#I think something was lost in the chase for realism

[dromaeotrash]

[theharrowing]

Carnival of Terror 🎪 3: Sink for me

The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

🎪 Namjoon x Female Reader x Seokjin, Jimin x Taehyung

🎪 word count: 7.9k

🎪 choose your own adventure, friends & strangers to lovers, carnival and circus au, dead dove, horror, possible minor & major character injury & death, supernatural elements & magic realism, nsfw, 21+

🎪 warnings: general feelings of discomfort and creepiness; time does not make sense; memories of a past with two enigmatic men; answers that only lead to more questions; an allusion to sex; mc likes to take handsome men by the hand & be led places idk; more hypnosis; mc is susceptible to coercion; mention of drug use.

🎪 note: all of the above details and warnings are subject to change as the story progresses & the readers vote. check the master post for an updated version of the details.

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted jan. 2024 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

WELCOME BACK TO THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD!

We left off wandering the Hall of Mirrors, searching for what has become lost.

You stumble around the Hall of Mirrors, entering one of the rooms off to the right, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by the music that seems to twist and bend much like your multitude of reflections. A giggle dances through the air that you could swear belongs to Jimin, but as you chase it, you find a dead end.

Still, you continue to chase. Room after room, dead end after dead end, you hear the giggle trailing away, always out of reach. In each new room, you search for a mirror that sticks out just far enough that you can slip behind it, into another passage. The one you pass through now has a black satin curtain in its entrance, and this new room is full of smoke that cloys your senses instantly, and it is dimly lit. 

Realizing that the room is too small for any of your friends to be inside, you spin on your toes and exit the way you came in. As you flail your arm out to catch the satin curtain and shove your way back the way you came, you barrel straight into a chest clad in red velvet and gold buttons, letting out a deep, "Oof."

The body takes a step back, and you realize all at once that it is Kim Namjoon, leader of the Illusions show, standing before you. He looks at you with a soft, almost sad familiarity and then blinks it away with a bright smile. 

"Why, hello, ducky," Namjoon says, voice much deeper than you remember, sending a chill through you. 

From any distance, Namjoon is handsome, but this close, he is magnificent. You almost fail to believe that he is real, and rather than respond, you simply blink several times, feeling more enraptured when his smile widens, revealing dimples.

"Oh," is all you can muster, spellbound by Namjoon's beauty. You swallow thickly, attempting to return to your wits, and blink several times, averting your eyes. "S-sorry. I should watch where I'm going."

"No need," Namjoon responds, taking a step to fully loom over you. The music continues to swell and drag in a way that you find disorienting, and you sway ever so slightly where you stand, reaching for the edge of the doorway to steady yourself but only finding velvet to grip onto. He continues, "You are right where I hoped you would be."

His words don't fully sink, and you squeeze your eyes closed before opening them again, only to find that Namjoon's presence feels far larger than just a moment ago. You mutter, "Huh?" and look around, trying to remember whether the room the two of you are in looks familiar; after a while, each mirrored room looks the same, but there is something about this one that feels…off. 

"Do you have any idea why I would be searching for you?" Namjoon asks, standing far too close for your well-being and making no move to back up. 

You detect hints of a musk and maybe something floral coming from him, but the scent of the fog machine is still too strong. Come to think of it, the smell is far sweeter than you remember it being a moment ago.

"No," you respond in a bit of a haze, right hand holding onto the sleeve of his jacket like a lifeline. 

Once again, you close your eyes tight, and in the darkness behind your lids, everything seems to stop. The music, the sweet, cloying smell, everything dissipates. When you open your eyes again, Namjoon is holding out a hand.

"A little bird told me that you had lost something important. Seokjin is currently not in his tent, but we can wait in mine. Come with me?"

You take Namjoon's hand, which is warm and soft, and he leads you through the mirror maze, room after room, without any uncertainty about where he is going. All the while you keep a lookout for your friends, but you never find any of them. Strange, you think…would they really have left without you or Yoongi?

And then you hear it: Jimin's giggle. Somewhere behind you, it trails away, and you twist in an attempt to yank back toward it, but Namjoon continues forward. With a stumble to your step, you continue along, muttering, "Wait…Jimin…" but he is undeterred.

"You will find your friends," Namjoon says as he pushes through a large black wooden door, revealing the outside. The afternoon sun is far brighter than you remember, and you lift your free hand to shield your eyes. Namjoon looks at you, causing you to look at him as he adds, "As soon as you are meant to."

You want to ask what he means by that, but he continues on, dragging you throughout the carnival grounds. People crowd every path and booth, but somehow, as you snake through them, nobody seems to notice the two of you. Strange, you think, since Namjoon is one of the two most recognizable men on the grounds.

Namjoon leads you to the large tents in the center of the space, walking straight toward a part of the red and white striped tarp that you swear has no entrance. But then he grabs onto an edge and pulls it back, and sure enough, you are able to enter. 

This tent is different from Seokjin's. There is a large bed just to the right, which you quickly avert your eyes from. Trunks, chests of drawers, and armoires fill the space ahead in various sizes and colors. Most are wood – some worn with chipped red and white paint, and some that appear newer with fresh stain and shiny hinges. Others are brass and appear dinged up and tarnished. 

Further ahead and to the right is a large folding screen over which clothing appears to be draped. There is a large metal rack on which more velvet jackets hang in reds and greens and blacks.  

A thick black pole is in the center of the room, holding up the tent's highest peak, and draped around it appears to be various ribbons and rope. To the left, ahead, is a small desk with a chair on either side, and you quickly make your way to the smaller seat on the side closest to you – the one that appears to be for guests. 

"Thirsty?" Namjoon asks, and you nod, muttering, "Yes," despite not being terribly thirsty. 

You sit on the small wooden chair and notice piles of books stacked on a shelf behind the desk, running off onto the floor. Namjoon approaches the desk with a glass of water that he sets in front of you, and when you lift it in both hands, you are surprised by how cold it is. 

"Tell me," Namjoon says. 

You take a drink, waiting for him to continue. But as you look over the glass, you notice his deep, sharp eyes watching you, and you swallow a large gulp, practically gasping around it as you set the half-empty cup on the wooden desk and ask, "Huh?"

Namjoon smiles ever so slightly. "Is this your first time at the carnival?"

Something simmers through you, starting at the top of your head and trickling down to your fingers and toes. An answer rests at the very tip of your tongue, but for the life of you, you cannot find it. 

Is this your first time at the carnival? You frown. 

Vaguely, you can imagine more trips to this very carnival grounds – familiar faces greeting you, familiar tricks mesmerizing you. But they feel out of grasp, like a dream. 

"Yeah," you mutter, brows knit. The answer feels wrong but you know that it has to be true. 

Namjoon studies your face, expression otherwise blank. He blinks and cocks his head, then says, "That's a shame."

You agree that it is a shame. Deep in your heart, something is missing. Lost, perhaps. It makes you sad. 

In the silence, your mind wanders. Hall of Mirrors, Tunnel of Love, the ferris wheel, and the game booths. Laughing and playing and holding someone's hand. But whose? These memories do not belong to today. They don't seem to belong anywhere. 

Namjoon cuts through your thoughts, sitting up tall as he says, "Ah, here he is."

You turn in the small wooden chair to find Seokjin entering the tent. He wears a deep green velvet jacket with long coattails and a black top hat, which he lifts from his head as he bows in greeting. 

"I hear you've lost something, ducky," Seokjin says, lifting his gaze to you as he speaks the nickname that gives you chills. 

Seokjin's eyes are piercing, dark pools. You feel equal parts unsettled and intrigued, and when he blinks his gaze to Namjoon, it feels as if marionette strings that had been holding you taut are snipped, causing your body to relax as a deep breath escapes you. 

"Shall we have a look?" Seokjin asks as he tosses his hat to the bed and begins to walk over. 

You swallow thickly and turn to find Namjoon standing from his chair and moving to sit on the corner of the desk nearest you. His lightly floral musk returns, tickling your senses and making you acutely aware of how your pulse quickens as you do your best not to dwell on how he towers over you. 

Seokjin has a seat across from you and places both hands on the wooden desk. Then he begins to dance his fingernails over the wood. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. You watch intently as his fingers move, feeling the rest of your surroundings slip away in a deep fog.

"Do you trust me?" Seokjin asks. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

You sink back into the chair, body relaxing as you mutter, "Yes."

"Good." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "Tell me the last place you saw that which you lost."

"Hall of Mirrors," you respond somewhat sluggishly. "Jeongguk…Jeongguk told him to get lost."

Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "Who, my dear?"

You blink and a single tear falls from your right eye. "Yoongi."

"Hey, Namjoon-ah," Seokjin says softly. 

Namjoon hums – a sound so pretty and deep, you feel the urge to drown.

"What were you asking our little ducky before I arrived?" 

Once more Namjoon hums, followed by a chuckle. Although you feel glued to the spot, something in your chest tugs in the direction of the sound. 

"I asked if this was her first time at the carnival."

"Oh, how fun!" Seokjin says with a clap, causing you to gasp despite your eyes continuing to stare at the place where his fingertips had been. "And what did she say?"

Namjoon's presence feels close – musk overwhelming your senses, causing your eyelashes to flutter. There seems to be a hint of a pout when he softly utters, "She said yes."

Although your eyes are glued to Seokjin's hands returning to the desk, Namjoon's face is in your mind. His smile is sharp, eyes glazed over and brow pitched in pleasure, and his hair is disheveled. He looks younger somehow, and absolutely heavenly, and for the life of you, you cannot figure out why you are imagining him this way.

"What a shame," Seokjin responds. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

"It is what she asked for, after all," Namjoon says. 

You want to ask what he means, but your mouth won't move.

"This is true." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "This is the first time she has chosen to remember everything. We have to be more careful this time around." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

More fleeting images flash into your mind, this time of Seokjin's hungry stare and wide smile. For the life of you, you cannot figure out why you are thinking about these men in this way.

"Ducky?" Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

Your mouth moves around unvoiced sounds before you finally mutter, "Yes?"

"Do you know what it feels like to lose something dear?" Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

Of course, you do. Yoongi was ripped away rather abruptly, after all. But why is it not him you imagine? 

"Yes," you respond, picturing your hands running over crushed red velvet, fingertips digging into the fabric. 

Seokjin's voice is close and soft as he asks, "Can you sink for me?"

Two warm fingers tap the underside of your chin, and the room melts away. Darkness engulfs you, and although you can feel the looming presence of the Kim brothers, you cannot otherwise perceive them. 

Your body is weightless, hanging in the balance of nothing and everything. The passage of time means nothing, and although you can hear the utterances of two deep, familiar voices, you cannot make out any words. 

Suddenly, you place your hands in front of you and begin to move them as if you are playing invisible piano keys. A slow, somber melody sings in time with your movements, making you sway and sigh. 

"Ah, there he is," Seokjin says. "You can return now." 

You gasp as you blink and return to the tent, looking at Seokjin's eager stare, then over to Namjoon's knees, and back to the desk.

"What was that?" you ask, remembering all of Seokjin's questions and the images of both men that feel strangely familiar. 

"The mind is a fickle thing," Namjoon responds, tone low – almost sad.

"What did you do to me?" you mutter, palms gripping onto your knees. "Why was I imagining— why was I thinking about—"

You knit your brow and shake your head. It feels foolish to admit to these two that you were picturing them in a way that felt intimate, and even more foolish to blame them for your wandering thoughts. You are certain that you have never met these men before today, and yet something about those visions felt so right. 

"About what?" Namjoon asks.

One glance at Namjoon stirs something uncomfortable inside you. His voice is soft and kind, but his expression is nothing short of dangerous. Namjoon stares down at you like a predator that has caught his prey, and you sit frozen in place. 

"Here he is," Seokjin says.

You quickly turn your attention to watch as Seokjin slides a card against the desk, toward you. Although the card reads The Fool, there is no longer the image of the skeleton, but a man with short dark brown hair, dressed in blue and playing an organ.

 "Ah…and I have found something else," he adds with a smile.

You cock your head to the side, and Namjoon leans too close for comfort, whispering, "Close your eyes."

A chill rushes over you, deep and familiar. It is as if you have heard those three words uttered in that voice time and time again, and you are filled with a longing so deep it takes your breath away. 

Without question, you close your eyes. 

And when you open them again, the cloying fog and droning music from earlier return. In one hand, you grip onto soft crushed velvet, and in the other, you hold onto a card. 

Namjoon smiles sadly and places a hand over yours, causing you to let go of his jacket. The two of you stand where he found you in the Hall of Mirrors, and you are too gobsmacked to ask how. 

"See you around," he says with a gentle frown that lifts into a smile. 

Namjoon walks off to the right, and your right leg makes a move to follow, but then Jeongguk jogs over from the left, and you freeze. He halts in place when he sees you, then shakes his head, panting as if he is winded.

"There you are," he says. 

You wonder how much time has gone by, and you even begin to reach for your phone before you realize you have no idea when your group walked into this attraction. Would perceiving the passage of time assuage any of your confusion? Part of you is too afraid to look. 

"Hey," you say, lifting your empty hand to wave. "I was looking for you."

Jeongguk sneers and rolls his eyes, making you feel guilty.

"Look, Jeongguk—" you begin, but he shakes his head and lifts his hand, cutting you off. 

"You didn't know."

"Still," you insist. "I'm sorry."

You really are, and you hope that he can hear the conviction in your voice. What Yoongi did was pretty fucked up, but you still really want to find him. You wonder if the three of you could arrange to still see one another once you leave this place or if that would just upset Jeongguk.

"We should find the others," Jeongguk says. His eyes fall to his hands, which are gripped into fists, and he opens them and stretches his fingers.

"Or," he adds, causing you to lift your gaze to meet his. There is something mischievous in his eyes, giving you goosebumps. 

"Or?" you ask, feeling the urge to take a step back and put space between the two of you. Only the room behind you is a tiny smoke-filled dead end; you have nowhere to go.

"Or I could get back at him," Jeongguk suggests with a smirk, taking a step closer. 

You step back instinctively, pushing on the curtain with your body but not causing it to open. 

"Could find out what he sees in you," he continues, making your anxiety spike. 

Jeongguk licks his lips, and you follow the movement. What would it be like to lose yourself beneath him? Would he be as eager and persistent as Yoongi? Take his time and pull you apart slowly and steadily? Or would he rip into you like a wild beast?

Truth be told, you are curious to find out, although you are unsure where these feelings are coming from. You blame it on the way your mind wandered while inside the tent with the Kims. 

Not to mention, Jeongguk is gorgeous – the entire friend group is. Had Yoongi told you about his and Jeongguk's relationship, you would not have hesitated to try to initiate something between the three of you. 

Jeongguk takes another step, this one closing the gap between you, and you step backward again, leaning against the black curtain enough that your weight begins to push it open. One more step, and you will surely stumble back into the small room. 

"What's the matter?" Jeongguk asks, peering at you with a hunger that makes your heart go haywire. Since when has Jeongguk thought about you in a way that merits this type of expression?

"I j-just think—" you begin, and Jeongguk snickers, lifting a hand to delicately rub his knuckles over your cheek. 

"Nobody needs to know about it," he practically whispers. "Just us."

Jeongguk leans forward, and you gasp, worried that his lips may touch yours. But the unmistakable sound of Jimin giggling causes him to stand straight and take a step back. You are surprised that you are not the only one hearing the sound this time. 

"Maybe later," he shrugs, turning in time to watch as Jimin and Taehyung run into the room. 

The two of them look disheveled, sweaty, and a bit dazed. Jimin runs a hand through his dark hair, saying, "Oh, there you are," and Taehyung struggles to peel his gaze from the floor. 

"What were the two of you doing?" Jeongguk asks teasingly.

If the lighting weren't so dim, you wonder if two of them may be blushing. 

"I could say the same for you," Jimin quips back, causing your anxiety to once more reach its peak.

"Us?" Jeongguk asks incredulously, turning to you with feigned surprise. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Dream on, Chim."

And although you are glad Jeongguk is brushing off the accusation, there is something about his dismissive attitude that makes you feel sad. Of course, you know that even if he is not kidding, you have no reason to feel this way. 

"Wanna go play some game booths while we wait for Yoongi?" Taehyung asks. 

You perk up and look between the three of them. 

Jeongguk shrugs, muttering, "May as well."

"The next tent show is at three," Jimin states, pulling out his phone. "We still have a little time."

