergarments as one - free of her wide hips. Next came the fabric binding around her breasts. The muscles of her abs clenched as he reached for them and with a feather-light touch, he pushed her back onto the bed.

She parted her legs invitingly and he struggled out of his own clothing, abandoning it all on the floor beside the bed.

When he returned his attention to her, her fingers had slid between her legs and she was slowly circling her swollen clit, her golden eyes locked on him. Her other hand had cupped her breast and she pinched her hardening nipple between finger and thumb and he felt his cock twitch and swell.

Her eyes tracked the movement and she jutted her chin, trying to get him to come closer. He obeyed and ran his hand over the clearly-defined muscles of her thighs, watching the way her breath hitched visibly, her back arching at the drag of his fingertips over her dark green skin.

“Rakasha,” he said, voice husky and a little deeper. “Tell me what you want?”

“You,” she snarled. “I want you.”

His hand closed around his cock and he worked himself to full hardness while he watched her teasing herself. She was slick and wet and so inviting that it didn’t take long for him to kneel between her legs and line himself up with her entrance. Her lips parted and her jaw went slack, and he watched her throat work as she swallowed. He wondered what it’d feel like if she did that with his cock in her mouth, and it responded accordingly, twitching and leaking pre-come down onto her clit.

“Hurry up,” she snarled, bending one leg at the knee and shifting her hips invitingly. He didn't need telling twice.

As he slid slowly inside her tight heat, he rested his left hand on her bent leg, stretching her as he entered her, and she let out a deep, guttural moan. Her muscles clenched around him and he fought the urge to come like a virgin inside her already. Breathing deeply, he sank hilt-deep into her and paused.

“You’re so tight,” he gasped, leaning forwards head bowing.

Reaching for him, she grabbed his hair and snarled, “Move…”

Unable to deny her request, he rolled his hips back and forth, breathless at the sensations of her body around his, the slick heat of her. Sounds began to roll out of her as her chest heaved and she played with her breasts. She never took her eyes off his face though. He moved his thumb to her clit and circled in time with each thrust, and he felt her react to his touch immediately.

Her breathing quickened, chest heaving, and she arched and thrashed as he took her closer. White hot pleasure coiled in him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Picking up his speed, he altered his angle a little and caught that place inside her that made her cry out. Her tusks jutted upwards, her hands abandoned her chest and grabbed the sheets as she arched and writhed beneath him.

“Come for me,” she demanded, opening her eyes again, and as her gaze met his, his release ripped through him like a landslide. A second later, she followed him, and the clenching of her muscles around his cock drew out his own pleasure until he was shaky and weak all over. He fell forwards onto his elbows, breathing hard, barely missing her face as he collapsed on top of her.

Her hands found his back and began to trace idle lines over his skin while he panted, heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Playfully, she squeezed her inner muscles around him and he grunted a half-hearted complaint, which only made her laugh.

Eventually he rolled onto his side, grunting softly as he slid free of her, and she followed and tucked his body gently against her side. Her lips landed softly on his sweaty temple and she whispered, “Little human, did I break you?”

He shook his head, unable to form words just yet.

“You sure?”

“Shut up,” he grinned, considering elbowing her in the ribs, and she laughed.

“If someone had told me back at that bazaar that I’d be lying in bed with a human who had just made me come like that,” she said, “I’d have sunk my axe into them… probably…”

“Funny how the world works,” Virion said, his words slurring a little as an immense exhaustion washed through him.

He barely noticed Rakasha slipping free of him and cleaning herself up, only to return and draw the sheets up over them both. She curled up on her side, facing away from him, and he rolled over and nuzzled up against the bulwark of her back, inhaling the scent of her thick hair and the expanse of her soft green skin.

He let his hand play over the dip in her waist for just a moment longer, and then hugged himself a little closer before sleep claimed him and he sank willingly down into it.

—

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#female orc #orc #exophilia #monster girlfriend #orc x human

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

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Lady and the Tramp

I do not know why the chapters of this story suddenly got so long! I’ve just been unable to stop writing lately. Stress writing, mostly, which I hate to do because sometimes, that can send the story off track. Of course, it can also ignite some of my greatest ideas. Unfortunately, I never know until after y’all tell me what my stress writing came through with. 😭 At any rate, I definitely will cover the conversation later. I didn’t have the place in this chapter to do so. Your reviews are keeping me sane.

Lady and the Tramp

After the sophomore summer, Charlotte knew that she wasn’t going to be able to make anymore trips home. The amount of lab work that she would be doing, the conferences and a lot of the other workshops and stuff she had to do would pull most of her time and being Jasper’s #1 Fan would take the rest. He had several competitions, matches, and games. She was skipping every boxing match, because she didn’t want him doing it in the first place and had even told him that he should go back to kite disc, but without him, the school’s team dissipated and he didn’t have the time to commit to the league again.

Whenever it was Dodge-a-leen time, though, Charlotte was in the stands in brightly colored high waisted leggings with a Big Dog T-shirt, tied up in the back, and dog makeup on her face. She could do that deep voice barking that the fans often did, but she gave it a shot. With her tiny voice, it always stood out and everybody began calling her “Little Dog,” which Jasper loved, because that was his girl. She… had mixed feelings about it. She didn’t know that she cared for the nickname “Big Dog.” Henry used to call him that sometimes, but this was different. This nickname had come about from something that she still found embarrassing, though Jasper never had taken it as such. And also, she felt like Little Dog was a hop, skip and jump from being his bitch, and well… She guessed as long as nobody ever said THAT, she was fine.

Besides, he still called her Chef’s Kiss and she now called him F Sized. She didn’t explain it to other people, as it started out as a little inside joke during one of her sexy study sessions with Jasper. He couldn’t get the answers right, therefore wasn’t allowed to touch the parts. That was how it worked. A was her backside, B was her chest, C was down there, and D - he was able to take her hand and put on his down there. But, if he wasn’t getting the answers correct, there wasn’t touching. She moved or stopped his hand if it was going to the wrong spot. He was struggling with the mock test and began grumbling about how he’d “cockblocked himself with stupidity.”

While stupidity definitely was a turn off, Charlotte hadn’t viewed Jasper as stupid in a long time and she certainly hadn’t called him that ever since finding out that his stepdad did. Whenever he called himself that, she verbally redirected him. This particular study session, he said, “I have a humongous head with a stupid tiny brain in it.”

“You’re not stupid and if you were, your brain wouldn’t be smaller.”

“It is though. You know brains develop differently when kids have trauma, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” She fumbled over her words and managed to say, “I love your fun sized brain!” He loved that compliment. Fun Sized Brain was his new handle on Twitflash because of it.

“I appreciate that you said fun sized, because that is actually exactly what I think of your cute little body as!” She frowned. He smiled and explained, “Because you’re petite.”

“I got it.”

“You have a full sized heart, though!”

She smiled and shook her head, “See, I would have called yours friend sized, but I dig that full sized still fits the alliteration scheme.”

He took her hand and placed it on himself, “Mm hmm, and what is this sized?”

“Fuck sized,” she said, without a pause and they both started laughing. “By the way, the answer is D, so I’ll count that as correct.”

“I don’t remember the question…”

The only person she told the meaning of Jasper’s F Sized nickname was Henry, and she’d said, “Because his brain is fun sized, his heart is friend sized and his manhood is fu…”

“Let me stop you there, Champ,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “I’m glad that you two fixed everything. You’re not worried that it might go off track again?”

“No, we’ve done a lot of work together to make sure that we’re actually on the same page and have the same goals for us. PLUS, I got us affirmation journals. We decorated each other’s and we keep them, filling them up with greatness as we see it - like the good things we notice about each other, the positives that we see and the accomplishments made by one another. If we have negative times, one can invoke the affirmation journal and either read in it to reaffirm ourselves OR, if we’re that much in our feelings, the one of us that hurt the other will read affirmations to the hurt party. We haven’t had to use them… much, and we’ve both written a whole lot inside of them.”

“So, you two just carry around paper books and write every good thing in it that you can think about each other, so that if you argue, you’ll have the positives on record already to counter the bad feelings?”

“Bingo!”

“That’s… brilliant. Your idea?”

“Sort of. It was my idea to make it into this type of practice, but that was motivated by how Jasper got me not to break up with him. He let me see his life goals journal and I saw these really beautiful things that he’d written about me and it changed my heart. So, I thought of this idea for us to make a part of our love culture.”

“This is so stinkin’ cute. I can’t even bear it!” Henry said with heart eyes. “Ugh. I gotta find myself a lil’ nerd girl.”

“Find a lovable jock,” she advised.

“Jasper’s considered a jock, now?”

“I mean… he’s involved in the athletics program. Let me show you something, I think you’ll appreciate this..” She dug around for a book then showed it to the video call she had open with Henry. It was a red leather bound book with various rocks attached to it, kinda like it was bedazzled, but not with sparkly rocks, and the title was scripted on in some of Charlotte’s nice scripting: Jasffirmation Journal.

Henry gasped, “You did a fun pun!” “I did!” she cheered.

“That’s a nice journal. What are all those rocks?”

“Those are various forms of jasper that I procured myself on an excavation assignment.”

“You’re freakin’ awesome, Char.”

“I definitely agree with that, but thank you!”

“I gotta see what his looks like,” Henry said and texted Jasper to ask him to send him a pic of the affirmation journal he kept for Char. Within minutes, he received it. “OH MY GOD!” Henry said. Charlotte just smiled as Henry fawned over the realistic sketch of Charlotte with stars in her hair and coils that spelled: I’m Charstruck. “He did a fun pun too!”

“We worked with you and Ray for way too long,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he said, putting his phone aside. “Man, Jasper’s drawing is amazing. Is he taking art classes?”

“No. He’s a tattoo artist, though. Remember?”

“OH! He finished his apprenticeship. That’s cool. Will tattoos money put him through school?”

“One of his accounting major frat bros has helped him with his budget, which I used to do but hadn’t had the time to try to reorganize it, so this guy did. Jasper gets some funds from his fanbase, and he gets free stuff from local businesses and companies - like he’s got all this merch that he basically is a walking ad for and I keep telling him to see about talking to someone about sponsorship, but he’s just happy to get free stuff just for being popular and likable. I’m like, you can get paid to get free stuff for the same thing, Dude! So, he is doing just fine.”

“Does he have any tattoos? I’m not gonna get a tattoo from somebody who doesn’t have a tattoo, just on principle.”

“He’s got a few little ones,” she said.

“Really? What of?”

She smiled and sent Henry texts. She had photos of Jasper’s tats. The one on his arm, which was a blend of a lion and a bull with touching faces (because those were the animals of their zodiac signs and he’d designed the drawing), a Captain Man symbol on his left wrist, small enough to cover with a watch, if he had to for work or something, and the back shoulder that had Lady and the Tramp characters. “Dude… what?” Henry said, “Two of these are kind of big and why in the world did he get Lady and the Tramp tattooed on his body? Does Jasper realize that these are permanent?” “Yes, he does. He’s not an idiot. He got Lady and the Tramp because of the whole Big Dog, Little Dog thing. Lady and the Tramp is us.” She blushed.

“Awwww, well then it’s cute. I thought that he just liked the cartoon or something.” It’s shocking that he doesn’t have your name or something on him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Does he and you just didn’t show me?”

“No. But… he’s mentioned wanting to get a tattoo of me over his heart. I don’t know how he can. His chest is an erogenous zone for him.”

“His… OK! That makes all those hickies on his chest make more sense now!”

“Those what?” Her eyes were wide. How the heck did Henry know that she’d put hickies on Jasper’s chest? They DID discuss their sex life!

“I saw hickies all over him one time, senior week and he wouldn’t say anything about it to me. And scratches on his back. Is his back an erogenous zone too?”

“No. I just used to have a real problem keeping control of myself when I was finishing. But, he actually likes that kind of stuff, so win-win, I guess. Why are we so casually discussing this?” she wondered.

“We’re friends and it’s normal.” She nodded. She hadn’t really thought to discuss stuff like this before outside of Jasper, but it came out surprisingly smoothly when talking to Henry. She was able to talk a little more about things with him. But, they wouldn’t be able to see each other in person for a while. Their schedules were simply too demanding. She hated it, but it was one of the things that she’d mentally prepared for whenever she first left home.

Women make up 56% of the college population. 25% of college seniors are virgins. 32.5% of college relationships are long distance. 1 in 4 college students have an STD. 63% of college women hope to meet their spouse in college. By senior year, 72% of college students have hooked up. ⅓ college students have been on fewer than 2 dates. Quick Facts: One of the top reasons college students break up is cheating. College students prefer short-term, casual relationships over long-term relationships because it allows them to focus on their academic and career goals. Most college couples break up around spring break, summer vacation, and right before winter break. 28 % of married college graduates attended the same school, but only 2% of North American marriages are comprised of high school sweethearts.