They all turn to you, and you nod and say, "Sounds good." 

And although nobody is saying anything about what has transpired, there is something in the way they watch you. Something in the way nobody is willing to outright mention the elephant in the room despite being aware of its presence. 

You wonder if Jimin and Taehyung knew all along what Yoongi was up to. And you wonder why nobody said anything. 

There is also the question of how it is not even 3 pm yet. The illusions show was at 1, and that felt like a lifetime ago. How have you made it from that show, through the Tunnel of Love and the Hall of Mirrors – with everything in between – in under two hours?

This is precisely why you were in no hurry to perceive time. And now that you are, your fingertips begin to tingle, and you attempt to breathe through the urge to spiral. 

Jeongguk glances around, trying to decide how to exit. Although you have no reason to feel confident about these halls, you say, "I think it's this way," and lead the group to the right, through to various rooms the same way you and Namjoon walked earlier. 

At the large wooden door, Jimin sighs and asks, "A fucking dead end?" But you place your hand where Namjoon had and give it a gentle shove, revealing the back exit. 

"Whoa," Taehyung mutters, voice deep and low. "How did you find this?"

With a shrug, you say, "I had a feeling, I guess."

You meet Taehyung's gaze and find him watching you intently. So intently, in fact, that it gives you chills. There is clearly something on his mind, but Jimin takes his hand and yanks him toward the game booths before you can question it. 

"What kind of games are you good at?" Jeongguk asks just a little too close, making you flinch. 

He stands to your right, mouth tugged into a lopsided smile. When he is not playing timid and coy, his demeanor matches Yoongi's so much that you feel conflicted and curious to know more about this other side of him. 

"I'm not really good at any of them," you admit with a fake smile.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and grumbles, "Figures," then takes your hand and pulls you toward Jimin and Taehyung. 

Although your hand remains limp, you allow him to somewhat listlessly hold your fingers as you stumble along. He trails you over to where Jimin and Taehyung throw darts at colorful balloons that are attached to a wall, and you briefly worry about one of them seeing the two of you holding hands – if that's what one might call this. But this day has gotten weird enough as it is, and you no longer have any fight left in you.

Each booth and attraction blasts its own music, all similarly upbeat organ songs made for the carnival. That mixed with the constant sounds of customers and attendants yelling and shouting overwhelms you in the hot sun, and you stumble a little more as Jeongguk drags you along. 

"I like playing the games with guns," he shouts over his shoulder. 

"Guns?" you mumble back, likely too quiet for him to hear. 

It feels strange to imagine Yoongi dating someone who likes guns. Then again, you are unsure whether you know much about Yoongi at all.

Jeongguk approaches a booth with rows of what looks like wooden horseback riders along a horizontal hillside. Stools with cracked red leather seats line the booth with metal water guns that rest on poles, all pointing to a circle with three holes straight ahead, beneath the rows of horseback riders.

There is an adult and two children sitting on stools to the right, shooting constant streams of water into their designated holes, making a horseback rider run along the length of the booth. One of the three holes seems to light up at random, and you have to aim the stream at whichever is lit up in order to make your horseback rider run forward. This is not quite what you imagined when Jeongguk said guns, but you are glad nonetheless. 

"Two, please!" Jeongguk says as he takes a seat furthest to the left.

You hesitate before sitting immediately to his right. 

"It's hardly a game of skill," he says, rolling his shoulders back as if preparing himself for the next round. "Just aim for the correct hole."

Although Jeongguk's tone is playful, it feels condescending. When you fail to respond, he nudges your arm with his elbow, forcing you to scoff and crack a smile.

"Aim for the correct hole," you parrot back unenthusiastically. "Got it."

The attendant hobbles over and takes Jeongguk's money, then he reaches to switch on something under each of your guns. A bell rings, followed by a cheer, and you turn to watch as one of the children stands up excitedly while the other child and adult continue to get their riders to the finish lines. 

"Step right up to the races!" the attendant shouts while the winning child points to a brown and white stuffed dog hanging from the wall of the booth. As the attendant hands the dog over, he shouts, "Win the race, win a prize!" 

The three players leave, and two more walk up, taking their seats to the far right. You turn your attention forward and stare at the rows of wooden horseback riders while waiting for your turn to play. 

This game seems easy enough, and you wonder what the caveat will be. Will your horse be just slightly faster or slower than the rest? Perhaps your stream of water will be weaker than the others. Or, perhaps, moving the gun will prove to be challenging and this will be a game of skill, after all.  

"Ready?" a familiar voice asks.

You look up to find Hoseok standing before you, head tilted to the side with the long black ears of his hat hanging around his face. 

With a shrug, you mutter, "Sure," and Hoseok chuckles quietly as he walks to the far right side of the booth where a tall black stool waits for him.

"Racers, start your engines!" he shouts as water streams shoot from everyone's guns. 

The gun is an old metal contraption with two handles on each side. You grip onto the handles and aim for the hole on the top and center of your circle, assuming the game may start there. 

A loud bell rings, and the hole that you aim at lights up red. Above, you see the second wooden horse from the top begin to trot forward, assuming that one must be yours. But then it stops, and you look down at the circle to notice the hole on the right is lit up, so you attempt to move the stream to that hole but overestimate to the right and to the left of it before getting the aim steady. 

It goes on like this, aiming for the top, then the left, then the top, then the left, then the right. As frustrating as it is to keep up with the changing light, you begin to actually have a little fun. 

Then another bell loudly rings, and Jeongguk stands from his stool triumphantly. You are not too far behind, but one of the players to your right comes in second place, and you pull up in third. 

"Not bad," Jeongguk says, settling down on his seat. "Once more? Aim for a bigger prize?" 

"Alright," you mutter, not that you are at risk of winning anything in the first place. But if Jeongguk wants to walk around with a large stuffed animal for the rest of the day, that is his prerogative. 

Hoseok returns, asking what prize Jeongguk would like, and Jeongguk hands him more cash and says he wants to win another round before choosing one. Hoseok agrees, and you stretch your hands and then practice the movement of aiming the gun without overcorrecting each time. 

"Let's see ya get second place, this time," Jeongguk says close enough to make you flinch. 

The way his voice becomes low and inviting is definitely a problem. Goosebumps cover your arms, and you find yourself instinctively raising your shoulders as if to protect yourself.

"Let's see you get second," you quip back, facing Jeongguk in an attempt to sound playful while rolling your shoulders back in order to relax. 

Although Jeongguk rolls his eyes and says, "You wish," a familiar softness has returned to his gaze, which you are happy to see.

The second game is much easier, and although you make third place again, you are right on the tail of second, coming in almost at the exact same time. Jeongguk asks if you would like to try again, and you nod excitedly, never taking your hands off the metal gun handles. 

When the bell rings, signaling the start of the third game, Jimin and Taehyung approach, asking whether you two are ready to go to the next tent show, to which you both grunt in response. This time, it is only you and Jeongguk playing, and although his aim is much steadier, you are not too far behind him.  

Jeongguk gets first place for the third time in a row, and you come in at a reasonably close second. This time, the attendant who comes to offer Jeongguk his prize is Jack, clad head to toe in white. 

"Take your time and choose," he says, eyes trailing between Jeongguk, you, and the two standing behind you. "I will escort you to your seats for the next show."

Jeongguk seems to be eyeing up a large stuffed toy that hangs from the ceiling. It is a white rabbit with pretty pink accents on its nose and floppy ears, and it is droopy and round, as if it will sit up on its rear end if placed correctly. 

“It’s too big to carry,” he grumbles before looking at smaller trinkets down below, on a shelf along the left wall. 

“I can hold onto it for you,” Jack offers as he walks to the rabbit and begins to take it down. 

Jeongguk sounds elated as he asks, “Really?”

Jack shrugs, then turns with the rabbit in his hands. “Sure. Wanna touch it first?”

As Jack hands over the large rabbit, Jeongguk outstretches his hands. It is cute the way he inspects it, moving it side to side to make its ears flop before hugging it close. He nods, seemingly pleased, and hands it back to Jack.

"I'll have it in one of the tents until it is time for you to leave," he says, holding the rabbit in one hand while motioning with the other, saying, "Come with me."

You trail along the outside of the booth as Jack walks to the far right end, then he opens a little wooden half door and steps out. The attendant who ran the game earlier returns and begins to heckle passersby to come play. Meanwhile, you follow Jack to the back of the booth, along a path that only employees seem to use. 

"Are the four of you having fun today?" Jack asks over his right shoulder.

The others respond positively, Jimin sounding particularly excited. You hum in response, mostly under your breath while you graze your fingertips over the beak of the little duck keychain that hangs from your hip. 

You would have more fun if you knew where Yoongi was, and you worry that the more you move throughout the carnival grounds, the less chance you may have to find him. But his friends don't seem all that concerned. Perhaps they assume, as you do, that once he decides to come back, Jack or Hoseok will likely return him to you. 

Jack approaches the largest tent and pulls back a flap. Although there is light coming through the tall wooden bleachers, your eyes have to adjust to how dark the space is. You step in first, leaving enough room for the others to join, and waiting for Jack to drop the tent flap and lead the way. 

It is strange the way you seem to have preferential treatment, but you do not feel the urge to ask why. Something about it simply feels right, and you would hate to ruin the moment by asking too many pesky questions. 

Much like before, you are led along the wall of the tent, then to a well-lit path to seats at the very front of the show. Jack stands with his hand out, motioning for you to take your seats at the edge of the stage, and as you do so, you notice that the rest of the crowd is already in place, waiting patiently for the show to begin. 

The moment you sit in the fourth wooden seat from the aisle, a bright spotlight shines in the center of the space, and raucous organ music begins to play, causing you to jolt in surprise. You follow the spotlight, which dances in circles along the floor before trailing up to the ceiling where Seokjin stands in a little metal basket high up near the peak of the tent, holding the large wooden tentpole in one hand while he waves with the other. 

“Come one, come all!” Seokjin shouts, voice filling the large space. “Welcome to Carnival Bizarre! The greatest show in the world!”

The crowd cheers, and you find yourself smiling up at the man, feeling something in your tummy stir. You could swear he is looking down at you, and in that moment, you begin to clap. 

All at once, the spotlight and music cut, leaving the tent in quiet stillness. Audience members continue to clap, but most stop, replacing the movement with gasps and mutterings about what could be going on. 

And then a small spotlight shines in the center of the floor, where Seokjin stands beside three chairs. Now that he is much closer, you are certain that he faces you, although whether he can actually see you is hard to determine. 

"Who here has been to a hypnosis show before?" Seokjin calls, twisting his body to look toward the hands that rise throughout the crowd. 

For a split moment, your hand begins to lift, but then you keep it sitting in your lap, certain that this must be your first time. You glance around, noticing that about half of the hands in the crowd are raised. 

"As most of you are aware," Seokjin shouts, "hypnosis is not a trick of the mind, nor something that removes all autonomy from the person being hypnotized. While I may guide you along paths and suggest what you see, everything you conjure is your own, and you are fully capable of leaving the hypnotized state at any time."

All of this must be a disclaimer that Seokjin legally has to make. After all, you clearly remember feeling completely helpless and out of control of your own body while under his spell. But, to his credit, you also never made an attempt to fight for control. 

Seokjin asks, "Can I have three audience members volunteer to participate?" and the crowd goes fucking wild. People shoot up from their seats, waving their hands around maniacally, shouting and cheering to be the one Seokjin chooses. 

Slowly, you lift your hand. There is a pull to be on the stage – to be by Seokjin's side. And as you cautiously rise from your seat, hesitating with each movement because maybe this is something you should give a little more thought to, a spotlight finds you, causing you to lift your other hand to shield your eyes. 

A delicate hand taps your shoulder, and you notice Jack standing in front of you. He holds his hand out, palm facing up, and you squint into the spotlight as you take his hand and step over a short barrier separating you from the stage floor. 

Two others come onto the stage, but Seokjin's eyes are only on you. Nerves kick in, your cheeks burn hot, and the spotlight threatens to make you break into a sweat. How the Kims wear thick velvet jackets up here is a mystery; your thin everyday clothes feel obstructing and far too thick. 

Seokjin smiles and holds a palm toward the leftmost chair, and you take a seat. You are grateful there are several feet of space between each one, and you settle down with your hands on your knees. You attempt to look toward the audience to see if you can make out the silhouettes of your friends, but all you can see is a bright white light and vague hints of shadow. 

A slow, somewhat gloomy song plays from somewhere in the background. It is a subtle string arrangement with each cord hanging impossibly long before blending seamlessly to the next, and you find your body swaying ever so slightly as you listen. 

"I chose you three on the basis of never having been to a hypnosis show before," Seokjin informs. His voice booms through the space, and from where you sit, feels all-encompassing and electric. "It is natural to feel some nerves, but you are in good hands. You can back out and return to your seat at any time."

There is a pause that feels as if it stretches on far too long. Under the hot light, knowing so many eyes are on you, you feel antsy. 

Finally, Seokjin continues. "I want you all to focus on the music and take in a nice deep breath for me…"

You breathe in nice and slow, in through your nose. A long, shrill note is held in the accompanying song, causing you to sit somewhat alert, listening for what comes next. 

"...close your eyes for me…"

Your eyelids flutter closed.

"...and sink."

Two fingertips tap the underside of your chin, and despite the bright spotlight, all goes black. You hang in the liminal space of weightlessness, searching for the source of the string arrangement that continues to play. Now that it is just you, the music, and Seokjin in this space, you hear it much more clearly. 

"Take deep, slow breaths for me while your body fully submerges," Seokjin says. 

You could swear he is only speaking to you, somehow speaking through you, in this dark space only. And you do as you are told, gradually relaxing and falling deeper and deeper into this state of total relaxation with each breath.

"We all have something in our past that we dearly miss," Seokjin says. "Something that has been locked away, for one reason or another. Nothing traumatic or scary; nothing that is locked away for good reason. But something we seem to have…lost."

Seokjin snaps his fingers, and in a wave of thought and feeling, you are tangled in between two bodies, sweat covering your skin, exasperated. Hands caress your hair and face while others cover you in thick blankets. And although you do not see any faces or hear any voices, you know who these bodies belong to. Seokjin and Namjoon. 

You remember the thick, rough feeling of canvas tent flaps against your palms; the bitter, earthy smell of incense and burnt wood; the taste of absinthe lingering in hints of black licorice and anise on your tongue. 

Summer after summer, choosing tails to protect yourself and make yourself forget. 

Summer after summer, finding your way back to these two lovers who only call themselves brothers for the sake of the show. 

"How incestuous," you tease in a distant memory as hands undress you and lips suck at your skin. 

"Shut up," the deeper of the two voices growls in that tone that tells you that you have definitely done it this time – you're in trouble. 

You remember crying because you regret choosing tails. Every single time, you regret choosing to forget. 

"You'll be back," the brighter of the two voices promises as lips press softly to your forehead. "You always come back."

"I want to remember next time," you plead, hands desperately grasping for crushed velvet and hints of skin. 

The music swells around you – a crescendo of strings building and building, causing hot tears to stream down your face. You can sense the men but you cannot see them, and you desperately search the dark. You desperately need to find them. 

"Now do you remember?" Seokjin asks, voice greeting you in a low whisper. 

"Yes," you say, perhaps aloud, it is hard to tell. 

"Good," Seokjin responds. "Very good."

You feel elated. Jubilant. On top of the world.

Seokjin says just one word, "Dance."

And dance, you do. You throw your hands in the air and twist your body to the music, sweeping your limbs into a tendu, an arabesque, a pirouette. Never have you felt so happy to remember in all your life, and you twirl and twirl and twirl, never becoming dizzy. It is distant, but you think you can hear a crowd cheering. 

"Now stop," Seokjin instructs, and you could swear the music stops in the exact second your limbs do, as well. 

You had been in the middle of spinning, and your arms remain raised over your head in fifth position with your right leg raised in an arabesque. And although you remain stationary, hung in space, you cannot detect the weight of your own limbs.

"Return to me after the next show," Seokjin whispers softly in your mind. "Until then, follow the rabbit and do as he pleases. Seek pleasure and ensnare him for us, okay, ducky?"

"Yes," you whisper back, feeling the urge to cry. You continue to stand, frozen in the same position in deep, never-ending darkness.

That is, until Seokjin commands you to, "Open your eyes."

Your eyes open, and you find yourself in the center of the stage, with your arms and right leg raised. You do not tremble, but you are suddenly aware of the weight of your body. Strangely, though, you are unable to move. 

Seokjin shouts, from somewhere behind you, "Everyone, give a round of applause to our lovely little ballerina!"

You wish you could search for the source of his voice, but all you can do is stare ahead at the bright white light and faint silhouettes of audience members who clap and cheer. 

"Thank you, ducky," Seokjin mutters close to your left ear. "You may relax now."

With a deep exhale, your limbs fall. You sink into a slouching position before rolling your shoulders back and having a look around. The other two participants are sitting in their seats with their expressions wide, staring at you. On your cheeks are damp, heavy streaks from tears. 

"This concludes the hypnosis show!" Seokjin shouts, and once again, the crowd goes wild. "We will see you back here at five and seven!"

With hints of memory returned, you spin on the balls of your feet, eager to talk to Seokjin about what you saw and felt. But Jack is here to place a hand on your arm and gently guide you back toward your seat. 

"Wait," you mutter, voice desperate and perhaps a little too loud. "I need to—"

"Exit the tent first," Jack interrupts. "You can find your way back to him after the next illusions show."

Your friends are to the left of where you face, and Jack very sternly guides you in that direction, away from where Seokjin stands waving and smiling at the audience members who file out of their seats, toward the exit. You look over your shoulder, desperate to meet his eye, but he seems to look in every direction but yours.

As you approach, the three men come into view, and they are all clapping with their eyes on you. Jeongguk, in particular, appears to be seeing you in a new light, and the longer he stares with wide, curious eyes, the more antsy you become. 

"Wow!" Jimin shouts as Taehyung says, "That was so cool!"

"Thanks," you mutter, eyes falling to the white tent floor. You walk along the edge of the stage, then join your friends in the walkway as they shuffle toward the exit with Jimin and Taehyung in the lead. 

From behind, to your left, Jeongguk says, "I had no idea you were so flexible," in a tone that begs to entice, causing your cheeks and neck to burn hotter. 

You want to smack Jeongguk on the arm for being so forward, but you keep your eyes ahead, determined to get out of this tent and decide what to do in the meantime. The rest of the audience members file out of the space slowly enough that you sway into each heavy step that you take, able to see the sun shining in from the wide mouth of the tarp but unable to reach it. 

"I want to go back into the Hall of Mirrors," Jeongguk says, quiet enough for only you to hear. 

"Why?" you ask, turning your head but not enough to see him. 

"You know why," Jeongguk responds. 

The crowd ahead stops, and Jeongguk steps close, pressing himself against your back. The warmth of his body behind yours makes you sigh. 

"We shouldn't—" you begin, but Jimin turns briefly with a huff and shakes his head, just as impatient to exit as you are. 

"Come on, don't be shy," Jeongguk says directly into your ear. "Let's have a little fun. I brought molly. We could roll in there."

The absolute last thing you need to do in a place like this is get high. But the idea is inviting. 

"Alright," you say. "But I don't want to miss the shows at five and seven."

Two warm hands grab onto your hips, rubbing up to your ribs and back down, letting go only when the crowd begins to move again. 

"You have a deal," Jeongguk says. "Let's get some water, pop some crystal, and lose the others."

Lose may not be the word you want to hear, considering you still have not found Yoongi. But you are feeling impulsive, eager, and curious. Something about the scenes you visualized during hypnosis has all of your nerves on edge, and you want to touch and tease and taste. You want to let go and sink into pleasure so badly, it is all you can think about. 

Seokjin urging you to follow the rabbit plays on in your mind, and you think back to the prize Jeongguk wanted to win. But what did Seokjin mean about ensnaring him? You wonder if you were just imagining that part. 

There is a persistent buzzing in the back of your mind, and although there are only two men who can answer the myriad questions you have, you decide it is best to go into the Hall of Mirrors with Jeongguk and worry about seeking answers later. 

Time seems to be running at a stretched and slowed pace, and you have until 5 for the next show. You are in no rush. 

달리 표현할 수 없어 Can't put in other words 우린 마치 처음부터 We click so well just like 알아온 것 같이 딱 맞지 We knew from the beginning Do you feel the same? My darling, come closer 함께인 것 같이 알아 나도 As if we're together, I know 이건 정말 미친 짓 같지 This is so crazy Do you feel the same?

🎵 visit the playlist!

apologies for the long gap between chapters! i was STUCK unsure what i was doing/where i was going with this, mainly in terms of pace. it took some time, but i have a lot figured out, so hopefully it is smooth sailing moving forward!!! chapter 4 is already fully outlined, pending the results of the upcoming polls!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MEAN THE WORLD, AND LIKES ARE APPRECIATED, TOO!!! STAY HYDRATED AND I WILL BE BACK TO TORMENT YOU SOONER THAN LATER, I HOPE! 🤍 POLLS WILL BEGIN TO GO UP IN THE NEXT 12-24 HOURS FOR CHAPTER 4!

🤹‍♀️ tag list: @agustdsciggy @andreargu @bangtan-tee-86 @eoieopda @idkjustlovingbts @itsshaydeekaydee @jjungkookislife @kiki-zb @mamidescarada @manuosorioh @melancholy-of-nadia @mgthecat @moonleeai @secfir @sweetestofchaos @unsureofwhathappens @valhallawhispers @violetsiren90 🎪 visit the master post to read the disclaimer & request to be tagged!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Carnival of Terror is a Goosebumps-inspired fic, copyright theharrowing 2023 - 2024. no translations or reposting allowed!

[chimaeraonwards]

freedom, choice, and dreams - a perspective of a newbie one piece fan from opla

I am scared of saying what my dreams are. It feels stupid hanging on to something I don't know if I'll ever see come true. These dreams are the ones I hold to my chest, afraid that someone would find it.

Would they treat me with pity? Would they laugh? Would they tell me to give up?

It gets harder to believe in dreams as you grow older. My escape that was books and fandom became reminders that I simply wasn't the chosen one who gets to do something and be someone. I'm the side character that gets killed off in episode 2 in a flashback in someone else's story.

I wasn't destined to be the one who can make change on the world since before I was born like Harry Potter. I'm not the one who gets chosen by a master in the field I love to be his successor like Midoriya Izuku. My parents are not secretly some kind of god like Percy Jackson. There is no wardrobe, no lion, no witch to take me away where I can finally be somebody.

I'm just me, a nobody, stuck in a house haunted by my ghosts, with my dreams out of reach. The stories that used to be my escapism start to feel like painful reminders.

And then I watched the One Piece Live Action. For the first time in a long time, I saw adults who were not the chosen ones, on the wrong side of power, stuck in everyday monotony.

They were surviving, but they weren't alive.

If you look in the mirror, would it sound more familiar?

The One Piece Live Action showed me characters who have beautiful dreams and yet, don't believe that they could ever reach them? By all means, how would they? Nami was stuck in a situation she had limited control over her freedom, Usopp was literally all alone and no one believed him, Sanji was held back by obligation and realism, and Zoro was lost wasn't strong enough. Heck even Koby was stuck on a ship being mistreated with literally no way to escape.

And then Luffy came around.

Luffy, the goofy embodiment of freedom, joy, silliness, and has the emotional intelligence the size of the entire ocean.

He showed them that there was a choice. You had the choice to believe that you can reach your dreams. He showed them that no dream was too crazy, too big, too small, too unimportant. You deserve to make it a reality.

Immediately I was hooked. Diving into the manga, I think that what Luffy does is gives the space to people to let their heart want their dream.

And then he fights for them.

Think about what's stopping you from reaching your dream. Is it money? Support? Access to power? Strength? Knowledge?

Fighting for your dream isn't as pretty as faith, trust, and pixie dust. It's brutal. It's heartache. It's sacrifice. But most of all, it's never giving up, even when you're broken.

The Straw Hats show that having the freedom to chase your dreams isn't a lonely journey. You need to lend a hand to people on the way there, and they will do the same for you.

On the other side of this idealist dream chasing optimism, One Piece beautifully shows the harsh reality, that some dreams won't be reached in your lifetime. But like Gol D. Roger, Red Leg Zeff, Otohime, maybe, just maybe, you can help someone else reach that same goal you had. We will all die someday, but our dreams can live forever. And isn't that a beautiful thing?

The Straw Hat Pirates unapologetically declare their dreams out loud, not afraid of what anyone else has to say about them.

Maybe I should take some advice from them.

👟 I'm going to find a way and be able to continue my education.

[aspenceart]

This is random and I don’t know how to say this, but I just adore your art— your way of drawing plants/animals, patterns, etc is insanely technically skilled, and the compositon and style is amazingly creative! I love how there’s such a variety of patterns and subjects, yet they’re all connected through similar styles, colors, etc.

Sorry for rambling! All this is to ask if you have any tips for beginner artists/artists wanting to start with digital art/improve their work.

Have a nice day/night! :)

Hi! So sorry for not answering this for forever, it got lost in the inbox ;-;

Thank you so much for the love! I really appreciate it. As for tips, it's always hard to come up with something that hasn't already been parroted a million times xD but, I'd say some of the best advice I've ever received is that you should focus less on the end result of your art and more on the process it takes you to get there.

It's easy to end up cultivating a style that looks stunning at the end, but that you dislike every moment of getting to that end result. That's a great way to burn out and start avoiding art. However, if you try and forget for a moment about what you think the end result should be, and just focus on enjoying the process of creation, then you'll end up happier and more fulfilled.

Now, it's good to still challenge yourself and you shouldn't discard techniques simply because you aren't skilled with them yet. But if you've worked at something and learned how to apply it, but you still dislike the act of doing it, then don't force yourself to keep going. For example, my art style includes little-to-no lineart and is highly stylized. This was, in large part, driven by my actual dislike of drawing lineart. I just rarely found it fun, despite having the skill to do it. Likewise, I actually used to paint realistic pet portraits for commissions. Eventually I realized how much I didn't enjoy the long rendering process and I shifted away from realism. Focusing on color and shape and pattern are all things I really love about my process and style.

TLDR; At the end of the day, just chase the things you enjoy.

Hope that was helpful! <3

[game-boy-pocket]



I can't believe there are people that think Super Mario Wonder looks weird because the characters aren't facing perfectly to the side and are instead turned 3/4.

Half the reasons why the New Super Mario Bros series is considered to be a very bland looking set of games is because they re-use the environments a lot. The other half is the very dull poses and animations in the characters. Mario facing perfectly to the side just looks "meh", and he didn't start doing it until New Super Mario Bros.

Before that, he was always turned 3/4 toward the viewer ( SMB and the old arcade era games being exceptions but those were very primitive ), and he wasn't the only one. Yoshi in Yoshi's Island. Sonic the Hedgehog. Master Higgins. Bonk. The Belmonts. Kirby. Heck, some devs in the 2.5D era caught on to the fact that perfect side view is shitty very early. Like, imagine a world in which Kirby was not turned 3/4 to the viewer.

Like... video games didn't start doing the "perfectly facing to the side" thing until the advent of 2.5D and ha's because people were too busy chasing the realism dragon to realize that something was lost in that transition, much like how animated films have only just made the realization that "oh wait, these are cartoons, they can exaggerate and do squash and stretch and be expressive"

shots in profile should be brief and done with purpose. Watch any animated TV show and you'll realize how infrequent profile or even full frontal shots are compared to good old reliable 3/4. Love 3/4 view. Embrace it.

[tobi-smp]

here’s a controversial take: I think the idea that 3d animation will Inherently age and become ugly no matter how far it evolves or what techniques are used is outdated. 

have you ever seen the first instances of 2d animation trying rotoscope? have you ever seen the ways cartoons moved when we were still figuring out what the rules for animation Were?

2d animation doesn’t always hold up, it’s unsettling and strange and not because that was the intent. and there can be Charm in that, but the same could also be said about 3d animation. 

and I think part of it is that most people today Saw that rise in 3d animation, saw the first stumbles into fully 3d movies (and could compare it to the relatively seamless integrations of 3d into 2d films), while the birth of 2d animation was over 100 years now. there’s good 2d animation and there’s bad 2d animation, but the idea that 2d Could age poorly is lost on some people.

but I think another part of it is the idea that 3d animation can only ever chase hyper-realism, and that it will always fall short as technology allows animators to grow closer and closer to it. the idea that Everything old will fall into the uncanny valley the moment we have something new to compare it to.

and it’s a bit ridiculous honestly.

tangled came out in 2010, it’s Over 10 years old. we can look back on it now and it’s Not a fight with the visuals to watch the movie. and even That was still a point when disney was finding it’s footing.

do people Really think that something like into the spiderverse is going to reach a point where it’s ugly? arcane? the new puss in boots?

there’s a threshold that’s been met where animators understand what works within a medium, understand their own vision for a work, and Create That Vision as they intended. That’s what makes visuals timeless, when something with an Identity is made with the understanding of its medium and how to bend and shape it to Be that identity.

we’re well into the era where people are creating 3d art that’s going to be timeless. the idea that all cgi is doomed to age into mediocrity is just Silly. there’s good 2d animation and there’s bad 2d animation, there’s good 3d animation and there’s bad 3d animation

[worldsfromhoney]

Ficlet Masterlist

Each ficlet has its respective warnings so pay heed to them!! I aint responsible if you don’t know how to spot the big red warnings 👁️👄👁️

Gen All The Way

Tar dan Elif

High fantasy. An assassin goes about an assignment. It’s their favourite one yet

tints, tones, tests

Punk. The occupant of a room sees two worlds in one and makes a choice

pristine clean

Magic realism. The cleaner of souls heeds the call. The body’s in a forest

this winter we played

Medieval. A statue shows up in town. It’s not as cold or unmovable as they think

Ornaments Along the Parapet

Modern. She decides to go to the old railroad bridge

counting on

Historical. This child gets candy. The price? Freedom

…and so on!

Queer platonic

The Crowning Jewel

Cyberpunk. The rebels go and rob critical information. They get more than they expected

Lines of Power

High Fantasy. An undead necromancer goes for a sleepover at a witch’s house. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Throw Thy Pride

Modern. After being imprisoned, a government agent comes back home. It doesn’t mean he comes back whole

Not Like This

Urban Fantasy. A chicken humanoid gets a scare and the farmhand is there for comfort. It’s not as easy as it sounds

S.A.D.

Modern. One day, the tattoo shop remains closed and its florist neighbour needs answers. It’s somehow what they expected and not at all

Tears For You

Medieval. The knight sees the servant when they start crying. It is on their honour that they help stem the tears

Let Me

Xianxia. A master healer’s junior comes back to the sect. It doesn’t mean they came back whole

A Home With You

Modern Dæmon AU. Local tour guide approaches seemingly lost tourist. They get more than they expect

When in Rome

Steampunk. You come upon a stranger being dismantled and torn apart. You stay and witness.

…and so on!

Gay Gay Gay

what use are labels (with you)?

Modern. A chase between a hero and a villain. To what end will they reach?

With My Heart and Soul

Historical. The best bachelor in Roma’s looking for something. He finds it in a house he’s too familiar with

He Who Tends, He Who Mends

Medieval. A knight comes home from war. He finally gets taken care of

This Godly Taste

Historical Fantasy. Playing a game with a god never ends up well. Not even if you’re the pharaoh

Jewels of Mine

Historical. In the eyes of God, love is not a sin. In this case, it is and he cannot stop wavering

My Dear Thief

High Fantasy. A thief just wants to start a new life, free from the past. But everyone dreams and so does he

Vivre Notre Amour

Historical. A revolutionary sneaks into the bedroom of one of the most protected nobles in France. They talk as they always do

…and so on!

Series Ish

Welcome to My Channel

Urban Fantasy. You go through your coming of age ceremony. You wonder how anyone gets through adulthood like this

PART ONE

FINALE

To Fall and Fall to Rise

Urban Fantasy. After years of freedom, Val’s mother calls for him. What else is he to do but come?

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

FINALE

Imposter Syndrome

Urban Sci-Fantasy. Del’s mother is dying and it’s time he claims the thing he wants most—or the person

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

FINALE

…and so on!

Do interact with this post (like/rblg/comment) if you want to be added to the taglist for any future works !!

Have fun reading love 💛💛💛

[casadegatos]

Thank you @shutterbug-12 for the tag!