With numbers like that, it was really easy for me to believe that with Jasper’s personality and follow through that we couldn’t possibly be a part of that 2%. And even if we had been, what about those other stats? How much of it would be applicable. Wouldn’t one of us hook up with someone? Wouldn’t someone cheat? Wouldn’t we break up? For a first time relationship to be the last one that you’ll ever have, these possibilities become more or less likely dependent upon what stage in the relationship I was in. It was a fluctuating scale, to be honest. But, by junior year, I definitely felt like I was in a confident place.

Jasper makes me proud, all of the time, His thinking has become much more critical. His plans make more sense. His ability to manage his time has improved. He’s been calling himself a “Textbook Leo,” which has been annoying, because the traits that you didn’t see before, it’s like he tries to make sure that he has them now. That’s fine for some things. Silly for others. But, he’s very focused and he’s going to be a very accomplished man. I believe that with all of my heart.

One of the last times that Henry was able to visit was whenever Charlotte first moved into her new apartment after Rush Week. Jasper helped her to pack, but got the pledges to move all of her things. The apartment that she found was closer to Jasper, in a nice sized townhouse style apartment within walking distance of the frat house, but of course, the guys had to go to another side of town to grab her things from her previous dormitory. Jasper’s little brother was responsible for overseeing - making sure nobody damaged or tried to steal anything, holding on to the keys of her dorm, and personally handing them to her after her things were cleared out and he’d locked up. Charlotte liked him. She was the reason that Jasper had selected him and he was closer to her than to Jasper, but only because it was hard to get close to Jasper, especially now that he believed himself to be a king.

Henry helped Charlotte to unpack, wishing that he still had that hypermotility. Dang, that would have made this a breeze. Charlotte had a lot of stuff and she was very particular with how she set things up. One area that he was intrigued by looked like a shrine of sorts, with a shelf in the middle, and she hung a photo of her and Jasper above it. “What is that?”

“My gift center,” she said, setting things there from a box marked Gifts From Jasper. “I keep stuff that Jasper gives me in an exposed and visible area. It helps the room to have a good attitude.” He made a confused face, but didn’t want to even ask. “I can feel the energy in these gifts, because I know the motivations and the emotions behind them,” she explained.

“You becoming all metaphysical on me?”

“Not all, but I definitely feel like… energy is something that can be manipulated by certain objects and intentions. Like, you ever meet someone and you can just feel that something is off about them? That’s how I was with Casper and I was absolutely correct about her, even though for a whole year she was nothing but pleasant to me, I knew that there was some negative vibrations there.”

“You do like tarot cards and stuff?” He asked.

“No. I don’t know enough about that area of spirituality and I honestly don’t feel like committing the time to learn.”

“Dang. I was gonna ask you to do a reading for me,” Henry joked.

“We can go to one. There’s a girl in the BSU that does them. I feel like she’s the real deal. She grew up in Louisiana in this matriarchal witch family. Though… I don’t know if witch is the right word. I can’t remember what she said. Jasper might, though. He’s fascinated by that stuff. They have an entire segment on the radio show for African spirituality and diaspora practices.”

“I… we should get a reading, just as a gag.”

“You don’t do it as a gag!” She complained, shaking her head.

“Okay, we can do it for real, then.”

“Well, I’ll have to see if she’s available. She has an online business, where she prepares spells and herbal roots and oils and jewelry and stuff. I’ll check her prices for the readings.” She grabbed her phone and Henry kept unpacking. They were bringing the empty, broken down boxes to the recycling bin whenever Jasper’s truck pulled up. They heard him before they saw him. The truck was always so loud, but it was old and cheap, so that was why he had it. He didn’t want to spend a lot of money on something that he only planned on driving for now. Charlotte began buying her reliable but affordable car in high school. She made regular payments on it to try to help build her credit and by the time she was ready to leave for college, it was paid off. It was a metallic gold hatchback and had horse decals on it. Jasper’s big orange truck had all kinds of bumper stickers and window stickers that he’d peppered it with. Henry turned up his nose, “Why is it orange?”

“That was the cheapest thing that he could find when he was looking, and he loves it. He says that he’s always gonna have orange vehicles, now.”

“WHY?”

“Probab;y because he’s an attention whore,” she said.

Jasper had a pretty booming speaker system in the truck and was blasting music, because that helped him not to hear the troubling sounds that the truck made. He turned off the car and got out with a little box, “Hey, Henry!” he said and waved at him. “Chef’s Kiss…” He slid the box to Henry and wrapped his arms around Charlotte. “Did New Henry give you your keys?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Did who?” Henry asked.

“His little brother,” Charlotte said.

“His name is Henry too?” Henry asked.

“No,” Charlotte said, but left it at that and asked, “What’s that?”

“A homewarming present,” Jasper said and took the box back. It made tiny whimper sounds and she noticed it had holes in it.

“Housewarming, and Jasper, is that a living creature?”

“You don’t have a house. You have an apartment, and no..” he opened the box and said, ��It’s TWO living creatures!” She looked to see two very adorable puppies with collars and tags… “Lady and the Tramp!”

“Wow. All I got you was a cake.”

“I prefer cake,” she said, then to Jasper, “Jasper, you cannot just give people responsibilities as a housewarming gift! I don’t have time to raise two dogs!”

“I’ll be here like everyday. All you’ll need to do is be happy to see them when you get home.” She bit her thumbnail and stared at him, displeased. That was what that face was. He knew that much. He handed the puppy box to Henry again, pulled out his life goals journal, unlocked it and made an X on the list, which made Charlotte smile, in spite of herself. “I am willing to take on all of the responsibilities parts of them. I’ll make sure they’re fed and clean and…”

“You need to make sure that they know how to use the bathroom before they are moving in here, Dude. I’m not cleaning up dog poo from any surface of my new apartment.”

“That’s fair,” he said. Henry was already petting the boxed puppies and taking photos when Jasper reached for the box. “I’m gonna let them run around in the back of the truck while I’m here. That’s where I got the dog house, anyway.”

“The…” Charlotte looked and saw the doghouse that she didn’t know where the heck he thought that he was putting in her apartment. She turned around and went into the apartment, leaving both dudes and both dogs outside.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell her that they’re both girls because I couldn’t find a male Schnauzer for Tramp. I don’t think she’ll like me naming a girl Tramp, but it’s symbolic.”

“I don’t think that Charlotte likes animals,” Henry said, climbing into the back of Jasper’s truck. “And, she seems more like a cat person, right?”

“She just doesn’t have the time to raise them, but she’s gonna love Lady and the Tramp, once they’re ready to be civilized.”

“She didn’t love Katelyn. She barely acknowledged that she was alive and Katelyn was effing adorable.”

“She took care of Katelyn all of the time! You just weren’t there to see it,” Jasper fussed.

“Why are you getting pissed?”

“I’m not. I’m just irritated that you’re acting like you still know her better than I do.”

“That’s not what I’m… I’m sorry. How are you doing? What season is it for your sports?”

“Wrestling season is October until March. Boxing events usually begin in March. I have Dodge-a-leen practices all year, but tournaments are late spring, usually. Thinking about reviving kite disc for good on campus and just having it be among frats and stuff. I miss it, but I had to give it up. I’d give up anything for Charlotte.”

“Is… that why you felt like you had to give me up?” Henry asked. Jasper gave him a look. “I just felt like we could all still be friends. Whenever you left for college, you were really on this ‘of course we’ll still be friends’ thing, but we haven’t talked out what happened.”

“What’s there to talk out? I apologized and you said, NBD.”

“I said NBD because you apologized, but that doesn’t mean it was resolved. Especially because you told me that I never reached out to you, then when I did, you weren’t available,”

“So, I was supposed to wait for you to decide that you had some need for me? I have things to do, too. Maybe I’m not saving Swellview, but I’m not sitting around waiting to mean something to you, either.”

Henry set The Tramp down and clasped his hands together, “I’m still the same dude who was willing to give up Kid Danger for you. I’m still the same person who took on a full shift at Cactus Con so you could be on a date! I’m still…”

“You’re still the dude who was having wet dreams about my girlfriend right before we got together and acted like I was being an asshole for not wanting you to sleep in the same bed anymore!”

“Okay. Okay. Well, I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable…”

“Being friends means respecting boundaries. This is the woman that I plan to marry. Your friendship makes me uncomfortable, but that’s not why you and me fell out. You and me fell out because whenever I expressed to you how I felt about it, you talked to me like I was a dumbass, and you accused me of mistreating Charlotte!”

“You were mistreating Charlotte!”

“That wasn’t the way to say it! When I’m trying to tell you what I don’t like or don’t want to happen and you respond that way, it makes me feel like not only did you not care about my boundaries, but you used her pain to try to attack me because you didn’t like me setting those boundaries! And… That’s just fucked up to do to both of us, yet I’m the only person who apologized for my behavior that night. I’ve been apologizing to people for standing up for myself for too long. I know myself better and I deserved better.”

Henry nodded his head and collected Lady to pet her and help him feel better. “That is a lot to process. That makes sense. I think you’re right and I never realized any of that before now, because we didn’t talk about it. But, no matter what kind of dreams I had about Charlotte years ago, mind you… I’d never try to do anything with her and even if I had, she’d shoot me down and probably clobber me. She’s been dickmatized by you since Day 1.”

“I don’t like…”

“I mean, she’s been enamoured with you. Most of the time we talk, it’s about your relationship and how much she loves you. I envy that and I would love to have that with someone, but that someone would never even cross my mind to be Charlotte. And I will sleep in my van before I make you feel that uncomfortable again, or before I won’t hear you out when you’re telling me about boundaries, or before I go without just kickin’ it with my bro for all this time. I’ve got an empty spot where you’re supposed to be, in here, Dude.” He pointed all of his fingers to his heart.

Jasper smiled and said, “You know how she got into her whole energy/vibrations thing? She was researching what Jasper meant, because she had this idea to gift me some Jasper stones and she wanted to know more about them. So, she read somewhere that Jasper is the “Supreme Nurturer,” a stone of grounding and stability, providing comfort and security, strength and healing. Its presence balances the aura to a level of wholeness and peace, and acts as a reminder that one is not here on the physical plane simply for oneself, but to bring joy and substance to others… and she said, “Babe… That is SO you!” And I cried and I started looking for the perfect ring… and she started looking into stones and energy and all that stuff.”

“She’s right, though, That is so you. Why do you think I miss you so much?”

“I missed you too.. I just couldn’t let go of my pride until you seemed like you really cared about what I was trying to tell you that I cared about.” They smiled at each other, then hugged it out.

“So… Did you find it? The perfect ring?”

“No. I think I may have to have it made.”

“Does she know that you’re looking?”

“I haven’t confirmed anything, but she’s the smartest person I know, so maybe.”

“Well, I won’t say anything, but damn it, I’d better be included on however it happens… Unless it's a private just you and her typed thing.”

“I’m trying to find the perfect way too…” Jasper admitted. “When you’ve been doing great things for somebody for a while, it’s hard to outdo yourself.”

“Yeah, the stuff that she brags on you about, I honestly don’t know how you can possibly top them, but you keep doing so, so…” Henry shrugged and sniffed around, “What is…”

“LADY!” Jasper said and Henry looked down at the puppy who peed on him.

“That’s awesome…” he said, sarcastically.

It was good for Jasper to have Henry back, The dynamics of their friendship had definitely changed, as Jasper was less determined to lay himself down for Henry, but he still loved him and having him and Charlotte around when it was time to meet his dad was encouraging. It was a 4 hour drive, so Charlotte drove the way to get to Henry and then Henry drove the rest of the way to Mr. Dunlop’s place.

Whenever they pulled into the address that had been given to Jasper online, the first thing that Jasper did was take the dogs to make waste. Henry and Charlotte were going to take them for a walk while he met up with his dad and not be too far away, in case he had to call on them.

Charlotte was carrying Lady because, “She gets excited and runs off too much,” but, they both had leashes, so Henry was confused, but didn’t bother.

Charlotte kept looking at the house, no matter how far they got from it and checking her phone. Henry realized that she probably was in protective mode. Whenever she thought her Jasper was in trouble, she was one feisty little woman. “Hey! Remember that time that Ray punched Jasper out and you came in and on sight, beat him up with your backpack?” She gave him a blank stare, unsure of why he was bringing that up. He smiled awkwardly. “That was funny to me… Albeit, terrifying.” He shut up.

“Trample, where you goin,’ Sis?” Charlotte said and Tramp turned around and came rushing back to her. “Here,” He said, handing Lady off to Henry.

“Last time I held her, she peed on me.”

“Dude, that was months ago.” Charlotte said, dismissively and picked up Tramp.

“They can walk and we have leashes, why do you keep holding them?” He asked.