TAG GAME: EIGHT SHOWS TO GET TO KNOW ME

Going in order of oldest to newest. And I'm only including shows that have a complete run, so there's that. (that's not a rule, I just did that for me)

MASH

I don't always love a sitcom, but watching MASH was a family activity. Growing up we had one TV, it was before the internet and home computers, so we watched what Dad chose usually (more on that later). MASH was a lot of things, but mostly it taught me about being yourself in a group, that it was okay to be whatever you were and that you could make a family anywhere.

The Rockford Files

Jim Rockford, being witty and sarcastic but also a loving son and good friend, driving fast and solving cases as an ex-con Korean War vet in 1970s LA. What's not to love about all that? Dad really had an iron grip on the TV guide back in those days and for a kid some of the plots didn't make sense, but I have rewatched the whole series multiple times and I'm here to tell you, a lot of it holds up. What does it say about me? I guess it says that I really like car chases and easily solved mysteries wrapped up in some wide lapels. But also I guess that James Garner as Rockford is a blueprint for the kind of hero I enjoy (flawed but ulitmately kind and very loyal).

Twin Peaks

This is becoming about my Dad here, but this is another show that we both loved. Turns out, my Dad likes the weird stuff, too. This is the last show that we watched together regularly before I moved out. Narratively who knows wtf happens in any David Lynch joint, but that's not really the point to me. I love the absurd, dark, haunting elements it makes me think about. Sometimes it's incomprehensible and that's okay. Just like life.

Justified

The show that teaches you that dialogue makes the character. Boyd Crowder will forever be one of my favorite characters solely because of his dialogue (and Walton Goggins's delivery). Every character on this show has a distinct way of speaking and behaving and it is really one of the most enjoyable shows ever just for that reason. I have never dug coal, but I feel like I have after spending time with these characters. I guess this one says that I like realism sometimes? Also, a flawed but ultimately kind and loyal hero (Raylan Givens, meet Jim Rockford).

Orphan Black

I could go on for days about what this show means, but others have already done that better than I could, so I'll just say this: we all contain multitudes. Also, Tatiana Maslany should have won every acting award ever during her time on this show. Another show that made me think about how being yourself is really complicated sometimes and we don't always figure it out alone (found family, etc, etc).

Parks and Rec

A workplace comedy? On my list? Yes, and it's this one. Always makes me laugh and I see a bit of how I act with coworkers in a lot of the characters (not Leslie usually, but Ron frequently).  Gently sending up living in the Midwest while not making fun of it, mostly. Lost count of how many times I've watched this one.

Ripper Street

A flawed yet ultimately kind and loyal hero, crime solving, my favorite era of history, some of the best dialogue on any TV show, interesting and twisty plots, one of my all-time favorite actors, incredible attention to detail, and a very satisfying ending not to mention one of the nicest, kindest, and welcoming fandoms. Did I mention found family and workplace comedy? That's there too. (Edmund Reid, Raylan Givens, and Jim Rockford walk into a bar...wait, I'm only one person, get in line boys) One of my desert island shows, my go-to in times of stress, the thing I always recommend to people looking for something good (so long as they can stomach blood, that is).

Did you get to know me? lol, well maybe you'll watch one of these if you haven't before and find a new favorite.

Tagging a few people (participation only by your choice ofc) or just do it if you feel moved! @lizardsarevcool @hickeywiththegoodhair @valoricky @watchfuldeer @jennykin @quinnfabreys @swankpalanquin

[fipindustries]

This is for the Book ask chart.

Fantasy or sci-fi?

Fiction or non-fiction?

How many bookshelves do you have?

What’s your favourite book?

sci fi, 100%, verne were the first novels that i learned to read, i love fantasy but sci fi will always be where my heart and mind is at.

i almost exclusively read fiction, at least in book format, i do read a lot of essays and articles and such from all around the internet but there are few and far between the non fiction books i read, this is something i should do a lot more because i know there are genuenly interesting non fic books out there and i keep asking my family to gift me some every christmass and birthday but they have no idea what to give me

in my current home i have two, one for normal "conventional" literary books and novels and another one for weird internet stuff i buy online and also my own works

...

how does one even begin to approach that question?

there was a time where i could have answered that question easily, many different times in fact, and in each of those the answer would have changed.

i think the longest lasting answer, the one that held the throne the longest was

the warm up battle.

at a first glance it seems like a wes anderson movie.

a man with giantism gets lost in the woods while being chased by a wolf that speaks latin and he comes across a quaint little town where he is taken care of by a... really weird woman and her even weirder daughter who may or may not have psychic powers.

is 100% magical realism, is argentinian magical realism, is the best kind of fiction straddling the line between surrealism and fantasy and just plain weird shit.

is also one of the most delightful and endearing cast of characters ever put to page, in what is probably the most whimsical little town in the south of argentina.

also a woman who is a political prisoner and was tortured by the genocidal dictators that ruled the country at the time gets raped in jail by a military man. so. yeah. like i said, a wes anderson movie.

this is probably one of those books i've re-read the most.

now, lets give an honorable mention to almost nowhere, which is quickly supplanting this book in my mind and if it manages to stick the landing it will be cemented as my favourite book of all time.

[zorquil]

I keep thinking about how whimsy is lost in films nowadays. Usually, most films go for an extreme, whether it be aiming for the highest quality, playing it safe, or just making something to ride on the biggest trend.

To be honest, I miss the whimsy and weirdness of some older films. And I'm not talking just about cult classics like Treasure Planet or Iron Giant (boy hunts space treasure or big robot wanting to be Superman). These are whimsy and weird, but they're also deep. The one's I'm thinking about are the lighthearted weird whimsy whose purpose is to be silly and fun. Right now, I'm in a Christmas mindset when I think of this, so I'll give three examples from animated Christmas movies/specials.

The Twelve Days of Christmas (1993): We got punny names like Princess Silverbell, Sir Carolboomer, Hollyberry. Princess Silverbell gets annoyed by Hollyberry's literal gifts only because the King wants to finish his crossword. Oh, also there's the fact that Hollyberry and Sir Carolboomer take the list literally to a tee, where, in the first gift, they uproot a pear tree with a partridge in it. And to round it out, the Princess is making the ridiculous decision of whoever makes her laugh will be her bride without verbally poking fun at the premise because we know it's ridiculous and silly. Peak whimsy.

Olive, the Other Reindeer (1999): Plot only kicks off because of a bug living in Olive's doghouse completely mishears her father and telling her she's the other reindeer. Also a dog is roommates with a flea. We have a freaking mailman villain trying to stop Olive from saving Christmas, and the mailman is such a ham about hating Christmas. Also the fact that Olive, the one trying to save Christmas, is literally just a dog. Also, reindeer bar. Pretty good whimsy, even if it does get darker at times.

Frosty the Snowman (1969): HAPPY BIRTHDAY! A magician's hat brings Frosty to life, and that's all the explanation needed. Plot is literally getting Frosty to the North Pole so he can keep living. Also, the magician has the cliché twisted curly mustache to signal his villainy. Also also, the fact that the magician literally chases Frosty to the ends of the North Pole just to get his hat back. Give me my hat indeed! And finally, Karen. Just a simple premise for a fun movie (despite it being a 24-minute episode length).

Sometimes, I just miss the simple, lighthearted stories where it doesn't try to overdo its premise. Where it just plays things straight and has fun with what it's doing. But now, everything has to be "the big thing" and has to "blow everything out of the water". Sometimes, I just wish movies could just take their time and appreciate the atmosphere, delving into silliness and whimsy with good quality and pacing. But many movies nowadays are so focused on showing off and being loud and fast and having a heavy focus of realism and "explaining the magic" or just focused on being politically correct. And the movies who try to be silly mock the premise instead of just enjoying it. The reason why I chose Christmas movies for my list is because Christmas tends to have more lighthearted and silly films, just having fun with their premise without playing seriously.

I still do love a lot of shows and movies that have come out that are deep and story-driven, but after watching Adam Sandler's Leo and how it had that 1990s/2000s energy, I sorta started missing the silly whimsy of some past movies. Of course, Leo had deep messages too, but the presentation of that movie still had that glimmer of the inherently crazy silliness lacking in media nowadays.

[erscogadatabase]

19: The Search for a Universal Translator

Date: 1-1-2024 IDST

Dukermin: *attempting to train Shadow Dog how to heel*

Shadow dog: *runs away through the invisible fence*

Snape: *smirks through window*

Nalitie: *in the front yard, inspecting the warehouse trying to find the door* *knocking on walls* *is a little sleep deprived*

Dukermin: *runs through the backyard chasing the dog* *sees Nalitie* Hey… what are you doing in my backyard..?

Nalitie: Oh… this is the backyard? *spinning in slow circles*

Dukermin: Yep, no doors back here. Hey I learned this new trick, Nalitie, heel! *leads Nalitie to the front of the house*

Nalitie: *following, a little confused*

Dukermin: *goes inside* So whats up?

Nalitie: Ummmm y’know, the usual, taking care of four kids, doing lots of paperwork, *mutters something incomprehensible under her breath*

Dukermin: Ah sure sure, you should drop the kids off here for a day… or.. Two. Snape can babysit! *Smiles sweetly at Snape*

Snape: I’m not a babysitter. I teach young adults, and even that was against my will.

Dukermin: Well, if the kids show up… You know… someone will have to take care of them, most likely somBODy who lives in this warehouse rent-free…

Snape: hmph.

Nalitie: Christine and William are watching the kids right now. Steven’s been at GCL for the past 3 days straight working through housing everyone and figuring out where they came from…

Dukermin: Wait, who is William??

Nalitie: … uh, William? My husband? You’ve met, right? Like a while ago?

Dukermin: …Willy Wonka? I thought that was just his name like Mary Sue or something… Willy Wonka…

Nalitie: … *seems a little anxious* no, his full name is definitely William and he would tell you as much if you asked…

Dukermin: Did… did he tell you this? William seems wrong… like there are other options, Wilbur - i could see him as a wilbur - willard… willbert… idk.

Nalitie: Uh anyway… I came over here because I need to do something other than the uh… research I’ve been doing recently.

Dukermin: Do you want to train my dog?

Shadow Dog: *is now inside the house nipping at Snape’s robe*

Snape: *has his wand out, one more bite away from snapping* Would you please take this infernal creature somewhere else?

Dukermin: Shadow Dog, no! Go to your kennel!

Shadow Dog: *disappears into an interdimensional kennel space*

Nalitie: Maybe after he’s had some time to wind down… I have been doing a lot of research into the worlds outside of Erscoga trying to find where everyone’s from. It looks like it’s mostly things we know. I’ve also been learning a LOT about like… things kind of suck out in the multiverse.

Dukermin: Yeesh… that’s too bad. Do you know like… why it sucks?

Nalitie: ‘Cause Authors are interested in portraying the real-world inequalities and tragedies they see in their own lives through fictional worlds in the name of realism. Also a lot of Storylines revolve around war??? And much worse ones than the one we had.

Dukermin: Man.. We really do live in a society… or I guess … multiple. Societies. Hye you know what happens in societies sometimes? People randomly go missing! Hey guess what! The princess of Lux is missinG!

Snape: Smooth.

Dukermin: Yeah I was just y’know… randomly thinking about how way back in document three we started a story point and totally forgot about it til recently… so…

Nalitie: … Yeah ok, beats holing up in my basemennnnnt uh I mean doing paperwork.

Dukermin: yeah basement paperwork blows. We should go solve a missing persons case.

(AND SO they went to Lux! Storyline go!)

Dukermin: *dons three pairs of sunglasses*

(You have arrived in a sea of doors of all shapes and sizes: revolving doors, sliding glass doors, fancy double doors, simple wooden doors… as far as the eye can see.)

Dukermin: *admiring the doorknobs* I love a good rubbed bronze doorknob.

Nalitie: *lost somewhere in the sliding door section*

Dukermin: Hey are we in the mother Menards?

Nalitie: Oh, this is a Menards? No wonder there are so many doors… *looking at a very secure-looking door and lock set* I wonder if William would like this for our bunker…

Dukermin: I feel like you’re just doubling down on his name for the heck of it but probably. He seems like a chrome guy.

Nalitie: *yelling* is the princess of Lux somewhere in this Menards? Can she come to the checkout counter please???

Shoppers: *ignore*

Dukermin: We might need to get the employees call on the phone thing like when you lose a child. *heads to checkout*

Nalitie: Oh. *follows her*

Cashier: Did you find everything okay?

Dukermin: No actually.

Nalitie: *doesn’t have any items*

Dukermin: We’re looking for the Princess of Lux. Could you check in the back?

Cashier: *is a confused human who has not left the Menards since it was born* *knows nothing of the outside world, or how to handle this situation* Do you have the SKU for that item?

Dukermin: *looks at Nalitie*

Nalitie: Uh. 2. Wait, no, 7?

Dukermin: Oh wait we forgot to bring the rebate receipts!!

Nalitie: *checking her pockets* I don’t think I have my wallet anyway. I think I left it at home. Maybe I could call William?

Dukermin: Ugh no its fine, lets just come back next time we’re in town.

Nalitie: I don’t like leaving without buying anything…

Dukermin: Right thats awkward *buys a soda or whatever*

Cashier: That will be 5 Slices, please. Oh, wait, 6 Slices with tax.

Dukermin: *hands over six crumpled slices. One of them is scotch-taped together*

Cashier: *shoves the Bread in the register* *inspecting the taped slice to make sure it’s not counterfeit* *puts it in the register, prints their receipt*

Dukermin: Alrighty *leaving the store* So… where should we start to find this princess?

Nalitie: *looking around the Wild Lands as if she’s never seen them before* Um… I guess walk in a direction until we reach civilization?

Dukermin: Do we know what she’s the princess of?

Nalitie: Uh… what was the name of that first kingdom we went to? It would be that. With Anora.

Dukermin: *consults pocket diary* Okay lets see… document 3… dear diary… today we adventured to Lux, we wanted to go to one places and then we went to the wrong place and then they brought us to Licvitis… That’s probably it then! Licvitis. If my internal compass is correct, that should be south!

(And so they headed south… into Gaval.)

Guard: *patrolling the border*

Dukermin: And here we are!! The lovely land of Licvitis!! Looks just how I remember. And here’s a friendly Licvitis guard, hello there, you look familiar!

Aalok: Ah, you are the strange Menardsians who got lost here before. This is Gaval. I will show you to the Licvitis border again.

Dukermin: Man I hate when the map rearranges on me…

(And so they were escorted to Licvitis… finally.)

(actual) Licvitis guard: *patrolling the streets near the capital*

Dukermin: Excuse me! We are on a missing persons case… perhaps you’ve heard of the victim: The Princess !

Licvitis guard: The Princess Adrienne is safe in the palace. I saw her this morning. *has a weird tone, a little short with them*

Dukermin: *to Nalitie* Wow we’re really good at this.

Nalitie: Is that the princess we’re looking for? *seems like she remembers none of this*

Dukermin: Uhhh I don’t know, we could go check.

Nalitie: *shrugs* ok.

(As you walk through town, you pass a big statue, which is wreathed in flowers and fairy lights. Looks like a memorial of some sort.)

Dukermin: *searching for some sort of inscription*

(The statue is of a Lumoae in a long, flowing gown. Her eyes are closed, and she has long hair—nearly all of the way down her back. A wreath of flowers has been placed on her head, seemingly recently. A plate on the bottom of the statue, nearly obscured by flowers, reads as follows: “Twshyy Sage. Snomrnn soi ibg tetttfogu.”)

Dukermin: *sounding the words out but obviously that won’t help* *grabs a passerby* Hey can you translate? *points to inscription*

Guy: N ibg paasu yao aeegklng, Menardsian.

Dukermin: Man don’t other realities have like super good translation devices? How do we not have that yet?

Nalitie: *has some dictionaries in the works* Language is hard, man. Uh… let’s see, what are some realities that have a lot of languages? Like a lot of works of fiction don’t have their own languages uhhhhh *head is filled with disco funk and she cannot think*

Dukermin: Like Star Wars…

Nalitie: Oh yeah! We could go there! Actually, there was a world in that universe I was researching the other night anyway, we could start there? Messing with them is unlikely to result in a universal collapse, I think, their planet collapses anyway.

Dukermin: yeah the princess has been missing this long, she can wait a little longer!

(And so they went to the Star Wars universe… in space. It is very cold and you are suffocating.)

Dukermin: *Encases the two of them in a cosmic bubble* So uhh… *gestures to All of Space* where are we trying to go?

Nalitie: *looking up a map, hoping she has enough Interdimensional Cell Service out here…* Uhhh nope, no bars. I’m looking for Mandalore? *yelling into space* can someone point the way?????

(You see nothing but the twinkling stars. Oh, and a ship, getting steadily closer. As it passes you, you see the pilot gawking at you.)

Dukermin: *waving arms and rolling the cosmic bubble like a hamster ball after the ship* Hey stop!

(The ship does look like it’s turning around. You see a hatch open in the side.)

Dukermin: I sure hope they’re friendly! * rolls the bubble in*

Spaceship crew member: *greets them as they enter* Um. Hello. Everything alright?

Dukermin: Peachy! We are actually interdimensional travelers on the hunt for Mandalore. Are you headed that way at all?

Crew: Well, you’re on the right side of the galaxy, I guess. We’re on our way to Coruscant, so that’s pretty out of our way, but you can ask the captain, I guess. Oh, I’m Jillson.

Dukermin: Nice to meet you, I’m Dukermin.

Nalitie: I’m Nalitie. Where is your captain?

Jillson: Captain Nyst is up in the cockpit, come with me. *leads the way*

Captain Nyst: *still gawking at Nalitie and Dukermin as they walk in*

Dukermin: hey you’re that guy. Anyway. We hear you’re going to Coruscant. We’re wondering if we could just get dropped off at Mandalore.

Captain Nyst: Ah… *finally shakes off his surprise* Well. Usually I would say I’m on a tight schedule, but I suppose for a couple of er… survivors? If you’ve got the fortitude to be out in space unprotected like that, I guess Mandalore is probably a good place for you.

Dukermin: Yeah we are.. Fortuitous. Yes that would be incredibly helpful, thank you.

Captain Nyst: *nods head, sets course for Mandalore* I’m gonna jump into hyperspace, you might wanna buckle up. Then again, you were just out in space, so maybe that doesn’t matter to you.

Dukermin: Yeah who cares about vehicle safety. *buckles anyway*

Nalitie: I’ve got kids at home, I can’t risk flying through the windshield if you crash. *also buckles in*

Jillson: Hm. *also sits and buckles in*

(And so Captain Nyst, Jillson, Nalitie, and Dukermin arrived at the docks outside of Sundari, Mandalore’s domed capital city. A guard walks up to the ship as Captain Nyst opens the ramp for you.)

Dukermin: *greets the guard*

Guard: Do you have a landing permit?

Dukermin: *hands the guard a slice of bread and winks*

Guard: …?

Nalitie: It’s ok, he’s not actually landing here. *waves goodbye to Captain Nyst as he flies off* *starts walking off into the city*

Guard: ???! *following them* Excuse me, but I need your identification.

Dukermin: *hands over American passport*

Nalitie: *fishing around for her old Ask Erik! ID* *pulls out another slice of (breadless) bread instead* May I offer you a few slices instead? I seem to have forgotten my papers on the ship…

Guard: *confusedly looking through the passport, unable to read any of what it contains*

Dukermin: Ignore that the name on there is not my actual name. We’re like… diplomats!

Nalitie: Oh, yeah! We’re queens from uh… really far away, and we’re here to speak with your duchess about a trade agreement. I’m Nalitie, and this is Dukermin. Can we go in now?

Dukermin: *thumbs up*

Guard: *calling for backup, so they can be arrested*

Dukermin: I dont think were going to be let in…

Nalitie: Should we run?

Dukermin: Yes but where?

Nalitie: Probably the palace.

Dukermin: *starts climbing the walls of the bio-dome*

Nalitie: I don’t think it’s open on the top???

Dukermin: *slides down*

Nalitie: I say we just run. If we can explain ourselves to her before the guards catch us, maybe it’ll be good.

Dukermin: So true. *books it inside*

Nalitie: *running after her* *trying to navigate* *yelling* We’re looking for the palace! It has big windows!

(Literally every building is made out of glass.)

Dukermin: *searching for an exceptionally large glass building* *or a map*

Guards: *chasing*

Nalitie: Maybe look for a building with lots of guards outside of it?

Dukermin: *tosses a lunchbox on top of a lower building and teleports to the roof to get away*

Nalitie: *trying to follow her*

(Eventually, you end up in a little hallway off the side of a building, leading down towards a door… Two impresssive looking guards in different armor than the rest stand at the door.)

Dukermin: Think fast! *tosses a lunchbox at one of them*

Guard: *catches it*

Dukermin: *teleports into it and knocks them over*

(The door opens, and an angry-looking woman stands in the entryway.)

Woman: What is going on here? *notices her guards sprawled on the floor, plus Dukermin the human projectile* *sees Nalitie, who is standing in the corner awkwardly and out of breath* *is not sure if she should be concerned for her life*

Dukermin: *scrambling to keep the guards pinned* Hello we are Diplomats

Guards: *struggling* My lady, run!

Nalitie: NO wait don’t do that! We are in fact diplomats I think!

Dukermin: Yes we’re here to work out a trade deal!

Nalitie: We have lots of food and we are not part of the Clone Wars at ALL!

Woman: *considering, looking back and forth between them* If you’re here diplomatically, then why are you sprawled on top of my guards and trying to break into my private quarters?

Dukermin: I always aim to do the funniest thing. Not always the best thing.

Nalitie: We uh don’t have valid identification so they wouldn’t let us in… but we are very trustworthy!

Dukermin: Yeah we’re not from around here, but our nation is very prosperous.

Woman: *shooting them an icy glare* perhaps if you weren’t being actively violent towards my guards, I would consider negotiating with you.

Dukermin: *getting off the guards* there, no more violence. We are diplomatic.

Guard: *getting up off the ground, staff in hand, ready to defend* My lady, I must insist that you—

Woman: *holds up a hand to him* Why are you really here? *still suspicious but willing to talk*

Dukermin: we’re hoping to acquire a universal translator. In return, we’ll mediate a deal between your society and our top farmers on Bensel. You can work out a food export arrangement.

Nalitie: We heard that you’ve been struggling with feeding your people and getting supplies, and we have a LOT of those.

Woman: What planet are you from? I can’t say that I’ve ever seen you in the Galactic Senate. Are you Separatists, then?

Dukermin: we are a completely separate entity. Like super separate. Very much not from here. We’re from Erscoga, which is a system of eight planets, including Bensel, which is a rich farming planet looking to export goods.

Nalitie: Plus, not all of our residents eat like… normal food, so we have plenty to go around for everyone!

Woman: If you’re so far removed from the Clone Wars, then how did you know that Mandalore needed resources? *literally does not even know their names*

Dukermin: we’ve got our sources.

Nalitie: the same way we knew you’d be here in Sundari, and where your quarters were, Duchess. *knowing wink*

Woman: ?????

Dukermin: *doesn’t know Star Wars very well and isn’t sure who this is but winks anyway*

Woman: *is trying not to show that she is in fact desperate for resources for her people* And how can I trust you when you haven’t even introduced yourselves? Despite the fact that it appears you’ve been spying on our internal affairs.

Dukermin: Oh I’m Queen Dukermin. It’s nice to meet you.

Nalitie: And I’m, um, Nalitie.

Woman: Duchess Satine Kryze. Although it seems you already knew that? *still kinda suspicious*

Dukermin: I didn’t *shrugs*

Nalitie: I did :)

Dukermin: Anyway thoughts on the trade deal? It’s kinda… super in your favor over ours.

Satine: *thinking it over* I think I would like to know more about who I’m dealing with before I agree to anything.

Dukermin: Would you like to visit our planet(s)? You can bring some guards if that would make you feel better.

Guards: *standing around awkwardly, a little bruised*

Satine: I… suppose I could put Almec in charge for a few hours… I’m surprised the customs officers let you dock here, though.

Dukermin: Oh we didn’t *makes a bubble* I would like to invite you into my bubble *gestures dramatically*

Nalitie: *squeezing into the bubble*

Satine: ????

(It seems as though she has never seen this type of power before.)

Satine: And… how exactly does that substitute for a ship?

(The bubble abruptly takes off into the sky.)

Satine: !!!

Nalitie: *yelling from above* and it’s totally airtight so you don’t die out there! It’s magic!

*the bubble returns to the ground*

Satine: Hm. Alright, fine; I suppose I’ll take you up on your offer. *takes a minute to get everything set up with leaving Almec in charge*

(Satine and a handful of her guards squeeze into the bubble as well. It’s crowded, like the world’s most awkward elevator ever.)

Nalitie: hello.

Dukermin: Alright… Going up? *send the bubble into space and through a portal to… the space around termata*

(As you pass through the portal, you have the dizzying feeling of floating upside down, then everything settles back into the artificial gravity within the cosmic bubble. Termata sits below you, a beautiful ball of blue and green. Lux shines in the distance, followed closely by the dark spot of Dunkel.)

Dukermin: *pointing* The big one is Termata, sort of our capital city. The one you shoudn’t look directly at is Lux, kind of our sun but people also like live on there. The dark one is Dunkel… etc etc

Nalitie: *looking around for Bensel, which must be behind Termata from this view*

Satine: I see… And which one is the one you are in charge of?

Dukermin: Kind of.. All of them? But they also are kinda like… each allowed to do their own thing. I guess you could call it an empire hehe.

Satine: *squinting suspiciously at Dukermin* Ah. And… where exactly in the galaxy did you say we were? I’m sure the Republic would be thrilled to hear that there’s a coalition of planets calling themselves an empire, given the fact that we have planets who have already seceded to form their Confederacy.

Dukermin: Dang I wish I knew more about Star Wars. ANyway, we’re like. 20 clicks or something IDK space measurements. We’re really far away so like good luck finding us.

Nalitie: And by that we mean 20 clicks through the layers of Reality, not in any, like, cardinal direction. Ya know, like… clicks according to the Interdimensional Standard Measurements, so like 20 timelines away from you I guess. Actually a pretty short distance, all things considered. Must be because we’ve got lots of planets too.

Satine: *muttering something to her guards in another language that you don’t recognize*

Dukermin: Anyway uhh lets go to Termata so you can see our subjects and go shopping!

Nalitie: Oh we could go to Mackinac. Or Bean Co., I guess. IDK let’s just land I’m starting to feel small and insignificant sitting out here in the vast emptiness of space.

Dukermin: *Lands near Bean Co.*

(As the bubble pops, Nalitie gestures towards the Spectre Opera House.)

Nalitie: This is the opera house where my housemate Christine works, and under here is a super cool cult we want to introduce you to!

Dukermin: *heads in and points out cool things in the Opera house as they head to the closet*

(On the main stage, Christine is engaged in a rehearsal for the upcoming Starlight Symphony. Their director calls out some sort of a direction, and everyone shifts around on stage. The lights dim, and faux stars light up around the audience seating. Nalitie cheers, and everyone rehearsing turns to look at them.)

Dukermin: *randomly cheers too so it’s less awkward but it’s kinda more awkward*

Satine + co.: *confused by what’s happening*

Nalitie: Uhhhh anyway *scoots off to the bean closet and starts clearing cans out to get to the door*

Dukermin: *helps* *offers a bean can to Satine*

Nalitie: Oh wait, let me try something *grabs a handful of the IPA tokens Bruce gave her last Christmas* *spells out the word “open” phonetically on top of the can, then smashes them*

(The lid of the can, along with the IPA token fragments dissolve into nothing. Inside the can are room-temperature baked beans with bacon bits.)

Dukermin: Try this, it’s a Termata delicacy! *has no utensils or anything*

Nalitie: *digging around in the closet for spoons* Uhh yeah you might have to just use your hands. Watch out for the sharp edges on the can.

Dukermin: Just drink it.

Satine: *still quite suspicious of them, but doesn’t want to be rude* *takes a small sip of the beans, then offers the can to her guards* That, ah, method you used to open these was quite interesting. *has definitely had beans before, but not baked ones with bacon bits*

Dukermin: Oh yeah. Those tokens were a gift from someone we helped out recently. We are reliable and trustworthy.

Nalitie: *to Dukermin* oh yeah, that’s right—remind me to grab some candy from home; William and I wanted thank Bruce, I’ve just been forgetting.

Dukermin: *visibly gags after hearing William again* *takes 1 psychic damage* Yeah i’ll try to remind you.

Nalitie: *leads the way into the bean closet*

(You go through the door into Bean Co., and are greeted by a hallway that looks like it belongs to every chain hotel ever. At the end of it, a receptionist sits at a desk. She smiles at you vacantly, seeming to not remember Dukermin from before.)

Dukermin: We’re here for the bean cult.

Receptionist: Hello, and welcome to Bean Co.! The annual bean convention will be happening in May. Until then, Bean Co.’s operations are private, and only Bean Co. employees or Legumes Ltd. Platinum members can enter the premises! I’m so sorry for any inconvenience. Have a nice day!

Dukermin: Oh that’s right. Run! *takes off into the expo hall*

Nalitie: *grabs Satine’s hand and sprints away*

Receptionist: Excuse me!!! *turns as if to go after them, but can’t leave her spot because what if someone else comes in and needs to be received?*

Dukermin: *runs into an assembly line area*

(The conference rooms and convention center that were here last time you were here are gone, replaced by a rather depressing-looking bean factory. Thousands of cans of beans travel slowly down conveyor belts, and employees who look like they’ve had the life sucked out of them place lids on all of the cans. In the distance, you can see three well-dressed fellows holding fancy glasses, laughing loudly and pointing at the assembly lines. Satine looks concerned.)

Dukermin: Oh this is concerning. I’m gonna fight those guys.

Nalitie: Uh. Did. Did you know about this? Like was this here last time? This is what Homeless Henry was looking for?

Dukermin: When I was here it was like fun and lively with cool bean themed items.

Nalitie: Uh huh…

(You hear sudden guffawing from the three guys in the back. The workers farthest from you sigh wearily as the men walk past them, pointing at the labels they’re sticking on the cans.)

Dukermin: *points at the three guys and starts guffawing as well* Look at those losers in their silly little suits and drinking from baby glasses for little babies why dont you do some work instead of walking around like silly little babies.

(The three men look at Dukermin, affronted. You hear them say something amongst themselves, and they storm over, travelling directly over the conveyor belts and knocking bean cans everywhere. The workers sigh and start mopping.)

Dukermin: *to Satine* I’m so sorry that you have to see this but I’m about to fight some exploitative capitalists.

Satine: Hmph. And you really think violence is the answer here? Are you not rulers in charge of the law in this place?

Dukermin: I never said there would be violence. *puts the men in a bubble*

Men: *look even more scandalized

Guy 1: *sounding like a man directly out of a movie from the 50s* Hey now, just what do you think you’re doing? I’ll have you know I’m a Legumes Ltd. Platinum member! So why don’t you just mind your own business, doll?

Dukermin: I’m no “doll”, I am a Legumes Ltd Palladium member. So I’m going to have to ask for your respect, or I’ll strip you of your membership.

Guy 1: *a little bewildered*

Guy 2: Hey, the top tier of Legumes Ltd. is the String Bean tier; I think the dame is bluffing.

Guy 3: *knocking on the bubble* When we get out of here… Well, if you weren’t a lady, you’d be getting my fist in your face!

Nalitie: Jeez, these Legumes Ltd. guys sure are… something.

Dukermin: *sends the bubble tumbling way up to the ceiling and shakes them around like a snowglobe* Pathetic platinum members like you wouldn’t know a palladium member when you saw her.

Guys: *a tumbled mess up in the bubble, very disoriented*

Satine: *only a little offended by how that was handled*

Nalitie: Hey, yeah, do you even know who you’re talking to??? Legumes Ltd. can only exist because of us! We put you here!!!

Dukermin: Literally.

Guy 1: *chuckles* Honey, Legumes Ltd. is bigger than you could ever know. We were here long before this opera house materialized, and we’ll be here long after. So why don’t you all run along back to your surface world and forget all about this factory, huh? You can go back to managing your little dimension, and Bean Co. will continue its operations in peace. Beans are the multiversal language, after all.

Dukermin: I think you guys need a little break from beans. Yeesh.

Nalitie: We could put them in a time out in the vent hole, maybe. Or on Riewa, but Riewa kinda sucks.

Dukermin: *contemplating Riewa, but decides against it* The vent hole will work while we get to the bottom of this *brings the bubble back down*

Nalitie: *takes out her lunchbox portal, setting the dial to the shortcut just in front of her house* We can do that now, and then maybe take a stop somewhere… uh less culty.