“The musty lady in the apartments let her dogs free run beside her and one of them got hit by the public bus!” Henry gasped in horror and cuddled Lady close to himself. “Yeah. That public bus near the apartments is scary. I don’t want them to get used to just running around, unless I live somewhere with an open area and minimal vehicles. A college town is kind busy for that.”

He nodded, “Okay, okay… But… We’re not in town right now and I haven’t seen any vehicles since we got here. Let’s just let them use these for now and if something happens, we pick them back up.” She nodded and let him put the leashes on the girls and walk them. “Are you worried about Jasper, Dude?” Whenever she was worried, she was a little more high strung. She nodded. “His dad seems like he wanted to meet him. I think it’s probably going well.”

“Yeah, but… Jasper just got to where he’s able to balance his issues out with his current situation and I just don’t want anybody shaking him up and throwing him off of his center.”

“That’s not gonna happen as long as he has you. From how I understand it, you’re his center.” She took a deep breath and looked at the house again. “Let’s go back and see if we can check on him,” Henry suggested.

A dark skinned woman with a huge afro, in draping, colorful clothes and a lot of jewelry opened the door and smiled at them. Charlotte and Henry glanced at their car in the driveway, then the house, then the woman. Charlotte asked, “Is… Is Jasper Dunlop here?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” She said and opened up to let them inside. “They’re in the meditation room. Mind taking off your shoes? Also, we’ll bring the dogs out back. It’s fenced in and covered. Hawks won’t get to them.”

“Hawks???” Charlotte shrieked.

“Hawks WON’T get to them,” Henry repeated. “Thank you,” he said. “She’s kind of an anxiety mom.”

The Black woman said, “Well, I can make you some relaxation tea. It was helpful for Jasper. Passionflower with a little lavender and chamomile. You’ll calm down and also sleep like a baby tonight.”

“I… Are you a witch?” Charlotte asked.

“You can say that. I’m a healer, a practitioner of Hoodoo herbalism, tribal holistic care and divination.”

“Oh! Like your friend from Louisiana,” Henry said to Charlotte.

“They have a deep history with spirituality and healing in Louisiana, but I’m from Oklahoma. Descendant of African slaves and Native American slave owners, if you can believe it.While we were recently expelled from tribes as members, you can’t illegalize blood, therefore the magic of all of my ancestors is within me,” the woman said, nodding her head as she released the dogs from their leashes and helped them through a doggie door. “I began to seek out the meanings of my dreams and found a mambo who connected me to my roots. I began practicing, only first to see if I really had a gift, then years later, as a believer. It’s how I met Jack Leigh. He wanted help from some things and a friend told him about me. But, then he saw me and forgot what he wanted help with and asked me on a date, instead.” She laughed.

“I can see why,” Henry said.

Charlotte mumbled, “I can see why Jasper’s mom hates me.”

The woman shook her head, “Is there anybody that woman doesn’t hate?”

“Herself?” Henry tried to guess.

“I wish that were true. That’s where she has to begin her healing and until she does, none of her intentions will be corrected.”

“Are you Jack Leigh’s wife?” Henry wondered.

“I am so sorry! I never introduced myself. Adanna Blackfoot.” She shook both their hands and led them to a sink in the little side area of the kitchen that looked out into the backyard. Charlotte could see the doggie enclosure. There were all kinds of plants and flowers growing on the fence surrounding them. The three of them washed their hands and talked a little while. Charlotte was fascinated with Jasper’s stepmom, though she said she didn’t feel that was a fair title, because she only knew Jasper from afar and word of mouth. But, Charlotte still wished THIS was the woman who’d raised her man. He’d be so much more in love with himself, and not just faking it. They eventually made it to the meditation room and Jasper was happy to see them. “Sorry, was I taking too long?”

Charlotte met him with a hug and a kiss, “I was worried about you, but Adanna eased my mind.”

“She and Uncle Rox would be great friends,” Jasper said.

“Uncle Rocks?” Jack Leigh repeated, confused, because Jasper didn’t have any uncles by that name.

“My uncle Roscoe,” Charlotte said.

“Roscoe Bolton?” Jack Leigh asked. From their faces, he could tell that was who they meant. “Wait a minute… You mean to tell me that your fiance is The Bolt’s niece?”

“Uncle Rox just became infinitely cooler because he is known as The Bolt. Say more, right now!” Jasper said, excitedly. Charlotte was more on the we all just glazed by that F word, huh?

“Hell, The Bolt introduced me and Adanna! What’s he up to? I haven’t heard from that fool in years.”

“Still a fool,” Charlotte and Henry said, but Jasper had said, “He’s the best!” Charlotte looked at Henry and said softly, “So… did you hear him say…”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Okay. Tell me something,” she said and laughed a little. Fiancee? Was that how Jasper had described her? Because… YEAH - they most definitely were most likely gonna get married. She certainly hoped so, but they hadn’t discussed it in a solid form yet. It was more like how kids discussed graduation… an event that you look forward to and you know it’s happening and even have certain elements and dreams about it that you must include. But, not knowing what college you’d attend, what your GPA will be, what major you would choose. It was like, sure marriage was a real possibility, but it wasn’t something he’d asked her to do or something she had started preparing for - things that she associated with being a fiancee… Everybody was looking at her and she rewinded her mind a little to try to recall what they’d said in the background while she was in her thoughts. Think he’d mind if I got his contact info? “Uh, no. I’ll give him a call and verify, though…”

“Small world,” Henry said.

“It’s a huge world, but everything is definitely connected,” Adanna said, pouring the new brew of tea for the additional guests.

At some point, after a lot of laughter and stuff, Henry said, “Hey… Adanna, do you do like readings?”

“Not professionally,” she said. “I’ve limited it to friends and family, loved ones, for personal reasons.”

“Oh,” he said, sadly. “Char and I have been trying to make an appointment with her friend, but our schedules never line up with her available spots.”

“Well, for the two of you, of course, I would.” She said and smiled, getting up to retrieve her cards. Charlotte was staring at Jasper, still thinking about the F word and wondering what happened before they made it in. He’d definitely been crying at some point. He had his ‘crying bags’ under his eyes. He was in good spirits now, but she wanted to know what went on when she wasn’t there to protect and comfort him. He looked back at her and made a confused face. He was wondering what she was thinking about. She mouthed ‘I love you,’ to him and watched the smile on his face beam. “I’m so lucky,” he said out loud. Jack Leigh smiled at the two of them. Beautiful couple. Wonderful boy. He’d really messed up missing out on shaping him.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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silvertip-studio · 6 years

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hi can u do a fic where theres a cute irish boy that works in a flower store and theres a rly hot muscular guy that works at a tattoo parlor with his sister next-door and they fall in love over mutual bonding over a certain flower (i like bell flowers)

Ok, this is actually Stryker bc she’s been bugging the hell out of me to finally post some of my OCs. So, here’s a random one-shot that I had written of two of my characters!!! Enjoy :)

Flowers made Ruairi happy. They were Mother Nature’s gift to the world, and were able to bring joy and life in even the darkest of places. Not only that, but there were millions of different variations of them, just like there were millions of different variations of people. It was the perfect system. His shop was brightly lit with large glass windows, and different flowers were scattered across the store. While it would appear disorganized to an outsider, he knew where every plant was and had clearly signed it so that shoppers could find what they were looking for.

Right next door to Ruairi’s shop was a very different store. It was a tattoo parlor. It had clean lines, and was perfectly organized. There was a station where two large, leather bound books of tattoo designs were clearly labeled, the walls had tattoo designs hung in cleanly cut, black frames, and there were tattoo chairs in the back or private rooms along the back wall. It was pristine, and Ruairi couldn’t help but say that he admired the organization every time he walked by to get to his car.

Of course, he had never gone in. No, he had no reason to go into a tattoo parlor, even if he admired the owners organization and the general aesthetic of the store. In fact, he had no idea who even owned the parlor, only that there was a super cute, or could he classify him as hot, tattoo artist that worked there everyday.

Ruairi was daydreaming about the brown haired, broad, muscular, blue eyed tattoo artist when his doorbell jingled, signaling the entrance of a customer. When he looked up he smiled brightly at the panicked looking man before him. He was in a pair of skinny jeans and a black t-shirt, his black hair was messy and unbrushed, and his green eyes were wide with fear.

“Hi, how can I help you today?” Ruairi grinned, glad that he never had to worry about getting flowers for a significant other since he owned the store, and since he didn’t have a boyfriend. However, he did sympathize with all of the poor souls who had come to his store in panic over the years.

“Uh, yeah, it’s my girlfriend’s birthday and her present isn’t coming for another two days, so I need something to give her!”

“Ok, does she like flowers? A specific type of flower, maybe?”

“No, not really. When we first started dating I got her flowers and she gave them to her mother.” The man sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“So, then why do you think getting her flowers is a good idea?”

“I don’t know. I’m desperate.” he ran a hand down his face. “She’s going to get home from work in a few hours, and I have nothing.”

“Lemme see what I can do.” Ruairi offered, then began wandering through the packed aisles of flowers. He scanned them, hoping to hear the customer that was trailing him make a noise of triumph when he saw one that his girlfriend might like. When he had walked the majority of his store with only one bouquet even slightly catching the customer’s eye, he turned to the man with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I have for someone who doesn’t like flowers.”

“Fuck.” his hands found residence in his hair and pulled. Ruairi watched helplessly as the man all but sank to his knees.

“Does she like tattoos? ‘Cause, there’s a parlor right next door.”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s her brother’s…and she works there. I can’t exactly go get a gift card for her when she already gets the family and employee discount.” he sighed.

“Have you asked her brother what kind of flowers she likes?”

“No, but I’m gonna now.” he turned and left the store without another word. Ruairi shook his head and laughed. It was always crazy watching what people did out of desperation. He was returning to his little counter when he heard his doorbell jingle again. When he turned, the breath was nearly knocked out of him. Beside the black haired man was the tattoo artist that Ruairi had been fawning over for the past year.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “I-I mean hi.” Ruairi raised his hand in a half wave and felt a hot blush rise on his pale, freckled cheeks.

“Hey,” the artist smiled, glancing over at his friend hesitantly before continuing, “I’m Ryan.”

“Oh, I’m Ruairi.” he stepped forward and extended his hand to Ryan, praying that his hands weren’t sweaty. Ryan’s grip was strong, and Ruairi could see the veins of his muscular hands. It was then that Ruairi realized that the tattoo artist wasn’t wearing a sweater, or sweatshirt, or flannel which he usual wore in and out of the shop. No, he was in nothing but a tank top. A tank top that showed off the thickly corded muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders, as well as the tattoos that decorated his upper arms and shoulders. God, how had Ruairi not seen his upper body before?

“Um, yeah, so I’m Matt, by the way.”

Ruairi quickly pulled his hand back from Ryan’s, looking over to Matt who, damn him, was smirking at the two flushed men. “Yeah, so, Ryan, you’re Matt’s girlfriend’s brother, so you should know her favorite type of flower, right?” The red-headed florist scratched at the back of his neck.

“Oh, well, she’s never really been a flower person. No matter what my mother tried, Erin never quite got flower fever, or whatever. No, she always hung out with my dad and I.” Ryan chuckled, his eyes glazing over a bit as he thought back to his childhood alongside his sister.

Ruairi hated to interrupt his reminiscing, but he figured he couldn’t stay away from his shop too long, so he pushed on, “Well, do you wanna walk around with me, and maybe see if I have anything that could possibly fit the bill?”

Ryan nodded, and the two began wandering the store, Matt trailing behind them. Occasionally, Ryan would point out a bouquet with a smile, but most of the time it was about a tattoo he had done and not about Erin. Despite these anecdotes being useless, Ruairi smiled at the brown haired man. It was interesting to learn about how their, oh so different, professions overlapped.

Ruairi was about to lose hope in their mission, when something seemed to catch Ryan’s eye. When he looked at the bouquet that Ryan was reaching for, he was pleased to see that the man had chosen his favorite flowers. So, he took the bellflowers from him, ignoring the way his heart fluttered when his fingers brushed Ryan’s. He quickly rung up and wrapped the flowers, handing them off to Matt with a smile. Then, he turned to Ryan, “So, why bellflowers?”

“Oh, my dad used to always buy them for our mom, and so they were always around the house. I’m hoping they’ll remind her of Dad the same way they remind me of him.” Ryan shrugged, looking at the purple flowers with a fond expression.

“Here, why don’t I throw in an extra bouquet for you? On the house.” Ruairi wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, but it felt like the right thing to say. He definitely knew it was the right thing to say when Ryan’s face lit up with a smile and color flooded his freckled cheeks.

“I couldn’t.” he waved the offer away.