Dukermin: Yeah in hindsight this was probably a lot for a first stop. *sends the bubble through the lunchbox and invites everyone else through as well*

Nalitie: *to Satine and her guards* This is a Lunchbox Portal, and it’s one of the main ways we get around here in Erscoga. You just step into it and you get transported there. You can go first, if you’d like.

(Satine shares a look with her guards. One of the guards goes first to make sure it’s safe, but eventually everyone goes through.

The street outside Nalitie’s house is peaceful and bright. Lux shines bright in the sky. Nalitie’s couch blasts off through her roof, and Satine’s guards step in front of their Duchess protectively.)

Nalitie: Ooh, that was a good one. Don’t worry about that, that’s how I get to my space station. *digging in her pockets for her house keys*

Dukermin: It’s really fun, when it comes back yall should sit on it. Its kinda comfortable.

Nalitie: Plus, I’ve added a new feature to instantly begin the lift off process, so you don’t have to wait the full 15 minutes for the next launch! *checks the door, which is unlocked anyway* Oh, William or Steven must be home.

Dukermin: I’m gonna lose it.

Satine: *to Dukermin* Is there bad blood between you and this “William” person?

Dukermin: No not at all. His name is just wrong. Nevermind that.

Satine: Hm.

(You all enter Nalitie’s house. Nalitie’s husband, whose name has become a point of dissent, is in the kitchen with Lisa and Leonarda. Bee is running around in the living room with some toys. They see you and freeze.)

Dukermin: *points to Willy* You! Introduce yourself! *points to Nalitie* You! Say nothing!!

“William”: Oh! *goes over to their group; shakes Satine’s hand awkwardly, like he doesn’t know how to do it* I’m Nalitie’s husband, and their *gestures to Lisa and Leonarda* um… fa… pare… adult.

Dukermin: *gets in his face* what is your nammmme?

“William”: You can call me Willy. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of my candy brand?

Dukermin: AHAHAHAHAHAHA CHECKMATE

Nalitie: ? I mean yeah, Willy is his like nickname. Like “Joe” instead of “Joseph.” You knew that.

Satine: *confused about what’s happening* Duchess Satine, of Mandalore. A pleasure to meet you. *under breath* I think.

Dukermin: *still in Willy’s face* hmmmmmmm *backs off… for now*

Bee: *tugging on Satine’s dress* *points at her headdress, then gives a little thumbs up*

Dukermin: Where is Steven? Christine was at the opera house. There are a lot of people and … non people that live here.

“Willy”: Steven finally got a break from work and is out with ET, cause he has that like… baby group class or whatever. I think Dave is here.

Bee: *pokes Dukermin, then points at the three men in the bubble questioningly*

Dukermin: Hey Bee watch this *shakes the bubble again but just a little*

Men: *yell a little as the bubble shakes around them and they lose their footing*

Dave: *comes out of the VR room* Jeez, what’s with all the ruckus?

Dukermin: We have a delivery for the vent hole, as well as some esteemed guests that were trying and failing to leave a good impression on.

Dave: Ugh, I hate that you guys store criminals in our basement. You know how unsafe that is? What if they get out like Kaytee and Kathrine did?

Dukermin: Maybe I’ll just leave them in the bubble… no thats unethical *to Bee* leaving people in confined spaces is not good. *pats him on the head*

Nalitie: And I’ve revamped my security since then! The vent hole is fully operational. *also to Bee* The vent hole is a really safe place to put people, because they won’t be able to get out and hurt us, but they have stuff like a toilet or whatever so they’re comfortable.

Dave: Uh… Could you not teach the kid about imprisoning criminals in the basement? They’ve already been reenacting your war with their dolls, we really don’t need them going down there too.

Dukermin: *to Bee* Reenacting wars with your dolls is not good. Violence is never the answer *winks at Satine*

Satine: *has the distinct feeling that Dukermin is poking fun at her* *changing the subject* Did you say your prison was in the basement of this house? You don’t have a dedicated facility?

Dukermin: Honestly, crime is not really a big deal around here .. like I mean people are fairly respectful. Many of them have come from rough places and we’ve worked with many of them personally, so. I mean these guys werent even really committing a crime they were just being jerkfaces to people just trying to do their jobs, so thats whats considered a major offense around here I guess…

Nalitie: Yeah, our only like long-term prisoner really is an evil soulless flower who tried to kill us and take over Erscoga, but he’s on his very own planet far from here and he can’t really get off of it because… he’s a flower. Oh, and I think there’s an evil version of our friend Mettaton somewhere, but he was in cahoots with the flower, so.

Dukermin: Yeah. So we’ve got a good handle on things, we’ve just been pretty lucky to have good citizens. For the most part.

Nalitie: Uh anyway, those guys are starting to bum me out, so uh to the vent hole! *to the vent hole!*

(The vent hole is a clean-looking hallway lined with holding cells, leading down to a conference room. The bunker is somewhere around here. Oh, and it’s also very clearly modelled after the Mandalorian prison in Sundari. Satine is a little perturbed.)

Dukermin: *toting the guys behind the group in the bubble*

Nalitie: *types a code into one of the panels by the door of a cell*

(The door opens. The inside of the cell is actually not too bad. It’s got kind of a large, padded bench, and a small bathroom cabinet.)

Dukermin: *puts them all into one* You’re just gonna hang out in here until we figure out what to do about your bad attitudes.

Nalitie: I’ve found that food can help tame a stressful situation. *throws a handful of oranges and grapefruits in there from out of her pockets, plus one single brownie*

Dukermin: *To Satine Kryze* See, even our prisoners get meal fit for kings!

Nalitie: Oh, I guess I was thinking that was more of a snack. But yeah that would be inhumane of us to not like feed them I guess. Uh… SPEAking of food maybe we could stop by Bensel and show you the farms?

Dukermin: That would make a lot more sense than whatever we’ve been doing.

Nalitie: Cool. Lemme just grab some more fruit from upstairs in case we get hungry, and make sure William is good with staying with the kids for the rest of the day. *closes the cell door and starts to leave*

Dukermin: *mockingly* WiLlIaM *follows out*

Satine: *still does not understand the whole William thing* *follows them upstairs*

(Upstairs, Nalitie’s husband is sitting on the couch with the three kids, reading a storybook. Dave is in the kitchen, making peanut butter-banana sandwich. Bee’s face lights up as the lady with the cool headdress comes back upstairs.)

Nalitie: *heading into the kitchen to restock the fruit*

Satine: *unsure what to do; goes to see what the story being told is*

“Willy”: … and so the Thing disguised itself as a bush, and slowly made its way towards the gates. The Guards had never seen a moving bush before, but surely bushes could move if they wanted to! They were alive, after all.

Dukermin: Bye crew! *sets up a lunchbox*

Nalitie: We’ll be back later, but call if you guys need anything? William, are you good with all three kids or do you want me to take Lisanarda?

“William”: *confused look around* Were… were you asking me?

Dukermin: *points at both of them*

Nalitie: Yeah, do you want me to take the kids? We’re just going to Bensel, it’ll be–

(The couch blasts off into space. Everyone in the living room jumps. Several minutes later, it slowly lowers back down into the living room.)

Nalitie: We’re just going to Bensel, it’ll be safe.

“William”: Dave is here, we’ll be OK. Um… what did you call me earlier?

Dukermin: *is just still pointing*

Nalitie: Oh, you know. Your name! Must’ve been the um. Interference from the couch startup sequence, you know how that gets loud. Willy.

Dukermin: *pointing intensifies*

“Willy”: … alright… *a little concerned that she’s lost it, but that’s also not abnormal for them*

Dukermin: We’re gonna circle back to this later. We’re still in the middle of a tour. *sets the lunchbox to bensel*

Nalitie: It’s OK, Car… Christine will help sort things out later, you trust her I think. *scoots through the lunchbox quickly to avoid more questions*

Dukermin: *squinting still pointing at willy wonka, backs into the lunchbox*

Satine: *to Willy* You have a lovely home…

Bee: *waving goodbye vigorously*

Satine: *smiles and gives a little wave before going through the lunchbox with her guards*

“Willy”: *muttering under breath* William???

(And so your rag-tag group ends up on Bensel. It’s the late evening there, and you can see Old McDonald turning on his perimeter lights. He stares out into the corn in your general direction, slowly retreating into his house.)

Dukermin: *waves to try and catch his attention*

(His door closes.)

Dukermin: Well I guess it’s bedtime for Old Mcdonald, but surely he won’t mind if we take a walk around his farm.

Nalitie: Yeah… *equipping nanofiber yarn armor just in case*

(Satine is confused, because it looks like Nalitie is just putting on a sweater.)

Dukermin: *starts leading the group around* So if you look to your right, you’ll see some corn, and if you look to your left just ahead, there’s some more corn.

(Nalitie walks alongside the group, careful to stay outside of the perimeter lights.)

Satine: *has only really vaguely heard of corn, unsure about its nutritional value* Is corn your primary crop, then?

Dukermin: Corn is a big one, yes, just because its a staple where we and many of our citizens are from. However, we also have wheat, lots of herbs over at 7even’s farm, Farmer Joe has soybeans. We’ve got a big variety. Sure theres probably a lot of stuff I haven’t even heard of that grows here.

Nalitie: I’ve been trying to grow vegetables in the backyard! I’m not home enough though lately so it has been going poorly.

Satine: If we were to strike a trade deal, then, would we be receiving mainly vegetable products? *unsure whether Erscoga produces meat, since it hasn’t been brought up*

Dukermin: Well, vegetables for sure, grains for sure, we have fish in shellmound, as for other meats if anyone was producing that it would be Old Mcdonald, so we can see if production is moving on that… we also could export baked goods. as for fruit, we have… uh… a peach tree. Maybe don't rely too much on fruit from us.

Nalitie: I’m sure there’s someone producing beef here; Landfood sells a lot of hamburgers. Like, the restaurant is literally cow-shaped.

Satine: *does not know what a cow is* I see. And you are willing to share all of those things… in exchange for one universal translator? *suspicious about ulterior motives*

Dukermin: Yeah we’re altruistic or whatever i guess.

Nalitie: Also, like, it gets boring here when things are going well. I mean. I guess things aren’t “well” right now with the whole “refugee crisis,” but interdimensional allies are always good, especially when we’re up against … I should stop talking. *disappears into the corn*

Dukermin: Anyway, lets check on old mcdonalds meat orchard, see what’s ripe.

Satine: I’m sorry, did you say something about a refugee crisis?

Dukermin: Meat orchard this-a-way! *herding everyone away*

(The meat orchard is a vast expanse of meat trees of all varieties. Some are growing hams instead of branches. A few have steaks for leaves. There’s at least one that looks like it has chicken wings growing as fruit from egg flowers. Some look like normal trees, but with gouges cut out of them revealing fresh salami.)

Nalitie: Ah, yes, the meat orchard. It looks like things are pretty in season.

Dukermin: Wonder how sap collection has been going, we could make a charcuterie board if he’s managed to press some cheeses.

Nalitie: Oh, yeah… That would be from one of those trees, right? *points at one of the steak trees* *forgets the boundary and crosses over there*

(Suddenly, you hear an alarm go off! The lights in Old McDonald’s house turn on, and you can see him burst out of the front door in the distance.)

Dukermin: Hide! *dives into a bush*

Nalitie: *drags Satine + co. into the corn on the border of the meat orchard*

(You hear a shot go off in the distance.)

Old McDonald: You hooligans better get offa my land!

Dukermin: *puts hand up from inside the bush* We’re going, we’re going! Yeesh!

(Nalitie leads Satine + co. through a shortcut she cut out of Old McDonald’s corn the last time they were caught on his land, over to 7even’s house.)

Dukermin: As you can see, our farmers take their crop very seriously.

Satine: Are your citizens always so hostile? *brushing dirt off*

Dukermin: Old Mcdonald is a little rough around the edges but he’s got good meat trees, so we let him be.

Nalitie: He at least uses that food he produces to feed Erscoga. I’m sure he’ll be happy to sell to you, since he still sells to us and we trespass on his land all the time. Keeps you on your toes. *pulling BBs out of her sweater*

Satine: *is once again concerned about dealing with them*

Dukermin: This here, though, is 7even’s farm, much more welcoming.

Nalitie: She mostly grows herbs and rare potion ingredients, though. I think she really only sells to like… Snape. And some of the pharmacies, I guess. Oh, and I really like her Thai basil.

Dukermin: Right. So if you’re interested in making your food taste really good or for it to like… cure boils or something, then we can hook you up here.

Nalitie: Either way, we have a lot of good stuff growing here! There’s definitely some smaller farms here and there, but again, most of our citizens don’t eat food, so it works out! We’ll definitely have enough for your planet as well as ours!

Satine: What exactly do you mean by they don’t eat food?

Nalitie: I mean… Like the species on three of our planets simply do not eat food. Or at least not the same food that you and I eat, it’s like… magic or something IDK. Actually, we could go visit Toriel and show you Monster Food? It’s kind of a fun treat, even if it has 0 nutritional value for humans.

Dukermin: Ooh yeah that could be fun!

Satine: “Monster Food”?

Nalitie: Don’t worry about it! *gets out the Lunchbox, sets it to Pluto* After you!

(And so they went to Pluto. It’s a lovely mid-morning Plutonian day, and unfortunately Pluto is once again in absolute shambles. The roof of the Best Western has damage, and people who had been staying on the top floor are camping out in magically-heated tents outside. Papyrus’s shed, which had recently been rebuilt, is missing a door. Undyne’s house is on fire.)

Dukermin: Oh my gosh what is it now??

Satine: Not to be rude, but does this planet… always look like this?

Dukermin: Lately… yeah.

Nalitie: We, uh. Had a civil war here not to long ago but they definitely rebuilt after that? Not sure what’s going on here… *yells into the distance* PAPYRUS WHERE ARE YOU?

(Papyrus comes running over. One of his gloves is torn, and there’s a weird smudge on his battle body, but otherwise he looks no worse for wear, and greets you with a wide smile.)

Papyrus: HELLO QUEENLY HUMANS!!! HAVE YOU COME TO RECONSTRUCT PLUTO AGAIN???

Dukermin: I guess so! What happened?

Papyrus: REMEMBER WHEn the strange queenly human with green magic came and you told me to keep the princely human Edward un-seduced???

Dukermin: Uhh yeah? How is that going?

Papyrus: WELL, I did, in fact, fail to keep the princely human unseduced by the lady human, and when the magic human came back she was very angry!!! I think the magic human might have been part monster, because she turned into a very large dragon and that is why Undyne’s house has been on fire for a week and for no other reason!!!

Dukermin: Sure… Well, that’s bad news.

Papyrus: Not to worry!!! When the monster-magic human began to attack Monster Town and tried to kill the lady human, the Royal Roy’l Guard jumped into action, like a very good Royal Roy’l Guard should!!! Oh, and also Undyne got mad that the monster-magic human er… started the fire in her house, she got very mad and attacked! And that is why there is a very large pile of dust in my shed!!! *points*

(If you look closely, Papyrus’s shed is filled with uncharacteristically sparkly dust, and a very large pile of it. It looks like it got swept up from around Monster Town, because the ground is still a little glittery.)

Dukermin: Okay, that solves one problem. Doesn’t help us get closer to why people keep showing up here, but y’know, this may be for the best.

Nalitie: Wait, I’m behind, did you kill Narissa??? Is that what the very large pile of dust is???

Satine: !!

Papyrus: ERRrrr… Perhaps you should ask Undyne!!! The Great Papyrus was still trying to un-seduce the princely human Edward when the magic human was turned into dust!!!

Dukermin: *putting crime tape up around the dust pile* Alright, shall we go question Undyne? I’ll be bad cop.

Nalitie: I guess, yeah. I feel like we’re making a bad impression on our guests.

Dukermin: I think that ship has sailed. *Heads over to undyne’s*

(You approach Undyne’s flaming house. Nothing lives there now except fire.)

Dukermin: *looking at the flaming house through a magnifying glass* Looks like the perp has skipped town.

Nalitie: *pointing towards Alphys’s lab* Isn’t that her scaling the wall to get into the door over there?

Dukermin: Case Closed! *bum bum* *goes to Undyne*

Nalitie: *follows* *yells up towards the door* UNDYNE can you come here for a minute???

Undyne: *peeks her head out the door* It’s about time you showed up!!!! *jumps out of the door, plummeting towards the ground with terrifying speed* NGAAAAH!!!

Dukermin: *instinctively tries to catch*

(Undyne slams into you with incredible force, sending you both toppling. Nalitie scoots out of the way. Satine’s guards stand in front of her protectively.)

Dukermin: *crawls out of the dukermin-shaped hole in the ground* We’ve got some questions for you, Undyne.

Undyne: *jumping to her feet* What’s up?

Dukermin: Tell us everything you know about the pile of glittery dust in the shed. Everything you say can adn will be used against you in a court of law.

Undyne: Oh, that??? That crazy lady from Christmas came back, and started tearing up the town, and you guys weren’t even there!!! We weren’t gonna let her destroy Monster Town!!!

Dukermin: We need to get you guys like a cell phone or something.

Undyne: ??? Papyrus tried to call, but he said it didn’t even ring!!! He’s been trying to contact Candle Grandma for days!

Dukermin: *checks candle grandma’s phone* *it has been dead for who knows how long and also the sim card is removed* I don’t think Candle Grandma really knows how these things work. Maybe just call me in the future.

Undyne: We tried to call you guys!!!

Dukermin: *checks her phone* *the screen is crushed and it has also been dead for who knows how long* Ok yeah that's my bad.

Nalitie: *checking all of her recent calls* I never got a call from you??? Actually, come to think about it, I haven’t gotten any calls recently… *thinking about the time Christine said she’d tried to call to ask something* Huh. Anyway, did you guys kill that lady??? That’s, like. She’s not from this dimension, that could have been really bad!!!

Undyne: It was either that or she was gonna dust all of us and kill that girl you put in the Best Western under Papyrus’s care *shrugs*

Dukermin: Aha so you admit it! Meh I don’t really care actually.

Satine: ???

Nalitie: I guess… Uh maybe we should let GCL know to monitor that dimension for Apynteu or ID-PD activity, I guess… Not that any of their main characters were there anymore anyway.

Dukermin: Yeah probably. Anyway don’t do that again maybe.

Undyne: *shrugs* Be here next time!!!

Dukermin: *shrugs*

Satine: *looking back and forth between them* Is that really all you’re going to say on this matter?

Dukermin: Yeah, Undyne and Papyrus are pretty mch what we have for law enforcement. Which kinda says something about society I think. Anyway, Narissa was super evil and commiting crimes against humanity so I’m gonna trust their judgement on this one

Nalitie: *changing the subject* ANYWAY we weren’t here for murder, we were here for Toriel’s pie!!! *running off to Toriel’s house*

Dukermin: *also does that*

Satine + co.: *following warily*

(You all end up at Toriel’s house. She is inside, once again futilely trying to figure out what is rotting in her kitchen. It’s the invisible loaf of bread you left here and she is never going to find it.)

Dukermin: HI Toriel! Meet Satine Kryze and her entourage.

Nalitie: She’s a duchess of a planet we are trying to impress! It’s not going well, so we were hoping to smooth things over with a slice of your pie.

Toriel: Oh! Hello, my children—and a pleasure to meet you, duchess. *shakes her hand, putting on the manners of the queen she used to be* I do have a pie in the oven right now! That human child you brought to this planet seems to like it very much.

Dukermin: Awesome!

(Toriel serves everyone a slice of butterscotch-cinnamon pie. It’s the calmest that this day has been so far.)

Nalitie: So, uh. This is monster food, and it’s made entirely out of magic! So it tastes good, but doesn’t really have any substance to it. It can help heal you, though, if you’re injured and your HP is low!

Satine: HP?

Nalitie: Don’t worry about that. *continues eating pie* The point is it’s good for your SOUL!

Dukermin: *chowing down*

Nalitie: Um… So what are you thinking about our trade deal? Like… we could export enough from Bensel’s major farms to feed your planet, and we can throw in a few like… exotic delicacies like monster food as a bonus! And then just, like, we want your translation knowledge.

Dukermin: And your allyship. We don’t require much.

Nalitie: Pretty much. And as far as allyship goes, like, as you can see Erscoga is a very peaceful place (ignoring the recent fires, Legumes Ltd. jerks, and Old McDonald) so it would just be saying we’re friends or whatever!

Satine: I… have a few concerns. *thinking about the recent fires, Legumes Ltd. jerks, and Old McDonald*

Dukermin: What are you concerned about, nothing concerning here!

Satine: Your… “empire,” as you called it earlier, is incredibly disorganized. As rulers, you don’t seem aware of the nefarious schemes happening in your star system. You let vigilante justice take care of the problems on this planet for you. You mentioned a refugee crisis earlier, and your meat grows on trees.

Dukermin: Thats… okay that’s all not completely untrue… However, with all due respect, how does that impact a trade deal regarding food?

Nalitie: Also, the meat trees are really cool. Cruelty free meat or whatever.

Satine: I’m mostly concerned about the stability of your society. In this scenario, Mandalore would be depending on you completely for food, and it seems to me that you’ve been in a crisis of your own.

Dukermin: Our crisis is like… a silly fun crisis tho. It’s what happens when you’re in an extradimensional location where people from many different realities can coexist. We have been a necessary refuge for people, and have provided a home to some who otherwise would have none. And we’ve been doing this for 8 years, solving crisis after crisis, and we’ll continue to do that as long as we’re needed.

Nalitie: Plus—and this is hard to explain—nothing really happens around here without us knowing about it, even if it seems like it. Crises only happen because we let them, and we let them just for *flavor.* The integrity of our world is never really in danger.

Dukermin: Otherwise, this place would be no fun at all.

Satine: *muttering under breath* 8 years? *out loud* I see. I suppose if you can guarantee the stability of this food source for us—and are willing to allow us an out should we ever need it—I would be willing to take the risk if it means that my people don’t have to rely on the black market for supplies.

Dukermin: We can guarantee that *extends hand*

Satine: Then I suppose we have a deal. *shakes it*

Nalitie: *is writing down the contract on a sock*

Dukermin: Alright! Lets iron out quantities and shipment dates!

(This montage of boring paperwork is brought to you by The Society of Beanatics. Satine and her guards return to Mandalore to share the news, with a cell phone for further interdimensional communication and plans to ship a universal translator to Erscoga.)

Dukermin: *sighs* What a productive afternoon. Wait wasn’t there something else we were supposed to be doing?

Nalitie: We were looking for a princess, but then we got distracted trying to translate a statue.

Dukermin: Hm. Guess the princess will have to wait for another doc.

Nalitie: Maybe after we have the translator to talk to anyone on Lux… I better get back to the kids and basement paperwork anyway.

Dukermin: Yeah I need to unkennel Shadow Dog before he chews a hole through the space-time continuum again.

(To be continued…)

~•*•~

(Previous)

(Next)

(Table of Contents)

[that-weird-deer-thing]

I don't dream a lot and nornally when i do there always feels like a layer of realism to it. None of the events are outlandlish and none of that sleep paralysis stuff. It just things that could occur in real life.

Thank whoever I don't remember parts of them when I wake up. During collage I lost count of how many times I dreamt of work assigments and tests I had to do, it would always take a minute or 2 to realiae that the deadline was made up. Some of them just felt like normal days at collage, mainly study hall and sometimes I would see people I had spoken to the days prior, even if I hadn't interacted with them in person.

There seems to be at least a few repeat scenarios in the ones I can recall. A popular one is that I'm running. I've ran around my local area, ran to avoid crowds, always from something. I don't think I've ever seen what I was running from in any of my dreams.

There are some exceptions but have the same feel. One, I was helping get a car set up to go somewhere, there were other people but I don't know who. I don't think it was my family, all I knew is that we needed to go asap.

It was dark and kinda in the middle of nowhere - possibly raining? It had that shine in the streetlights but I don't remember hearing or feeling it.

I remember ducking behind the front seats and just staying down there for the rest of the dream.

Another odd variant was where I was in a building (all the others had been outside for the most part). I was in a weird mix between a hostel, an Ikea and a University dorm. It didn't look like anywhere I knew of aside from colours. (maroons, vibrant oranges with light blue accents - the colours of the feature walls in my freshman dorms for some reason, everything else was new.)

I was walking around this building trying to find my room, eventually I went to a door that looks kinda like a fire safety door you see in hospitals ir offices - in fact the whole hallway I was in felt like something from a hospital, or at least a disabled bathroom. There was a window but I didn't see anything of note.

I thought to myself this wasn't my room and the door was locked, so I went back to the common area (the previously mentioned warm coloured room).

There were quite a few other students there, all blurred and out of focus, just doing their thing.

I remember talking to someone, I think they were supposed to my a friend of mine, they had the same hair, but I don't remember seeing their face. It was like they were speaking to me directly, but the pov was from over their shoulder.

Then, I saw a guy through some sheves or room dividers. He didn't exactly look threatening: older guy with white, thinning hair, overweight and wearing a shirt and shorts made form a thinner (maybe a light cotton?) pastel coloured material. He also had a big pair of scissors, not huge but noticeably bigger than anything you'd expect to buy in a craft store or something.

Everyone else in the room ran off, and I started to run though the maze of halls as well. I didn't feel scared or threatened by the man at all, I don't think he chased me either. I just saw him and thought I should run as well. I don't remember much after that.

Another random one I remember, I don't actually know what happened. I just woke up feeling disturbed, like I had experienced something that weighted heavy on my mind. It just felt like a bad omen - although nothing happend.

A recent one I actually thought was a memory at first, but was obviously not the second I put thought into it. I was sitting in my room and I just pulled out one of my teeth, nonchalantly. I remember looking at it thinking "oh shit that shouldn't do that" and just put it back. Problem solved?

You could probably psychoanalyse the shit out of me because of these and there probably is a meaning behind them. (especially with the reoccurring ideas). But I don 't really care to know, and even so it probably would just reaffirm things i know about myself.I can't be asked to look down that rabbit hole, I just felt right writing them down somewhere.

[tentacle-stylograph]

some Puss in Boots: The Last Wish spoiler points / things i didn't enjoy, mainly very surface level things, 'cause i'm so confused at myself. really, i'm trying to puzzle out why i don't enjoy the movie, even tho i'll quickly recommend it to others simply based on the overwhelming positive reaction people have toward it

(i'd adore if fans responded to this post. i want to like this movie. or i'd even adore it if people who weren't fond of it responded. i'd be interested in what didn't hit the mark for other people)

the "losing track of who you are / waiting your life out after giving up" trope is tired to me. i watched i think an official clip of that scene before seeing the movie, and it left an impression on me as "this is a clip from a TV show," not a movie. my stomach dropped when i realized, nope, that clip that made me grimace IS in this movie, and it's a whole big thing

maybe even something just as superficial as the "starry pupils" when people use the map got me to not like it???? unless it's for positive emotion or something, eye-shape-changing and pupil-changing also often get me to internally grimace (other examples i don't like usually have to do with cartoony hypnosis). but i can't imagine that'd be something that'd turn me away from the whole movie. i like plenty of content that has things that make me grimace

what was a spoiler thing i didn't want to mention in the last post? ...i think it was mainly the "Puss at the cat haven" thing, which i mentioned in the first point. but i just remembered the opening scene of the movie. the way the movie opened... i'd need to watch the movie again to say something more specific, but i had an "okay, and?" feeling from it. i didn't get any attachment to Puss and -- again, i need to watch the movie again -- maybe i didn't believe everyone's obsession with him? the opening just seriously didn't do it for me.

hm, maybe because it opened so high energy i had a feeling of "okay, where else can this movie go if it's STARTING like this?" or something along those lines. the opening bored me, somehow, which perplexed me even at the time because it SEEMED like it should be hitting all the things i tend to like: high energy, colorful, lots of action, and so on.

...hm. yep, i REALLY want to rewatch the movie now, because i had the thought, how accurately do the characters follow physics? i know it's a cartoon, but semi-accurate movements, speeds, and interactions often get me hyped real good. in the opening, Puss riding on the firework is most in my mind as an example of "why am i so bored??" and i'm expecting someone to say something like "it's an animation. it's a cartoon. why are you expecting such realism?" and my answer is: i'm too lazy to type the whole explanation, 'eeeeyyy. but a partial explanation is "it's only a working theory, but i maybe it's 'cause i like seeing characters and things in animation go whoosh-whoosh, ESPECIALLY in action scenes, and when the things that should be going whoosh-whoosh don't whoosh-whoosh fast enough, i get sad and disappointed."

mainly around Puss getting sent flying in the comedic circular wheel-like limbs-out pose multiple times, i couldn't tell how serious or funny something was supposed to be or how purposeful that pose was on Puss's end. like, did he END UP in that pose because of the force of being sent flying (i.e. it's intended to be funny), or was he in that pose on purpose to help himself land better? or something like that. but him getting sent flying like that perplexed me almost every time

i actually wanted to make this post because i just SO MUCH didn't care about Death, except for a few moments, like when he chased Puss out of the Cave of Lost Souls and a few moments in his last battle with Puss.

ANYWAY, connected to "i just so much didn't care about Death" and "i actually wanted to make this post because": tonight, a week+ after watching the movie and still pondering all my disinterest about the movie, i laughed and mainly i just wanted to ramble about this movie to record: i realized my impression of Death almost the whole movie was an incredulous, "who's this bitch?"

(bolded the above point only for myself because it was the WHOLE reason i did these rambles. i actually liked a lot of his final moments before he left Puss at the end of the last fight. but all his fights were still boring for me, with the exception of some brief moments)

it just... felt generic to me. (for the most part. the map changing for each person was awesome, lots of things with Goldie were handled real cool and i def teared up, and, after someone broke it down for me, i can really respect the anxiety attack scene. lots and lots of other neat things scattered throughout, too, but:) if i hadn't seen the hype beforehand, i would have wondered how the movie even got made / i would have figured it was a franchise-based cash grab

dah, and why not. i'll copy-paste some things about Death from the previous post i just made. this is just my master "The Last Wish bored me" post now.

watched a collection of clips of El Lobo [changed his name from Death to avoid spoilers] last night to see if i'd think he's any better than i did in the theater and, yeah, i just don't find him as cool as other people do. i was resting my chin in my head watching the clips. i don't find his action moments exciting

for when he first meets Puss in the bar, currently all i have to work with is "maybe i would have thought he's cooler if

"a) he didn't talk as much, or

"b) he didn't 'interact' with Puss as much?"

like, when Puss attacks him, he turns to face Puss. maybe it'd be cooler if he continued facing in the same direction as if he were that unbothered. and maybe if he didn't change his mood when he tells Puss "Pick it up," i'd like that moment more too (even tho i actually did like that moment more than the rest of the scene), like it'd be better if he continued seeming entertained instead of irritated. (for his character i can understand the latter, but i'm just rambling)

unrelated to Death, i was also confused about the Softpaws character development or whatever was going on there because she seemed to be portrayed as a can't-do-wrong character even tho she admitted to not even going to the church either. (there's more explanation, i know, but this is a long entry already) that definitely wasn't part of what stopped me from liking the movie, tho. i'm used to hypocrisy around female characters or of my not understanding things until i discuss them with others.

probably a big part was the movie getting overhyped too. i still haven't watched them, but YouTube recommended to me several videos with thumbnails along the lines of "THE LAST WISH: SO GOOD!" and "THE COOLEST BAD GUY" with a picture of Death.

i'm bummed 'cause i almost never let myself get hyped for things, especially stories (books, movies, shows, the works), but this one seemed like a sure shot, especially after i've gotten so taken in on fairly superficial aspects by Netflix's Scrooge. i was thinking, "hey, if i can enjoy a-maybe-middling film THAT much, i'll love this film." so i did let myself really look forward to seeing it. bummer

edit like an hour later: oh hECK. RIGHT. i went to YouTube and--anyway, ramble short, saw another video for The Last Wish, with the thumbnail/title combo of something along the lines of TLW being a great horror movie. i literally saw a horror movie RIGHT BEFORE watching TLW. and it was a pretty good one. so--UGH. yeah, i was looking forward to Death because of the videos that were recommended to me hyping him up, but UGH i was literally in a horror movie mindset. it would really be something if a kid's movie could stand up to those kinds of thrills. UUUUGH.

(but still baffled about my being bored by the Death clips i've watched tonight and last night. but almost definitely that timing of literally walking out of a horror movie in a movie theater to impromptu get tickets for The Last Wish didn't help)

[shepherds-of-haven]

What would be each character’s favorite classic book if they had to choose? As a bonus, what are your favorite classic books Lena?