“I insist.” Ruairi was already running off to get the bellflowers, returning through the crowded store to find Matt whispering in Ryan’s ear and laughing. He had to hold back his chuckle when Ryan slapped the taller man on the arm and hissed something back, which only made Matt laugh harder. “Here you go.” Ruairi quickly wrapped the flowers and held them out towards Ryan.

“Ok, but you’ve got a free tattoo whenever you want.”

“One bouquet of flowers is hardly worth the same as a tattoo!” Ruairi protested.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep giving me flowers.” Ryan smiled, then dismissed himself. After all, he couldn’t leave his shop unattended for longer than he already had.

After that, it became typical to find Ryan stopping in at Ruairi’s flower shop to pick up a bouquet of bellflowers and talk for far too long. Each bouquet was proudly displayed on the front desk of his parlor for all to see, not that Ruairi knew since he never visited the tattoo parlor. At least he never visited until one day he barged in with a grand idea.

“I’m gonna take you up on that tattoo!”

Ryan’s head popped up from where he had been studying a drawing a client had sent him. He looked at Ruairi, stunned for a second, before a grin spread across his face. “Finally. What do you want to get?”

“Ok, first lemme explain, ‘cause you’re gonna think it’s weird.” Ruairi said. “They’ve been my favorite flowers for years, and it’s just coincidental that it—“

“What flower is it, Ruairi?”

“Bellflowers.” Ruairi said, flushing red, “They’ve been my favorite flowers since I was little because my favorite color was purple and I thought they looked like bells. I mean of course they look like bells, they’re bell-flowers.” the red-head spoke so fast that Ryan had to strain to keep up, only managing it because of his years listening to Erin speak impossibly fast. Although, the lingering Irish accent put a strain on even Ryan’s skilled ears.

“Hey, dude, it’s totally fine. First of all, I’m not going to judge you for liking flowers, for fucks sake you own a flower shop. Second of all, I noticed when I chose them for Erin that first day that you got really excited about them. So, I kinda already figured they were you favorite.” Ryan soothed, chuckling slightly at the dramatics of the Irish man.

“Oh, ok cool.”

“Also, we can be tattoo buddies!” Ryan laughed, leaving Ruairi to stare at him in confusion. Of course, Ryan picked up on this confusion and explained, “Look, I have a bellflower tattoo too.” He turned his head and moved some of his messy hair out of the way to reveal a small bellflower tattoo right behind his right ear.

Ruairi blushed, staring at the tattoo with a slack jaw. How had he never noticed the tattoo during any of Ryan’s many visits to the flower shop? “I don’t know. Isn’t that weird?”

“Nah, people have matching tattoos by accident all the time. So, what’s the difference?” Ryan waved him off, already standing from the desk and walking over to the leather-bound tattoo design books. “C’mon, I have a few bellflower designs in here from when I got this. Plus my sister, Erin, has one too, so there are a lot of different versions in here from our brainstorming sessions. Trust me, she just couldn’t quite ‘vibe’ with one.”

As he said this, a girl appeared from the back room. Her shoulder length brown hair was braided back, and she was wearing a barely buttoned red flannel and ripped skinny jeans, and her ears were decorated with glinting piercings. “Are you slandering me?”

“What!? Of course not.”

“I totally believe you.” she threw the towel she was holding at his head. Ryan caught it and glowered at her. Watching the sibling’s squabble reminded Ruairi of his sister, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the fond memories.

“What?” Ryan turned back to him.

“Nothing, you two just remind me of my sister and me.”

“Ah, so you know my struggle as well!” Ryan laughed, throwing the towel back at his sister.

“Struggle my ass!” Erin tossed the towel onto the desk, before joining them at the design books, “Since my loser big bro isn’t going to introduce me, I’m Erin,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake, and he couldn’t help but notice the vast array of rings decorating her fingers. He shook it, noting that she also had a firm grip.

“Ruairi.”

“Ah, flower shop dude, nice.”

“You know me?”

“Of course I know the guy who saved my boyfriend’s dumb ass.” Erin laughed, “Plus Ryan hasn’t—” she was cut off when Ryan jumped up and covered her mouth with his hand. The rest of her words were muffled into his hands. Ruairi looked between the siblings in confusion, positive that he was missing some key part of the conversation. When Ryan removed his hand from Erin’s mouth he hoped to be enlightened, but he was almost cast further into the darkness. “Fuck, ok. So, sensitive.” she poked her brother in the ribs with a teasing smile.

“What?” Ruairi finally asked.

“Oh, nothing, just that I of course know the guy who keeps giving my brother his favorite flowers!” Erin waved her hand at the bellflowers on the desk. Up until that point Ruairi hadn’t noticed the familiar flowers, and when he turned to see them proudly displayed, he gaped. He had never expected Ryan to actually put the flowers anywhere in his store, let alone front and center.

Ryan smacked his sister in the arm, but then turned to Ruairi with a smile. “I mean I told you they’re my favorite flower, and they give the shop a bit of color, so, yeah.” he said, turning away from the florist and scratching the back of his neck. When he turned back he said, “Anyway, let’s get back to your tattoo.”

“Ooh, he’s getting a tattoo?”

“Yeah, Erin, that’s why he’s here. What else would he be doing?”

“Well, he could’ve been visiting his—"

“Don’t you have a client to talk through tattoo care?” Ryan cut her off as he flushed red. Erin shrugged, but retreated back to the private room nonetheless. Both men stared after Erin, too scared to look back at each other considering the implications of Erin’s comments.

Finally, Ryan broke the silence. “So, bellflower designs. Of course, I’ve got my favorite design behind my ear, but my second favorite, is this one.” he flipped open one of the heavy books to a page that was covered in various pictures of bellflowers. For a second, he scanned the page, then pointed to one of them. It was two bellflowers with their stems overlapping and twisting together to form a heart. “I mean, we can change what the stems do if you want, but yeah.”

“No, no, I love it.”

“Ok, cool.” Ryan noted the design’s number in a notebook, “When do you want to get it done?”

“Oh, um, when are you free?”

“I could do it tomorrow evening, after closing, that way you don’t have to close early.”

“You-You’d do that for me?”

“Yeah of course,” Ryan hesitated, “you’re my friend.”

Ruairi didn’t quite know why, but his spirits drooped a little. However, when Ryan smiled at him, he felt them lift again.

“One, final, but really important question.”

“Shoot.”

“Where do you want it?” Ryan laughed when Ruairi’s mouth fell open. The florist hadn’t thought about that. So, he made a split second decision, and tried his best to pass it off as having been planned.

“On the inside of my forearm, I’m not totally sure which one though,” Ruairi extended his arms and turned them over so that he was baring the area to Ryan. He watched as Ryan shifted into artist mode, studying each arm and then thinking.

“I think I’d go with left arm.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Once they had discussed some of the details of Ruairi getting his first tattoo, Ruairi returned to his flower shop. However, he found it ridiculously hard to focus on caring for both his plants and his customers, instead daydreaming about the man who was going to give him his first tattoo tomorrow.

**********

Ruairi closed down the flower shop in a hurry. He’d spent the whole day in excited anticipation of the evening. When he walked into the tattoo parlor, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were aching. However, the tattoo artist was nowhere in sight. “Ryan?” It took a few seconds, but Ryan suddenly emerged from a back room that Ruairi had never realized was there.

“Ah! My favorite client!” Ryan smiled brightly at the Irishman, and waved him over to one of the chairs in the back of the shop. It was already set up for Ryan to give him the tattoo. Ruairi seated himself in the chair and discarded his sweater so that he was in nothing but his t-shirt, arm resting on the armrest. Ryan cleaned off the inside of his forearm with disinfectant. “You ready?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Good to hear.” Ryan brought the needle to Ruairi’s skin and started the long, painful process. Immediately, Ruairi had to grit his teeth against the searing pain lacing through his arm. When he glanced up at Ryan’s face he was immediately comforted. His tongue was sticking through his teeth and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Ruairi couldn’t help but find it endearing. “We can talk if that makes it easier. A lot of people like to talk.”

“Ok, yeah.” Ruairi agreed. However, what he didn’t expect was for them to end up playing twenty questions. He didn’t expect to learn that Ryan’s first kiss was a boy named Alex in freshman year of high school, nor did he expect to tell Ryan that his first kiss was with a boy named Derek in his sophomore year of high school.

When Ryan finished the tattoo, Ruairi still had one question that he was dying to ask. So, once Ryan walked him through taking care of the fresh tattoo, he asked. “Can I see your tattoos?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he could take them back.

“Yeah, sure.” Ryan said with a smile, and Ruairi was immediately comforted. “Can I ask why?”

“Oh,” Ruairi blanched, “I don’t know, I was just curious. Just, I don’t know, I’ve never really seen them all and I’m…I don’t know.”

“Whoa, hey, don’t worry, I totally get it. When I got my first tattoo I was super curious about other people’s tattoos too.” Ryan gave him a reassuring smile then pulled his t-shirt over his head. Now, Ruairi could see so much more of Ryan than he had been able to see when he wore the tank top, and Ruairi knew he’d made a mistake in asking. Especially as he stared at the wolf head on Ryan’s left shoulder, then the mountain range on his back, and then the three patterned bands circling his right bicep.

“Wow.”

“You like?” Ryan looked over his shoulder at Ruairi, who was still staring at his tattoos. He smiled, proud to see the awestruck look on Ruairi’s face. When Ruairi saw Ryan smiling at him he nodded, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Do you want to see some of my other ones?”

“You have more?”

“Hell yeah.” Ryan laughed, turning to face Ruairi and lifting up his left arm to reveal four hearts forming a four leaf clover on his ribs. Then, he lowered his arm and turned it over to reveal a tree that appeared to grow from the inside of his wrist up his forearm. Ruairi couldn’t hold back any longer and reached out his hand, lightly touching the tree. His fingers traced up the trunk and then the branches of the tree. He realized what he was doing and was about to pull his hand away when he felt Ryan’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“I-I’m sorry, I got distracted and—“

“No, no, it’s perfectly ok, Ruairi,” Ryan whispered, keeping Ruairi’s fingers pressed to his tattoo. Ruairi instinctually stepped closer, head still bent down to look at where his fingers were tracing the tattoo. Suddenly, Ryan’s hand was no longer holding his wrist, but tilting his head up to look at him. Then, Ryan’s lips were pressed to his and Ryan’s hand was in his hair, pulling Ruairi down into the kiss. Ryan pulled away from him, eyes still closed and breaths coming in pants. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.“

“No, Ryan, I’m—it’s…fuck it,” Ruairi surged forward, one hand on Ryan’s cheek as he bent back down to kiss the tattoo artist. His other hand moved up Ryan’s arm to his bare back, pulling him flush against his chest and deepening the kiss. With the reassurance that Ruairi shared his feelings, Ryan pushed Ruairi against the wall of the parlor. Ryan’s hands shifted from Ruairi’s hair to his shoulders, holding him against the wall as his mouth shifted to Ruairi’s jaw, then neck. “Mm, Ryan, fuck,” his hand had moved into Ryan’s hair and he tugged on the strands when Ryan nipped at the sensitive skin of his pulse point, “Not here.”

Ryan finally pulled away from Ruairi just enough to speak, “What?” he asked, resting his head against Ruairi’s collarbone and nuzzling his nose against the base of Ruairi’s throat.

“Come over to my place. We can have dinner, and continue this more comfortably.” Ruairi breathed, pressing a gentle kiss to Ryan’s cheek and trailing his hand down to rest loosely against the side of Ryan’s neck. After a few seconds, Ryan nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Ryan pulled away, then went up on his tiptoes to place a quick, chaste kiss on Ruairi’s lips. Then, he grabbed Ruairi’s hand and dragged him out of the tattoo parlor to Ruairi’s waiting car.

*************

“Somebody got laid!” Erin sung leaning over the front desk of the parlor as Ryan walked in, fifteen minutes late.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan scowled at her.

“Oh, c’mon, you guys weren’t even subtle.” Erin came around to the front of the desk, standing in her brother’s path, “The shirt you forgot in the heat of the moment,” she held up the shirt he had abandoned the night before, “And, oh, what’s this?” she pushed the hood of what she guessed was Ruairi’s sweatshirt off of his head, “Hickeys! You and Ruairi sure had a fun night.”

“Shut the fuck up, Erin.”

“Seriously? Ryan, if you’re going to have a make-out session in the shop at least have the decency to own up to it, or delete the security footage!” she cackled, dancing away from his attempt to smack her.

“Shut up, it’s none of your business.” Ryan grumbled. At that moment Ruairi walked into the parlor, a fresh bouquet of bellflowers in his hand. Erin hid a smirk behind her hand as Ruairi came up behind Ryan, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I got you fresh flowers, love.”

Ryan blushed, shooting a glare at Erin before turning to face his new boyfriend. “Thanks, babe.” he took the flowers and swapped them out for the old ones that had still been in the vase. When he turned back around, he found that Erin had approached Ruairi.

“So,” Erin started, and Ryan dreaded whatever she was about to ask, “can I see the tattoo?” Ryan sighed with relief and Erin was already looking excitedly at the part of Ruairi’s arm that was covered in a bandage.

“Oh, yeah. Ryan did an amazing job!” Ruairi grinned, peeling away the bandage to expose the fresh looking tattoo to Erin. She smiled, taking in every aspect of the tattoo, from the intricate petals all the way to the heart that the stems formed.

“I love it! And look, we’re tattoo buddies!” She pulled off her purple flannel to show him the ring of bellflowers that circled her bicep. Ruairi noted that, like her brother, she was cut. Erin also had tattoos decorating her arms and shoulders, and he saw the edge of a tattoo peeking out from the back of her racerback. “Ryan, you’re the odd one out!”

“What? But he has a bellflower tattoo too.” Ruairi protested.

“Yeah, but not one on his arm like us!”

“Wow, if it means so much to you, Erin, I can get one on my arm.” Ryan sighed, leaning back against the front desk. “Where would you like me to get it?”

“Ooh, you’re letting me do this!” Erin was shocked, but she quickly transitioned into smiling with glee at her brother, “Sit down! I’m doing this now.”

“Erin, what about actual clients?”

“We don’t have any appointments for a couple of hours!” she argued, “Don’t worry, Ryan, it’s gonna be great!” Erin tugged on his arm, attempting to drag him back to one of the chairs. He resisted, raising his eyebrows at her.

“I think I’ll leave you two to it.” Ruairi began to back away towards the exit, “I have to actually open up my own shop.” he smiled and gave them a half wave.

“Wait!” Ryan broke away from Erin and raced after Ruairi, grabbing his hand and pulling him into his chest. He pressed a quick kiss to Ruairi’s lips, then mumbled against them, “Have lunch with me?”

“Of course.” Ruairi smiled, gave Ryan one last kiss, then left the parlor.

“I ship it.” Erin cooed as soon as the door shut behind Ruairi.

“Fuck off.”

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that-shamrock-vibe · 6 years

Text

TV Review: The Flash (Spoilers)

Season 5, Episode 9: Elseworlds - Part 1

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the day the episode becomes available to stream online so if you haven’t seen it yet or are waiting for the entire crossover to air before watching then don’t read on until you have done that.

Overview:

I cannot tell you how much I got a kick out of this episode. I have not done any TV reviews for a while because of my university commitments but I did partially review Crisis on Earth-X last year and wanted to review this crossover because of what is promised but also because it’s the big superhero event on the small screen. I love an elseworlds story in any genre and show/movie that I watch, I love it when they do parallel worlds and alternate realities, I love it when they have dream worlds and any situation or story where the characters we know and love are portrayed differently. This wasn’t exactly that, but it was still so good. I loved the comedy, the Easter Eggs, the callbacks to previous seasons and the change in dynamic, but also I LOVED the new additions to the Arrowverse and will be talking about them down below.

Freaky Sunday:

So I was going to call this a Freaky Friday before thinking it would be funnier to say Freaky Monday but then realized this episode would have aired yesterday so am calling it a Freaky Sunday. Anyway the movie I am parodying is referenced by Barry because of the situation that he and Oliver find themselves in at the start of this episode.

At the very start of this episode we have that same clip that played at the end of Supergirl, Arrow and The Flash last week, so this is now the fourth time I saw it, which shows John Wesley Shipp’s Flash who he portrayed nearly 30 years ago struggling over a warzone of Easter-Eggs, I mean dead heroes, and speeding away from a weird man with a destiny changing book. This man is called The Monitor and I will talk about him when he is focused on more.

Fortunately this isn’t all of the opening scene otherwise I would have been very annoyed and the rest is Oliver waking up in Barry’s bed with Barry’s wife Iris calling him for breakfast. Oliver is now Barry Allen and has his life including speed, wife, friends and most likely job. The interesting thing is even though this an obvious re-written reality, the same storylines that have been happening in all seasons are still going on. So Oliver has just got out of prison, joined the SCPD as a vigilante and now finds himself as Barry Allen the Scarlet Speedster of Central City. It was funny watching him grasp this realization and to be fair to Stephen Amell he does allow himself to have some much needed fun this episode after all the doom and gloom he has been through this season.

However, because he’s new to the speedster game, he almost screws up in thwarting a robbery attack on Ivo Laboratories. Whether or not this new reality created Ivo Laboratories in Central City or not isn’t confirmed but this is a place that has never been mentioned in previous episodes.

Regardless, despite giving the wrong vigilante line before stopping the bad guys, he does stop them with an impressive trick shot of his lightning throw. How he knew how to do that without guidance is a mystery but I digress. Also for any comic-book fan that knows Ivo is a reference to Professor Anthony Ivo, they’ll know the robot Oliver’s lightning bolt accidentally hits.

But then we arrive at S.T.A.R. Labs, which has not changed, and Oliver is scanned for abnormalities I’m presuming because his takedown of the bad guys was unlike Barry’s normal quality, yet to all the brilliant minds in that room, as well as Iris and Ralph, no one can deduce that Oliver is not Barry. Oliver and Barry are the only two on their Earth that seem to not have had their memories affected by this altered reality...so naturally Oliver goes to find Barry to try and make sense of the situation.

We then cut to Star City and Barry seems to have woken up in the middle of a sparring match with Diggle at ARGUS. I have to say, I am slightly confused about John’s position at ARGUS, I know Lyla is the director but does that make John the Deputy or Acting Director as Lyla never really seems to be there?

Anyway, Dig thinks Barry is Oliver and Barry knows he is Barry but when he discovers his body has been changed by this altered reality due to his tattoos, he too suspects something is up. However there isn’t time to contemplate this fully like Oliver did because he is told to suit up as Green Arrow is needed on an ARGUS mission...Green Arrow who was almost arrested last week for being an active vigilante before joining the police force as their agent is suddenly allowed to join ARGUS in a mission...logic!

As with Oliver, Barry takes to his new vigilante fighting skills rather well, possibly because the basis of vigilantism is training in fighting and coordination, but after subduing the threat he and Diggle are sped away by Oliver. Diggle throwing up after speeding is still funny but just seems like it is in there as a cheap Easter Egg.

Somehow ditching Diggle, Oliver and Barry go to the disused Arrowcave which made a return last week and while Oliver has his serious face on trying to understand their current predicament, Barry is weightlifting up that old bar pole that my sister used to get a kick out of every time Oliver used it...Barry has used that pole before and with super speed so has done it better than how he is doing it now so why he was so happy with it I don’t know.

I did like how Oliver was trying to get Barry to be serious because it is very telling of the tone the two shows have. Arrow has always been rather dark and like a Batman story whereas The Flash has always been more like a Marvel Movie or Superman pre-DCEU. However on this point I have to say I was on Oliver’s side because the situation is these two are currently not themselves and Oliver wants his life back, funnily enough after Oliver lets slip he woke up with Iris that morning Barry gets his serious face on.

This early mid-section of the episode is where I lose a lot of respect for Team Flash because they know of the multiverse, time travel and Flashpoint yet they don’t quite grasp the fact that maybe something happened to change reality so that Barry is now Oliver and Oliver is now Barry...none of them, you have a biochemist, a mechanical engineer, two detectives and a journalist yet no one has the perception to even conceive that what two people they know rather well is telling them is a possibility?

Also, when this is all over and fixed and Oliver is Oliver and Barry is Barry, Iris needs to sit down with Oliver and talk out their differences because I did not know Iris had this much dislike for Oliver. I can’t even call it dislike because she must like him on some level, I mean she openly admitted to fancying either him as Oliver or the Green Arrow during the Invasion! crossover but here, because of what has happened to Oliver recently, she cannot seem to get her head around loving Barry as Oliver because the Oliver she knows who in actual reality is at this point her Barry is a man of pain and vengeance. I do like how this is picked up with the two guys later but I’m getting ahead of myself. Iris needs to sort herself out.

Because of Iris distrusting this situation she drugs the man she supposedly loves while Ralph knocks out the man he believes is Oliver and they are locked in a cell in the Pipeline. I love the fact that because they’re not really catching Metahumans of the week anymore these crossovers are really the only time we see the inside of these cells.

I love how Barry and Oliver interact in this episode and the prison scene is one of my favourites because they have to play to each-other’s strengths due to the fact they have each-other’s abilities. Barry dislocating his thumb was hilarious not just because of how it looked but also because Oliver was so blahzay in telling him to do it just like it was a walk in the park. “Just break your thumb, your body has been conditioned by Anatoly in this reality so you can do it”. Also Oliver’s reaction to actually seeing a broken thumb was slightly bizarre because surely he would have seen his own thumb before. Oliver phasing through the door was slightly overkill because he hasn’t found the breaks on his speed yet, also why was everyone so confused by phasing in this episode? It’s a cool power to have, it can get you out of prison cells, or stop a plane from crashing into buildings. One thing I didn’t understand is Barry said the cell was designed to dampen powers so how was Oliver able to phase?

Anyway regardless of continuity errors they escape and plan to use the only interdimensional extrapolater they have left, despite Sherloque breaking it I’m guessing they fixed it, to go to Earth Thirty-Eight to get Kara’s help. Iris apparently predicts this and beats them to getting the extrapolater...incase anyone isn’t paying attention I don’t like Iris in this episode, I don’t know why but something about her just seems off.

Barry however finally manages to get through to his wife by recalling a memory only they would know and finishing it off by calling her his lightning rod, which he told Oliver to call her and he called stupid, and agree I agree with him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for sentiment but I never understood the lightning rod metaphor. I guess it’s how lightning conducts to the rod as an analogy for how Barry would always return to Iris but it just never sat right with me. It does with Iris though and she gives Barry the extrapolater and they go to Earth-38.

I laughed with joy at this moment and this scene because entering Earth-38 the episode has Remy Zero’s “Save Me”, also known as the Smallville theme song playing over it. Anyone who keeps up to date with behind the scenes gossip knows they were using the Kent Farm from Smallville as the Kent Farm for Earth-38′s Smallville but with the theme song playing and I think even the tractor is the same. Although on Riverdale last week they also used the Kent Farm in another capacity so maybe the CW, which broadcasts all the DC shows and Riverdale like that set, I know I do. It’s such a feel-good nostalgia trip seeing it. Also that song, I just love it!

We are reacquanted with Tyler Hoechlin as Clark Kent and, despite not appearing in Season 3 of Supergirl he did easily slide back into the role. I mentioned in my first reaction to seeing Tyler Hoechlin as Superman that I was won over by the acting and look just the choices taken by costuming threw me. Here we see more of Clark Kent then we do Superman and for me it works. However my biggest issue right now is if they are trying to make out as if this Superman is the same one we saw the origin story for during Smallville played there by Tom Welling. With the theme song playing and the same farm being used it does seem that way. I would be very happy if ti wasn’t as that would obviously mean this Supergirl is the same that Laura Vandervoot portrayed and her Kara was more evolved as a superhero than this Kara.

Also, we meet this Earth’s Lois Lane, portrayed by Elizabeth Tulloch. I like her as Lois Lane, I think she has the same level of drive and bite as Erica Durance and Teri Hatcher did in the role and isn’t as wet and dull as Amy Adams. Interestingly enough when it comes to Superman mythos, the small screen seems to get right what the movies get wrong.

Kara is visiting her cousin after being fired from the D.E.O. and is debating whether or not she should have revealed her identity to Clark looking I guess for justification in her decision, Clark obviously tells her she did the right thing because secret identities are there to keep loved ones safe and that is obviously the right thing to do.

Barry and Oliver arrive giving Lois a fright but it seems whatever alternate reality was put in place only affected Earth-1 because Kara still knows them as themselves. Barry and Oliver are formally introduced to Superman at both are a little bit starstruck but handle it in different ways fitting their characters.

Then when it comes to Barry and Oliver training as each other, Barry has to target practice while Oliver runs at him being a moving target.

The only issue with this setup is while is it is done to make an excellent callback to when Oliver trained Barry, Oliver still thinks he is training Barry here and gets very offended when Barry doesn’t take playing him seriously.

Lois is great in this scene as the impartial spectator and calls it how she sees it calling Oliver a dick. Hilarious.

Barry and Oliver then have a heart-to-heart and discover that in order to be each-other they need to embody what makes each other work as vigilantes, Barry is very light-hearted and positive whereas Oliver is very grounded and serious. So for Barry to be the Green Arrow effectively he needs to be grounded and serious while Oliver being The Flash needs to be upbeat. As I said before I love the meta referencing of how the two shows and characters are so different from each other yet exist in the same space, then Kara comes along who is a bit of both, it’s the trinity right here. DC’s original Trinity of Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman has been made DOA thanks to the movies so the small-screen has a new trinity of Green Arrow, Flash and Supergirl.

Cisco arrives and tells the group that they need to come back to stop A.M.A.Z.O. and both Kara and Clark tag along for the ride, with Cisco finally meeting Superman.

Ambushing A.M.A.Z.O:

Back on Earth-1 and sure enough A.M.A.Z.O. makes his debut as these crossover events need badly CG’d robots in them. A.M.A.Z.O. as his comic-book counterpart does, is a robot who mimics powers so as he battles he just gets stronger. Here this is done through displaying symbols of each person mimicked on his chest...the only issue with this is while I understand Killer Frost’s symbol I do not get Vibe’s.

After having their asses handed to them, Cisco decides they need Oliver and Barry, but Iris says she let them go due to believing their story and Cisco goes along with it going to Earth-38 to get them. Whether or not the extrapolator knew where Kara was and so ported Oliver and Barry there is one thing but how did Cisco know where they were? I guess he vibed them but it is never shown.

After returning with Barry, Oliver, Kara and Clark what follows is an amazing battle and it’s only the first part of the crossover. Okay yes the CG on A.M.A.Z.O. is shoddy but so was the CG on Red Tornado and Metallo last year, here the focus is really on Barry and Oliver working as Green Arrow and Flash respectively.

They figure out a plan that includes the Super-Cousins as they are used essentially as battering rams to hold A.M.A.Z.O. in place, I am just thrilled to finally see at least 2 members of the original Justice League working side-by-side, I know Martian Manhunter is coming up most likely in the Supergirl part so I cannot wait for that.

Team Flash acquire a virus that would destroy A.M.A.Z.O. because turning him off manually has been made impossible. In order to install the virus, Barry had to shoot the virus at A.M.A.Z.O. but to make sure he couldn’t phase it through, Oliver had to counteract his phasing. So you had Barry waiting for the right shot while the other three held him in place. They succeed and, after a familiar line from the Green Arrow, A.M.A.Z.O. is no more.

Future Repercussions:

This part got me excited, this was Iris, coming round to the idea that Barry is actually Barry, and warning him not to turn into Oliver. Again the girl has some sort of issue with Oliver being dark and miserable all the time and while Barry is playing Green Arrow for the moment, doesn’t want him to become Oliver.

This got me thinking, what if the events of this crossover have a lasting effect on the future of the Arrowverse? What if by learning how to be each other’s vigilante personas, both Barry and Oliver are changed when they return to their respective personas? I would love this crossover to make that possible as I feel it would make both series’ more compelling going forward.

Preluding the Bat:

So at the end of the episode, Cisco mentions a scattered vibe he had earlier in the episode of this mysterious figure who we know as The Monitor. Again I won’t go into much detail here because we are not given much as is but the vibe shows him with this lecturer John Deagan who he gave this all powerful reality writing book to and caused the events of this crossover.

While no one else really knows who the men are, Oliver spotted a key fact as to where they are, a Wayne Enterprises building...tomorrow’s Part 2 episode will bring about Gotham City and more importantly Batwoman who is seen atop a rooftop from a far distance but it is definitely her. I cannot wait!

Easter-Eggs:

So many Easter-Eggs and this is only episode 1. We see a barrage of dead heroes in that opening scene, these include Captain Cold, either Jesse Quick or Speedy, Hawkman and Hawkgirl, The Ray and a Green Arrow who is in the Green Arrow suit used in Smallville.

Smallville is an Easter-Egg cache of itself here due to that cameo plus the theme song and the farm all being used, most likely just fan-service but I loved it.

I don’t really want to rate the separate parts of the crossover and will rate the whole thing at the end of the event but I think this is a great start to the crossover and I cannot wait for Part 2.

So that’s my review of Elseworlds - Part 1, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more DC TV Reviews and well as other TV Reviews and posts.

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idealisticrealism · 7 years

Text

Blindspot 3x05 recap

Aka the one where all my sons are idiots and all my daughters are precious angels who deserve all the hugs.

Late again, because when am I not? Again, I blame the travelling.

So I’m kinda intrigued by this pair; the bleeding, accented woman and the young guy with an American accent in what seems to be a super-dingy bathroom? What is going on here??

Patterson has been doing some fancy analysing of the adoption records and yeppp, Jane definitely had a kid. And ugh Patterson is so sweet and gentle about it and has done so much research so she could give Jane ALL the info and Jane is just Not Dealing. But hmmm Patterson tells her there’s no way to test if she’s had a child and lbr that’s not exactly true? A good ObGyn could generally tell just by looking at the cervix. Not a perfect measure, but it’s definitely an option. But anyhow Jane is too busy flipping out anyway, and ugh she mentions the Taylor Shaw thing and already having everything ripped away from her multiple times and man my heart just hurts for her rn. And Weller’s so at a loss for what to do or how to comfort her ugh my poor babies

Lol Reade and Zapata and their little Wizardville rivalry is super cute. And then she’s completely open with him and asks him directly about the State Department Guy thing and wow Reade just harshly shuts her down. I’m glad Patterson interrupts this little moment because it was definitely going nowhere good. But speaking of things that ARE good, omg I love her pun about the ‘backbone’ of the case and Weller being all killjoy about it haha. That’s right, honey, just ignore him. Your humour is too good for him anyway. And so anyhow the tatt leads to a NYPD evidence log number, though Zapata notes that the code is different to what the NYPD uses now, and Reade gets super snarky at her for it. Geez son, learn some manners! Patterson backs Zapata up tho (yaaassss my girls), showing that the code is like 20 years old. Jeller go to check out the warehouse it points to while Zapata is given paperwork by Reade (wow, petty), though tbh Zapata ends up with the better deal since Jeller have to fight some bad guys and literally put out a fire. Ugh the way Jane yells for him as she tries to fight the fire alone-- it’s only when its the two of them together that they manage to extinguish it. Symbolism, much? Patterson calls right at that moment to warn them to get out, and it’s a little late, but well, it’s the thought that counts haha. Other warehouses have been burned, which means someone is trying super hard to destroy evidence but doesn’t know where it is. Jane, because she’s amazing, finds the box they nee-- and in it is a whole bunch of untested rape kits going back 20 years. I love the conversation the guys have about the low priority assigned to sexual assault testing-- it’s some good commentary from the writers about the state of the real world.

Meanwhile, Stuart’s phone has been found in the river, and both Patterson and Zapata are very suspicious of the way Reade basically tells her to leave it alone. Looking super suss rn, bro, and I do not like it at allll.

However, I really DO like listening to Jane speak in other languages. So damn cool. And as someone who is currently staying in a foreign country and communicating solely in the local tongue, I have a renewed respect for her fluency lol. Their Russian suspect conveniently elects to speak English though haha. How handy. He’s a bit of a tough guy but through a sneaky move on Jeller’s part, he gives them the info they need-- how he got paid, which gives them a lead on the people hiring him. Patterson also drops another pun, which is three so far this ep and I’m so proud. She also figures out that the the victim was likely linked to Kazarus, which as far as I’m aware is a fake place though tbh my geography is not super great. But anyhow, that narrows their search to two sexual assault survivors.

And then aww Patterson pulls Weller aside and tries to support him about the whole surprise-kid thing, and ugh she’s just so sweet and wants to help both him and Jane as best she can. But he’s upset bc he knows he can’t fix this; no one can. I guess it all just takes time, right? Meanwhile Jane’s in the locker room, getting a call from Roman, and dude he really knew the whole time?? And ugh if she was sixteen when she had the baby (to her high school sweetheart aww) then he was probably about 14 at the time, just a kid himself who had suddenly become an uncle, and man I’m so sad for them both?? But lol she gets to the bullpen and covers the phone while practically yelling for them to trace the call. Not super subtle, Jane. And he tells her she initially fought Shepherd on giving the baby away and then she just ran away? I’m confused. I guess we now understand a bit more about why Remi joined the army though I guess. Not sure how she ever went back to working for Shepherd, though, but maybe she saw the memory wipe as a way out? And Beardy was meant to fill her in on everything including the kid. Idk. Jane’s now having a small breakdown in the locker room and decides she has to go see Shepherd, but Weller’s right when he says that Shepherd would just mess with her head. Don’t give her the satisfaction, Jane! And oh look, a mention of Bethany, haven’t had one of those in a while. And tbh that’s the way I like it, show, so keep ignoring her existence please haha.

In the lab, Patterson admits defeat about Stuart’s phone-- it’s as dead as he is. (Too soon??) But Zapata didn’t spend all that time at the CIA without gaining a few skills in the realms of deception and deviousness, and so they hatch a plan to bluff and lure out the possible mole. And then a lab tech in a headscarf calls them to see something, and the panning shot of the lab also shows another tech in a turban. Firstly, I approve of some diversity happening here, and secondly, I hope that this casting choice was deliberate so there would be people that looked at those characters and went “the traitor has to be one of them” so that when it’s shown that the traitor is someone else, the people watching have to examine just why it was that they thought either of these two background characters were guilty. (Hint: it’s racism!). Anyhow, the rape kit in question has been tested, and it turns out the rapist is the king of Kazarus. Or, the former king, since he died and his brother has assumed the throne. The only spanner in the works being that the rape resulted in a child, who, as per the Kazarussian monarchy, is the rightful heir to the throne. Which naturally means that Scar’s gotta have him taken out. Now we know who we saw at the start of the ep-- the kid and his mother, who was clearly attacked by the assassins but escaped. Now it’s a race for the team to find them before the Kazarussians do.

And then who appears but Weitz, who is now a congressman, and conveniently an expert on Kazarus. I love that everyone looks at Hirst and she’s all “Don’t look at me, Darlins” and how is someone using ‘darling’ in plural like that so damn endearing??? The accent is what truly makes it though, obviously. But nope, it was Reade who called him, which is just another in the list of things Reade has done lately that we do not like. Weitz manages to make everyone hate him even more within mere seconds of showing up, and tbh I love to hate him. His antagonism towards Zapata is hilarious. I like that even Hirst gives him some shit lol. Atta girl. Anyhow Weitz informs them that the ex-king’s brother Cyrus is a Bad Dude and there’s a bunch of american soldiers in Kazarus that are now at risk, and yep the stakes have just been raised

Reade gets called into the principal’s office to discuss his little spat with Zapata. How exactly does Hirst know about that, though? Though I guess if she’s paid attention to any of their interactions today then she probably could have figured it out. I’m offended that he calls Zapata a busybody?? But then he does at least say that she’s nothing to worry about and that she’s a friend. What do you two have to hide though??? Meanwhile in the lab, Patterson has found the kid by examining the curtains in a video that the kid sent to his gf. That’s my lil genius. Of course it’s super convenient that this type of curtain is only made for a specific motel chain, but whatevs, I’ll let it slide as I do with many things in this show haha. I love Zapata teasing Weitz though, suggesting that it was all too smart for him and went over his head haha

Jane’s clearly taking this case pretty personally-- and tbh it does seem veeeeeeeery convenient that there’s a case that resonates so closely with her current situation, until you remember that this time around, all the tattoos are specifically designed by Roman to be revealed in a certain order, so it makes total sense that the case matches stuff going on in their personal lives. More sense than when it happened in the last two seasons, so touche, writers. You win this round. Anyway they get to the hotel, and the kid immediately pulls a gun on them. His mom’s not looking too good though, kinda bleeding out a little on the bed, and ugh Jane does her frightened-animal whisperer thing and convinces the kid to let her help his mom. Naturally he chooses to trust her bc lbr wouldn’t you?? They get his mom to the hospital where she’s super well guarded, and he tells them about only learning at 18 about his mother’s attack. And he only learned yesterday about the whole king thing, and tells them he’ll never go to Kazarus. You just know that Jane is thinking about her baby and how the kid probably wouldn’t want to know her as they must think she abandoned them, and ugh it hurts. Why must you do this, show?

Back in the lab Patterson and Zapata have set their trap, and are waiting to see who falls into it-- only they don’t like the answer. According to her computer, Reade logged into the system to delete the files. Patterson is grim; she doesn’t like it, but she’s ready to believe it. When Zapata tries to insist that Reade wouldn’t do it, that he’s family, Patterson just reminds her: Borden was family too. And ugggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I do not like this at all. I am so done with leaks and moles and traitors and all of it ugh. I do appreciate Weitz for making me smile here; Zapata is back at her desk and he throws a paper airplane at her, then feigns confusion, looking around for who could have done it. Tbh I actually do ship these two a little bit. All the bickering just does it for me lol. She gives him shit about probably not going to be re-elected, but he says he’s doing great in the polls. She says polls have been wrong before-- and is that some political commentary I hear? Man who was the writer of this ep because they are not pulling punches today. Reade comes over and tries to mend bridges, which tbh tastes a little sour after he was such an asshole this morning... give him nothing, Zapata!

Looks like Yasmine is gonna live, which is nice. She and Jane bond a little over protecting kids etc while Weller and the kid go to get something from the vending machine--- and ugh when they’re coming back Wller notices their guard from the door is gone and pushes the kid behind him. I love protective Weller. I also love Weller throwing an injured woman over his shoulder and carrying her to safety. Damn. He also proved pretty smart-- when they realised that the baddies were on their FBI comms, he bluffed and reported that they were headed for the roof while they escaped out the front door instead. Nice. Though why do I feel like that escape was too easy?

Patterson has figured out that it’s not Reade that’s tampering with their evidence, but someone else using his login. She confesses to Zapata about the backdoor that Wizardville gives her into people’s phones, and says she’s never used it before, which isn’t true though right?? Didn’t she use it on that Lowie guy’s lawyer a few eps ago? Anyway Zapata doesn’t care about the illegal biz, she just wants to hear her best(?) friend’s name cleared. Turns out he wasn’t even in the building when someone used an FBI computer to access their files, so that’s at least looking good for him, even if it is bad for them as a whole

Weller reports in, and the team tracks their phones and immediately sends backup-- but too late, considering that the baddies have laid out a trap for them. Was this why it was so easy for them to get away?? Jeller manage to take out several bad dudes on their own, but not before one of them manages to molotov-cocktail their car, which blows up moments later. Dude that’s one potent cocktail… but ugh they all make it to safety, with Weller again literally carrying Yasmine, and ugh the mother and son hug and the husband and wife hug and it’s just a very poignant moment okay?? Also there’s just something really beautiful about the way Jane hugs, I can’t even really describe it. Anyhow they all make it back to the NYO, where the rest of the team (plus Weitz, in his own way) are super glad to see them alive. After a minute Zapata and Patterson sneak off, because Patterson needs to tell her the news-- the person using Reade’s login was Hirst. She’s sure because of biometric software that she runs on all of their computers, and again, man I’m super glad that these powers are in the hands of someone trustworthy like Patterson haha. But ugh this means my honey-accented cool aunt is a baddie?? She even knew that Lowie guy from a few eps ago. Well, bummer. Still holding out for the possibility that there’s more to it, but things aren’t looking great...

Oh dear, King Cyrus was murdered, and the Kazarussians are demanding their heir. Which really sucks for the kid, and Jane and Weller try to protect him, but he’s determined to go and to make things better for his fellow Kazarussians. And lbr, to have to go become king is not the worst thing??

Wow Patterson and Zapata actually went to Reade to warn him about Hirst. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. I would have done some more surveillance or something first? But anyway he is really not taking it well, and kinda attacks both of them a bit over it. And wait he’s known Hirst since he was in Quantico??? That’s news to me. And not good news, either. Please don’t be dirty, Reade. Please…

Jeller are recovering at home after a pretty damn rough day. Jane has changed her mind about finding her daughter-- she wants her just to have a happy, stable life, and that willl be far easier if she never knows Jane exists. And he just hugs her bc what can you do to make that pain better? Nothing, that’s what. She’s going to mourn her connection with her daughter for the rest of her life and ugh it just really sucks

Oh no a time jump, nothing good ever follows a time jump. And oh shit it’s Berlin. Weller’s having no luck with a rude hotel employee, which I find super unbelievable because a) he’s front desk staff at a fancy hotel, b) the person asking him for help is a man clearly traumatised about his missing wife, and c) he’s German. Him being rude makes no sense. But it does give this girl a cool opening to come help Weller out, and man I am jealous of her German speaking skills. Like I said earlier, it’s not easy!! But wait, there’s more. The girl is not only American, but she’s looking for Jane. Her mother, Jane. And oh Weller, you stupid, stupid boy. You foolish, well-meaning idiot. I am sure that your reasons for not telling Jane about this are all purely to protect her (although I also suspect you’re trying to protect yourself from her leaving you again) but dude. DUDE. This is not the kind of secret you should ever keep, and honestly if Jane leaves your ass when she finds out the truth I’m gonna be on her side of the split. Ugh, my stupid son when will you ever LEARN

#Blindspot #Jeller #Blindspot recap

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xluckytheninjax · 7 years

Photo

Tumblr’s messing with quality,and since I scanned ‘em,seems like some of the parts are too light to show up.

Anyway,here’s what I’ve been drawing for the past two weeks between studying and writing exams.Because of the new South Park games {The Fractured but Whole and Phone Destroyer} I got obsessed with South Park again.So,have two pages of stuff I drew of my New kid in the games.His name is Max Chaos.One of my OCs with the most backstory.Decided on playing as him in Stick of Truth,and yep.I can’t draw humans to save my ass,but they don’t look as bad.Because I can’t really draw humans,I can’t draw kids,so,you’ll see they look older...whatever.I used some pose references for basically all of these.Without references,I’d be lost.

I decided I’m gonna post his bio with the drawings,because why not?

A short ramble behind every scribble and Max’s bio is under the cut {Otherwise this is gonna get too long}

If you’re still reading,howdy!

Here’s a description or whatever of each scribble.

1 {First page,left at the top} - This is what Max looked like when he and his family first moved to South Park.He has quite a bunch of scars,the most noticible being the slash through his eye,the ones on his hands {Thanks printer for making that unseeable} and the one that looks like an ‘x’ on the back of his neck {Can’t be seen at this angle}.

2 {The one next to the first one,one with the hoodie} - Max is known for liking oversized hoodies and shirts.The one he likes most being the one he’s wearing in the drawing.Black and grey,with a white ‘13′ on the front,and on the back ,’Chaos’ and another big ‘13′.

3 {The two side views.One is half drawn} - Originally,his costume for FBW/playing superheroes had a little mask thing {The right side-view}.Then I drew him with skeleton facepaint with shorter hair...and it looked cooler.So,the story is that,with his parents fighting,his dad commented that his hair is getting too long,and he got a haircut.It was all fien and dandy.Then during counselling with Craig ‘n Tweek during FBW,where they had to fight the therapy kids,one of the kids took the mask.He says that the skeleton facepaint fits his costume and the shorter hair better anyway.

4 {The one at the top right corner} - This is what Max looked like at the end of Stick of Truth.As King Douchebag,he wears a crown,and a poncho with the crab chestplate underneath,and his weapons? Crossbow,katana and Greataxe of the Warrior,even if he was a mage. During the events of SoT,he got some more scars and stuff from messing with fire and fireworks,and ended up with a black eye.

5 {Under the two side views} - “This here town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”

I play Phone Destroyer,made Max again.Now with the cowboy outfit that everyone starts out with,just with feathers.

6 {Under the first picture on the left} - I just drew Max’s eyes and mouth.This would be after SoT and during FBW.That’s it....

7 {Bottom left corner} - The last of the real ones/Capes

The reason for the first name comes from something Kenny says as Mysterion while walking to the police station at the beginning of ‘The thin white line’.Listening FOB after watching the episode lead to me naming the sketch after the song.The reason for the other name ‘Capes’,is because both of them are facing away,showing off their capes.I altered the Mysterion costume a liiiitle bit and gave Max a costume that isn’t in the game,more a personal design. Here we can see the ‘x’ scar on his neck.

8 {At the bottom,middle} - I have no explanation for this.Just a space filler I guess.

9 {Bottom right corner} - Counselling

“After this,I think Max is gonna need counselling”

One of my favorite missions in FBW,is fixing Craig and Tweek’s relationship.I screwed up with the mask thing,as you can tell.This would be an anguement before fighting the therapy kids.Altered Craig’s costume because I can.I could’ve drawn better,but eh,whatever.

The next page!

10 {Bottom left corner} - “Just a crazy,patched up Matryoshka”

I found a Matryoshka music video with the South Park characters,then this happened.I tried writing Matryoshka in Japanese in the speech bubble,but I feel like I screwed that up.I took Max in SP,and gave him the facepaint I gave him in a picture of him I drew a long time ago.Changed his jacket from the original.He also wears a snapback,flipped backwards....forgot to add that.

11 {Top right corner} - “I don’t see how this saves us time m’lord.”

I already posted about this one here

12 {Bottom right corner} - It was then that he started questioning a lot of things.

“Let’s get that blood cleaned up..”

“No.”

“We’re gonna clean those damn wounds.”

“No.”

“Do these eyes look like they’re gonna take no for an answer.”

“…..No.”

“Exactly.”

“Y’know,being taller than me makes it more intimidating…”

“…That’s some real Twenty one pilots bs you got going on there,New kid.”

“… That was what I was going for.”

Probably my favorite drawing so far.You can guess who’s my favorite superhero.It’s Mysterion.I could’ve said Professor Chaos,but he isn’t a hero.It’s between them and Toolshed.

Wanted to draw a bigger version of Max with the facepaint to show off some detail...then this happened.He decided to not paint over his eye scar,nor his lip scar.He did paint over his black eye though.One can see the ‘x’ scar,and a little part of a scar on his hand.

Now forrr his bio,because I can.I am evil enough to make this post even longer.I’m bored too,so yeah.

A profile on the New Kid --------

Full name:

Maximus Winston Chaos

Nicknames:

Max,Chaos,and the names given to him by the others - New kid, Douchebag, Dovahkiin,Buttlord,Butthole,etc

Gamer tag:

ChaoticDestroyer

Gender:

Born male,identifies as male

Age:

10 {although that's not the case in my art but shh}

Nationality:

American

Parents: Although the names of the parents in the games are Kelly and Chris {I think?} ,I changed it for the sake of originality I guess?

Sebastian Thomas Chaos

Cierra Chaos

Pets:

He has a husky mix named Hunter

Sexual orientation:

Pansexual

Personality:

At first glance,Max looks like your typical tough,I-have-no-feelings-or-emotions guy,but is actually a big clumsy teddy bear.He's extremely quiet,even if he doesn't mean to be. Because of his gift,his family moves around a lot.Every time he gets brainwashed,leaving him without any memories of past friends,or making them.He gets forced to keep quiet,and that lead to him to be almost completely mute.Slowly he's talking again.But he only talks to certain people.His friends,but not his parents.He can be stubborn and sarcastic,but he can also be sweet and witty. He's innocent,that's how it seems at first,but trust me,he's not so innocent.A charmer.Very protective,cares a lot for all his friends,not afraid to start a fight. If he sees one of his buds are colder than usual,he will literally give them the hoodie he's wearing,then he trusts that they'll return it.Except Cartman.He dislikes him.Likes puns.

An undercover emo.

Single/Taken:

"I don't have a crush on anyone in paticular."

"That's a lie.You told me in the bathroom during the superhe- "

"Not now Wendy."

He doesn't have memory of previous relationships.He is banned from having romantic relationships.Doesn't keep him from having a crush though.

Star sign:

Cancer

Race:

White

Birthday:

3rd of July

Alignment:

Lawful

Hair color:

His hair is so light,it looks white

He dyes it for special occasions.As an example,he has dyed his hair candy corn colors for Halloween,and pastel pink for Valentines day.

Eye color:

One would think his eye color is red.

Height:

He's pretty tall in comparison to the others

Piercings/tattoos:

Both his ears are pierced,no tattoos

Scars:

When he first moved to South Park,he had only a slash going through his left eye and some other random scars from different things.After the events of Stick of Truth,he's stuck with a black eye he got during the attack on Clyde and a few more scratches and burns.During the events of the Fractured but Whole,he's got a slash through the right side of his mouth and a few more.Almost broke his arm.

More random facts:

-He has insomnia because of horrible nightmares.If he can't sleep,he climbs out the window onto the roof,where he built himself a little platform.He usually sits there watching the drunkasses below with a hoodie and a blanket.

-His favorite animal is a grizzly bear

-He talks in his sleep,if he gets sleep

-He has a fear of clowns,thunder and lightning.While he enjoys a nice calm day with rain and a little thunder,if the thunder gets worse he gets scared.He will never admit that though.

-Has a thing for facepaint

-He loves drinking ice tea,and Fanta

-He sleeps in a too big t-shirt,it's white with some purple,and a giant 13 on the front and back,and plaid pants

-He doesn't swear out loud,unless you anger him or if he's in costume {More specifically,Mutt}

-He has little drawings all over his journal

-The smell of alcohol disgusts him

-Not a bad singer

-Likes camping

-Has gotten stitches on his back after playing rugby.This was before they moved to South Park.

-Loves to climb trees

-He is right handed,but,has the ability to write with his left hand too

-Has never been to the beach

-Still has a probe up his ass

-Still has some gnome dust hidden in his drawer in case of emergency

-Very clumsy {gets him in lots of amusi- I mean embarrassing situations}

-He's very protective over the ones he loves,so,if he fights a guy,takes hits for you or if he gives you his hoodie,know he cares

-Likes spooky scary skeletons

-Has fallen off the back of a truck (don't worry,it wasn't moving)

-Has gotten lost in a corn field (don't ask how or why)

-Favorite food is tacos

-Genius

-Not a bad shot with a bow and crossbow,but prefers melee weapons like swords,spears and such

-His class during the wizard and humans vs elves thing (Stick of Truth) was mage.He likes messing with fire and fireworks.

-He ditched Cartman the moment Kyle asked him to join the elves instead.While he likes Butters and Kenny,Cartman's too bossy for his liking.Kyle is much cooler and he likes hanging with Stan and Jimmy.

-His classes before Doctor Timothy allowed him to have every class during the superhero thing (Fractured but whole) were Blaster - Elementalist - Assassin - Plantmancer

-When they played pirates,he was a navigator and scout

-While they were acting out a zombie apocalypse,he was a group leader

-He has two superhero personalities During missions with the others,he is Chaos Destroyer.He based it off his gamer tag,which is ChaoticDestroyer.He wears skeleton facepaint,a dark red cloak,black shirt underneath with a blood red skull n crossbones,a tool belt (with daggers,fireworks,the works),and dark grey pants,with black combat boots.

One night he took on a wolf like persona because there wasn't time to get into normal costume {It was on a special mission,with literally only one of the guys}.While this one doesn't have an official name,he was called quite a few...some obviously worse than others.He refers to the persona as Mutt.He wears his PJs,his wolf hat,a dark hoodie,claw like slippers,fingerless gloves and his dog's spiked collar.He then uses his apocalypse ready baseball bat,and his flip knife as weapons.He's a little more open to express his opinion as this persona. "I'm gonna break your fcking skull and snap your neck." "I got called a furry.Like bitch,do I look like Cartman to you?"

-His kryptonite is math.Math scares him {and me}

-If he was a companion,his SoT moves would consist mostly of fire related attacks.He would have the ability to heal too.His FbW moves depend on persona.As CD,his normal moves would consist of one heal/protection move,one ranged move and one close combat move...all which I'm unsure about.Ultimate would have a similarity to Kyle's one move from SoT.An army of skeletons firing arrows on command at a big part of the board. As Mutt,his moves consist of melee based attacks and one protection/heal.One with his baseball bat {knockback},one with his knife {causes bleeding}.His heal/protection would make him switch places with another player.His ultimate....I don't know.Will probably only have an effect on one enemy.

-Both personas have comments on everything.Because of skeleton like appearance,CD likes using skeleton related puns.As an example. "I've got a bone to pick with you assholes." "You don't even have the guts to take me on." {Winning a battle} "Looks like these freaks didn't have the spine/backbone to take us on." {Going down in battle} "Tibia honest,I was getting bone tired anyway."

Mutt on the other hand...has no puns,only sarcasm,and normal commentary...If his pals go down,he'll have a nicer choice of words to say to them...and still some angry words to the enemies,'specially the ones hitting his pals.Maybe a threat or two and growling. "I'm ready to kick some ass and take names." "You okay there? No? ALRIGHT WHICH ONE OF YOU ASSHOLES DID IT?!" "Who wants me to knock their ass out with my bat?!"

I’ll probably add more stuff as it comes to mind.

#south park #south park the stick of truth #south park the fractured but whole #sp the stick of truth #sp the fractured but whole #sp #stick of truth #fractured but whole #phone destroyer #south park phone destroyer #south park the new kid #south park oc #sp the new kid #south park new kid #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #tweek tweak #craig tucker #more south park tags

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engl699readingjournal-blog · 7 years

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Mateja was from Nürnberg and had been scouted as a model in her mid-teens. Like most slim male models with androgynous faces and slender figures, her entire career had been from the very beginning sculpted by her agency as informed by the archetypes she could already be placed into, prefabricated and predestined, as laid out for her as the clothing items themselves. She had done H&M campaigns in effete floral blouses, clad in bell-bottom pants and donning Quentin-Crisp-esque scarves and broad-brimmed hats, round sunglasses, ethereal photoshoots standing in meadows, wreathed in lavender. Tresses intertwined with leaves and open shirts slipping off of pale bony shoulders, a glamorous pastoral in which a certain suspended belief in the existence of masculinity was engineered by an industry presently dominated by Andreja Pejić pre-transition. At the height of Mateja’s career, the industry had only just realized that androgyny was lucrative, apparently, because even before I had met her I knew her. Pictures of her crossed my Tumblr dashboard from time to time. She blended in with the other thousands of models being styled exactly as she was, but she was there nonetheless, a part of this bizarre vision someone was curating, the ultra-wispy waifish male model clothed in these strange Little Lord Fauntleroy outfits as if he had himself been dressed by some Victorian nanny, given dissolute-1920s-schoolboy floppy haircuts. At one point I felt like a day couldn’t pass by without me seeing someone reblog a picture of one of these models in a sheer button down that showcased his ribs and collarbones, one blue eye peeking at the camera because the other was covered by the hair flop, a boater hat perched on top of that, cultivating the kind of gossamer construct Thomas Mann might have chased through Venice in a 1913 fantasy. Spindly hands, hollow cheeks, emphasized undereye circles that reiterated the eternal toxic marriage between the anemic image and the marketable queer one. The only way to be androgynous: rail thin, white as Christmas in Finland, consumptive. Models were scouted, packaged this way, then disposed of once they had aged out of the fey aesthetic. Something about seeing them years later on Instagram, sloppy, weird, greasy, chainsmoking, partying, was satisfying, the shedding of the artificial skin and the assumption of the unmarketable identity, the inundation of the Instagram account with memes instead of photoshoot outtakes, the gaining of weight and the growing of patchy beards, the eschewing of the sheer blouse in favor of kitschy t-shirts with stock photos of European-Union-themed nail art silkscreened across the front. High-waters paired with dirty running shoes. If Thomas Mann had seen them all now he may never have written Der Tod in Venedig. This is what his Tadzio would become? A smelly Prenzlauer Berg hipster in Dahmer glasses? Good.

Mateja was of a slightly different variety of industry pariahs, though. Once she left her representing agency, she grew her hair out, started wearing PVC skirts over black leotards, changed her name, started her own modeling agency for trans, genderqueer, nonbinary, and otherwise non-cisgender people. That was how we met. “The agency is called Das Modell,” she said as we sat at Südblock, casually inhaling an entire Flammkuchen while we talked about her work. “With two L’s. You know, like a concept, a theory, not like a person. And das, because it’s neutrisch. So is das Model, but the meanings are not quite the same.” I thought about the song by Kraftwerk and its rudimentary lyrics – “she is a model and she’s looking good / I’d like to take her home, that’s understood” – and how I had seen the German title of that song spelled both ways, with and without the extra L at the end. Of course, obsessed with all things robotic and scientific as they were, it would have made sense if the same wordplay had been intended there. “I just got sick of many things in this mainstream fashion industry,” she went on. “I left this agency because I told them I was not a male and they didn’t know what to do about that. They wanted to make me like Andreja, but I wasn’t like her. She knew she was a woman for many years, you know. She just didn’t come out because she knew she could make more money as a male model who looked like a woman than she could doing the same thing but identifying as a woman. Her whole career was relying on this one difference. I told them I was not this. They had no use for me. So I started my own agency.”

We had done a few photoshoots, all of which involved me in all black with my silver-blond hair, gaunt face, and crooked left ear front-and-center. I was not shaping up to be a Tadzio. I was 5’6”, my personal brand of androgyny was more evocative of clear and present illness than of foppish wastrel, my head was the size of a jovian planet, I had tattoos that I didn’t feel like showing, I wore drapey clothing that managed to convey the suggestion that I had a body somewhere without actually having to show it. My hair, which had held the same side-part for my entire life, would not do anything except lay exactly the way it wanted to. Mateja had been putting me in all-black turtlenecks for our shoots because they apparently emphasized my jawline. I hated turtlenecks enthusiastically, but I liked Mateja, so I endured. By the time we were halfway through one of our photoshoots, a roll of film in an empty room at the Neue Schule für Fotografie, filled with cracked mirrors that refracted the late-afternoon sunlight across the distinctly DDR parquet flooring, I was ready to shave my hair off and go around for the next months wearing a scarf-wig, Little Edie in Grey Gardens style, clad in a monk’s robe. I had seen myself standing in every unflattering angle I could possibly achieve in every cracked mirror that shot beams of Minority Report lighting across my face and washed out my nose. I sat on a dinosaur of a desk that had been pushed to the wall while Mateja changed a film roll, squinting out at the sunset over a particularly dingy part of Mitte. I had shown up to the photoshoot with only the clothes I was wearing, an attempt to avoid the bringing-up of a tight black turtleneck. The shirt I had chosen had a band collar and was loose. She did not express disapproval of it, but it was most likely not what she would have chosen, either.

“I think what we concentrate on the most is your face and your hands,” Mateja said. She began to take photos of me as I sat on the desk. “These are your best features.” My hands? They were German Expressionist monstrosities disproportionate to the rest of my body, but I did like them. My face, though? At times I was at peace with it, at other times I wanted to take my fingernails and gore it into unrecognizability. I had strong bone structure because I was sick, not because I was effortlessly beautiful like the Tadzios. None of this would have been interesting to Mateja, who simply commented on how good I was at sitting still and catching the best light with the slightest inclinations of my head. I was just trying to hide that damn ear.

Later that summer, Mateja asked me if I was interested in doing a group photo series for a fashion publication called Achtung, shot by a Köln-based photographer named Eva, centered around Mateja’s fashion endeavor and showcasing some of the agency’s talent. As it happened, the photoshoot was to be the day Sam and I left Berlin for our overnight through-the-whole-Czech-Republic odyssey to Vienna. “Eva says she wants to do some shots of us individually, then as groups, just in the apartment, then at night to go out and photograph us at some bars,” Mateja said. “I explained to her and the magazine what we expected of pronouns, proper language, things like this. They told us to bring several pieces of clothing that we feel the most comfortable in, our favorite things to wear.” I agreed to the daytime photoshoot, noting that I would not make the evening half of the project because I had a bus to catch with a friend.

It was July and a massive heat-wave was preparing to seize all of Germany by the throat and hold it fast all the way until the end of August. It was already smoldering in Bavaria and Austria, but had not yet crept up to Berlin. I could still comfortably spend a day outdoors in black shitkicker Docs, heavy black knee-socks, black schoolboy shorts, a white collared button-down, a crust punk neckerchief, and a black blazer with the lapels covered in buttons and brooches, inspired by Rik Mayall’s moody anarchist character from The Young Ones. In Berlin nobody looks twice if you wear the same outfit for a month. It felt only right that this should be the ensemble I brought along.

I think I was the most difficult to style. In attendance were Mateja, a young transwoman from München named Kim, Mateja’s genderqueer roommate whose name I don’t remember, a model and fashion designer named Leni with a look and backstory very similar to Mateja’s, and myself. The two stylists from the magazine looked at what I was wearing, evaluated my face, and made an executive decision: turtlenecks. Put him in turtlenecks. I wanted to scream. My foray into modeling was shaping up to be one backless infinite wardrobe filled with Hermès turtlenecks. “These make your face look incredible,” said the stylists to me in German. “Much more masculine jawline.” I didn’t want a masculine jawline. “Was für ein Gesicht,” Eva said as she snapped photos.

Exactly none of the clothes I was put into were clothes I would wear in any setting ever. Giant 1970s flared pants with platform-heel boots and turtlenecks, awful leather pants and Gucci jean jackets and turtlenecks, everything shot from the front to avoid acknowledging that Sam and I had cut my hair the night before with what could have been a chainsaw and a cheese knife, the crooked ear front-and-center again. I wanted to demand to know why my own clothes didn’t suffice. No, it wasn’t sleek, but neither was punk, neither was queer. I thought about the crust punks who hung out around Warschauer Straße with their dogs and their witty cardboard signs, about the squatters who tromped around Kreuzberg in their boots and bandannas. Did the people from this magazine know nothing about this?

After the main shoot began wrapping up, I got back into my clothes while Mateja and everyone else suited up for their night out, choosing other clothes to bring along for wardrobe changes. Mateja’s first outfit was a slim-cut suit with no shirt underneath, and Leni put on a matching ensemble. Together they put on music and danced while Eva snapped photos, them waiting for it to get dark enough for phase two, me waiting for the right time to leave. They moved like cats, tossing their hair about and embracing each other. I stood to the side, watching and holding my backpack which held enough CLIF bars to last Sam and I through our entire Austrian trek in the coming 36 hours. At some point Eva noticed me, my buttons, my boots, and called me over to snap a picture of me, just standing there, still holding my backpack, in front of this wall, dance music still blaring. Somewhere out there that picture exists. Months later, when Mateja met up with me to give me a hard copy of the magazine, she sighed and simply said, “I don’t know if I’m happy with this series. Eva did very well shooting us, but I think the magazine missed the point.”

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