This question came to me because I just finished Great Expectations and I am forever ruined🥲Looking for some recommendations!

Hi there, thank you for your interesting questions! I'll start with some of my favorite classics in the hopes that some of them might strike your fancy, and then move on to the characters!

Note: I should put a disclaimer that, as is the case for many classics, some of these examples are quite dark or may contain disturbing themes or content matter, so just letting you know that you may have to look up content warnings for some of these titles if you feel the need to! 

Also, the ones with an asterisk (*) are ones I think you might particularly enjoy if you liked Great Expectations!

Some of my favorite classics:

East of Eden by John Steinbeck - my absolute favorite "classic" novel and a brilliant masterpiece in my opinion! Can't emphasize strongly enough how great the prose, narrative themes, emotions, and characters are, and it's definitely Steinbeck's best novel!

Germinal by Emile Zola * - an incredible work and magnum opus by Zola, this details the harsh conditions of a coal miners' strike in Northern France and is similar in its gritty depiction of poverty to Great Expectations. Warning: it is uncompromisingly brutal and was praised at the time for its shocking realism, so be aware that it has quite a darkness to it!

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky * - I love Crime and Punishment as a pairing to East of Eden, and I also think it's the best of Dostoevsky's novels (a bone of contention between me and my partner, who insists it's actually The Brothers Karamazov) and an incredible character study; I think if you like the characters in Great Expectations, you might feel similarly while reading Crime and Punishment, though it also covers dark subject matter!

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley - both Dracula and Frankenstein are absolutely wonderful stories on their own, but also incredibly important lenses into the Victorian era and its culture and beliefs! Also, the beginnings of monster fiction! How could you say no to that?

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys - If you read Jane Eyre, you absolutely must read Wide Sargasso Sea, which is a postcolonial and feminist rebuttal to Jane Eyre told from the perspective of Mr. Rochester's "insane wife" in the attic!

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens * - Actually my favorite of Dickens' novels (even moreso than Great Expectations) and a must-read if you haven't already read it!

Greek classics - My favorites include The Oresteia, The Iliad (I particularly enjoy Caroline Alexander's translation), and The Aeneid.

Japanese classics - There are a few of these, but the one that's stuck the most with me was The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu. Although it provides a fascinating look at the court life of Japanese nobles at the time (and is thought to be the world's first true novel, or at least the world's earliest classic novel), it is notoriously wily when it comes to its descriptions, complex language and grammar, and difficulties with translations, so something to be aware of!

Shakespeare - My favorites include Hamlet, Othello, Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It, and Coriolanus.

Finally, let's move on to what classics would be the characters' favorites!

Blade: The Iliad, Romance of the Three Kingdoms, The Count of Monte Cristo

Trouble: The Three Musketeers, War of the Worlds, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Dracula

Tallys: Tess of the D'Ubervilles, The Scarlet Letter

Shery: Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women

Riel: Crime and Punishment, Divine Comedy, Paradise Lost

Chase: The Great Gatsby, Candide

Red: Gulliver's Travels, Through the Looking-Glass, The Island of Dr. Moreau

Ayla: Pygmalion, A Doll's House

Briony: Anne of Green Gables, The Once and Future King, Le Morte d'Arthur

Lavinet: Madame Bovary, Gone with the Wind

Halek: A Farewell to Arms, Ask the Dust, The Big Sleep

[danniburgh]

Evergreen Intrusion (Frankie Morales x f!reader)

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!reader

Summary: You never knew what happened or why it did; at nights, when you wrapped yourself around his body and he held you in place so you wouldn’t slip away from him, you talked about it, always coming to the same conclusion right before falling asleep. It was real.

Word count: +8.2k

Warnings: angst, hints of grief, smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), this is my attempt at magical realism, bear with me.

A/N: okay guys, this took me over 2 months to finish, i left it incomplete bc sex with frankie intimidated me but i sat today and said "youre gonna get done bitch" and it did, with major changes, but it did. anyway, thanks <3 and i wanna thank @mouthymandalorian​ because since the start i ranted everything to her and she read it in april and said “its good bitch” and wow, i love her so much i wanna cry

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // playlist // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by me // gifs: @pajamasecrets and @conveniently-available

Many years later, when Frankie thought of the smell of the thick fog making contact with the grass, petrichor, is called, he would recall the time he spent with you on that place, in that time, and he would remember the eerie aura that you had carried with you during your stay, you glowed. It wasn’t like the feeling the rain gave him when he heard it. It was something else, something he couldn’t name, even decades after it happened.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” you sighed out, looking around you and seeing nothing but thick high pine trees.

Your feet ached because of how long you two had been walking together; Frankie decided the previous day that as you both had your weekend off, maybe some hiking would do you good. He had found a location he liked three and a half hours away from the racket and hustle of the city; he had driven you both in and guided you both inside. The air inside the forest was chilly, the ambient was silent, and at the height you were currently in, a thin layer of fog was roaming and settling right above your heads.

The view was breathtaking, though. The trees made a shelter high above your bodies, the leaves and tweaks and small bushes under your feet were soft, almost mushy, the moss around the tree trunks adorned them in different, formless patterns that you could make out if you were close enough to them, and if you touched them, they whispered the secrets of their host.

It was a weird time in your relationship with Frankie, he had just finished his therapy sessions and he had just recovered his pilot’s license, but he could still get lost into himself at times, he could still sit silent in a room full of people, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He had changed, the Frankie you knew and loved had changed since Santiago had practically dragged him to Colombia for a job. And when they came back, Santiago sent to you pieces of a man, poorly glued together.

Helping Frankie re-build himself was a challenge in itself, first you had to help him find himself among the mess that he was when he came back home. And slowly you had to help cleanse himself from the metaphorical dirt he had carried with him, dirt that was so embedded into his skin; under his nails, behind his ears, entangled in his hair, between his fingers, under his feet, that you had found yourself taking off time from work, and basically life to help him scrub it all off.

All to aid him become himself again. Not lost time. Completely worth it. Because when you had finished helping him, he had looked at you, deep in the eyes, and he had thanked you in the best way he knew how.

But he could still get lost into himself at times.

“No, we are not lost, babe,” Frankie’s voice was low, he was trying to get the map on his hand in some other direction to locate himself.

“Frankie, we are lost,” your hand dropped to his shoulder and he raised his eyes to you, his gaze glistening with the soft light that shone through the pine branches that hovered feet above you, making them look like fine pieces of dried amber, almost hypnotizing.

“Okay yeah, I have no idea where we are,” he sounded resigned to admit it, his shoulders dropped as his head moved so he could take your surroundings in, taking his cap off, brushing his curls back and putting it back on. His eyes for a second got fixated on something far away and you tried to follow the direction his gaze was going, finding nothing but trees, dirt and bushes. His head turned slowly back to you and he left out a sigh when he saw you smile at him.

“What?” Frankie muttered, you bit your lip as you saw his preoccupied quirk, his eyes were trying to find some reassurance in yours, as if he thought you had an answer to a question he had yet to ask.

“We can always walk back from where we came, don’t we?” you suggested, shrugging lightly, trying to get Frankie to loosen up a bit. If he started to freak out, then you knew everything had gone to shit. And you didn’t want that.

Frankie looked at you and he looked behind you at the path you had come from, considering the suggestion.

“I mean, yeah,” his eyes fixated again on something or somewhere and then his brow furrowed, you followed his eyes and yet again, you found nothing but trees, “I jus–what the fuck?” you widened your eyes.

“Frankie?” your voice was as thin and disperse as the fog above you and it seemingly didn’t reach Frankie’s ears, because you had to find your air and put it all in your diaphragm to almost shout at him “Frankie!”

He looked around him slowly, his brown eyes were roaming around trying to locate something, anything and his worried stance and his shocked face made your stomach churn in something closer to fear than expectation.

“I can’t find the way we came from,” he whispered, and you saw the fog slowly turn into a transparent arm and reach to his mouth, eating his voiced words. Delightful, the fog said.

“Don’t play with me,” you pleaded, shivering as you felt as well the fog’s arm feel out the confines of your mouth, tasting your words, not liking them and spitting them on the floor.

Frankie looked at you, his eyes telling you he wasn’t lying, his brows were almost touching each other and his mouth was open in bewilderment, he shook his head slowly a few times and you felt your legs flutter and a heavy weight fall onto your shoulders.

“Look for it,” you mouthed, Frankie saw you breathing heavily and he rushed to you, he dropped his backpack to the floor. His hands on your body felt electrifying. His touch was heavy with preoccupation, his face was quirked in confusion as he guided your breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

Once the air entered your lungs and exited them as food for the trees around you he tried again to look for the narrowed path you two had walked into the forest.

“C’mon, I think is this way,” he pointed in a random direction and you whined. The fog’s arm rejected it as well, and it fell in front of your feet; you looked at it and found out why the fog didn’t like it, it was stale, incorporeal, bland.

“Are you sure?” your question felt like a prayer and a plea and a beg. Frankie nodded. He wasn’t but he nodded.

Frankie took your hand and turned around to put on his backpack. But the backpack was gone and the ground where it was thrown onto before was ruffling about it.

“Fuck,” he swore and brushed a hand on his forehead to wipe the thin layer of fog that was clinging to his skin, mimicking sweat. “let’s go,” you nodded and gripped his hand as hard as you could, your other hand gripped the shoulder strap of your own backpack and for a second you glanced at the space on the ground that had eaten Frankie’s and it growled softly.

You and Frankie walked for what it felt like hours upon hours upon hours. And you got nowhere. 

At that point the forest looked like a carbon copy of itself, the moss was showing the same secrets and you started to be sad, and angry, and scared, and Frankie noticed and the forest noticed.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Frankie muttered to you, you felt an ever so known and unwelcomed sting in your throat, “I’m so sorry,” his arms found you and he held you close to his chest, he kept muttering apologies. For getting you two lost, for choosing that place, for wanting to hike, for not giving you the time you needed, for making you lose a piece of yourself in the works of putting him together. He was sorry. And you felt it. And the forest felt it too.

You cried, as everything felt like you weren’t going home anytime soon.

And Frankie held you, because he was the only piece of home you had left, and you were the only piece of home he had left.

Your tears escaped your eyes and the fog’s arm feasted on them, and you let it. It was the only delicious thing you could offer to it, anyway.

You didn’t know for how long he had been embracing you and letting you damp his shirt with the tears that the fog’s arm didn’t choose to eat when you heard it.

But you didn’t hear it, you felt it entering your head, roaming around your ears and getting itself settled in your mind. 

A whisper from the forest. It sounded like a tree’s secret, but sadder, needier, stronger, bigger, heavier, darker and lighter.

“I wanna go home,” you whispered out, to him. To Frankie.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he broke the embrace and his hands slid to cup your face, he brought you to him slowly and took your lips in his. 

He kissed you with gentle desperation. His mouth moved at the rhythm of an unheard, newly made up song, chordless, lyricless, soundless; his grasp on your head felt like the silk of the sheets you never lied on, the sound of his tongue sliding into your mouth was lewd and warm and happy and there. You grasped his wrists and held onto him as if he were your home. Not letting you go. Not letting him go. No one was going anywhere.

You kissed for what it felt like hours upon hours upon hours and when he stopped kissing you; you chased his mouth and kissed him again and the songless song began again, and the never owned softness stayed in there, and the ever so present warmness became warmer.

When the air of your lungs faded into the leaves and the pinecones screamed at you and the moss stopped whispering their host’s secrets at the surprise of you kissing for so long, you stopped.

And Frankie’s big, warm, brown eyes felt ever more present, as if they had been there for years and years.

He smiled at you. And you were sure the thin fog that invaded the space faded away because of it.

“You wanna try again?” he asked softly, and you nodded, replying to his smile with one of yours.

So Frankie grabbed your hand again, and you two started walking in whatever direction you two felt like walking.

Soon enough you would be home.

“Oh” Frankie let out, tightening the grip on your hand, you looked at him with anticipation and question in your eyes. His gaze seemed to be fixated on something and you, yet again, followed his eyes, not really expecting to find anything. But you were surprised at what your gaze encountered.

“Wow,” you sighed out. You felt Frankie's eyes on your face and you turned to see him. His eyes bewildered, his smile giddy, contagious, child-like. His. It was him.

“Shall we?” he asked. You nodded enthusiastically, giving him the brightest smile he thought he had ever seen in all his years on the earthly plane.

You had found a house.

A small, old-looking house.

The outside was battered, the pass of the life’s years had darkened its wooden walls, made them look like wrinkles in an old person’s face, the small, squared windows on the front were foggy and covered with white, fine dust and an even thinner layer of mist, it had a small rot-wooden deck, moss and mold and a bright green vine covered the steps. From the spot you were standing at, you could see the way the climbing plants and the secret teller moss adorned the single slope roof. 

Tiny droplets of water that had grasped and clung tenaciously onto the roof edge from the fog that had faded into the sky were succumbing to the gravity and fell onto the floor, sounding like some form of a song you were sure you knew but never heard.

As you two walked hand in hand, you noticed the open door. The house felt old; it felt weak; it felt blight, yet so warm, so bright, so inviting, so welcoming.

So you entered.

Frankie let out a soft gasp at the sight.

The inside was even more tainted.

The walls were partially covered with the remains of a rotten, tattered, poorly kept wallpaper, the color had faded and the only noticeable feature of it was the flower print that seemed to adorn it after years and years of exposure to everything around you.

The wooden floors looked long-lived; some of the wood tiles were cracking, some of them looked sturdy, some others were rotten and there were a few places around where there were no tiles and it was just wet, dark dirt.

You looked at Frankie with a smile adorning your face and he was looking at the ceiling; you looked up as well and saw the wooden beams above you, angled and darkened, some weathered and damp, some robust and dry. They looked relaxed, yet hefty. Soft yet firm. Some of the climbing plants you had seen creeping on the roof had crawled and slithered and found themselves at home in the beams.

It was beautiful.

“C’mon,” you tugged at Frankie's hand and pulled him further inside. He followed close. The first room, the biggest, had on one side a worn out, misted loveseat in the middle of the space and a stone fireplace that the time and the weather and the forest and the fog had taken care of turning green. On the other side there was a small table, topped with fallen leaves from the climbing plants, a wood stove right below a window and a legged stained sink with a copper faucet.

You bit your lip and narrowed your eyes, thinking.

“What?” Frankie asked when he saw your face, you smiled and walked towards the sink, with him following you, with your free hand you reached the faucet handle and twisted it. The pipes started moaning in protest after being awakened so rudely and without notice and then, clear water started pouring from it.

Frankie barked out a laugh. And you smiled at him, your eyes bright and shiny as if the moon was stationed inside them.

You got rid of your backpack and left it on the floor while Frankie washed his hands and cupped them to gather water and drink it, after he finished he left them under the faucet and nodded his chin to them. You leaned down and drank from his hands. The water tasted sweet; it tasted like rain; it tasted like a summer night breeze, and the early days of winter before a snowstorm. It tasted like home.

Frankie’s skin was warm at the touch, despite the outside's brisk temperature. When you finished drinking, your throat happy and satiated, you smiled at him as he twisted the handle to stop the stream of water. You wiped your mouth dry with the sleeve of your shirt and your eyes meandered around the space, taking in the colors of the wood, the small crevices of the teared wallpaper, the way the window adorned herself with tiny specks of dust that formed a thin yet thick white cover all over the glass, and the way Frankie seemed to fit like a puzzle piece in the middle of the room. As if he was part of it. As if he was meant to stand in the middle of the rotten wooden floor, among the fallen leaves of the climbing plants that never seemed to die.

“You’re really pretty,” Frankie muttered, his brown yet amber eyes glistened with the anticipation of what was about to come but you didn’t know yet. The great something-about-to-happen. You smiled at him and his chest fluttered, swollen with the extensive, deep love he had for you.

“Let’s go see the rest,” you suggested, Frankie nodded as he saw your voice eagerly come out of your lips in crescent waves of light, and smiled back at you when you took his hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours, sending his spine a few shocks of loving electricity.

You walked to the center of the big room that functioned as both an impressively functioning kitchen and a rotten living room and at the end, on the wall, there were two doors, both medium tall, dark, mahogany doors, one of them closed, the other halfway open.

Frankie followed you as you tugged gently at his hand, you walked first to the one closed and the doorknob felt like room temperature butter when you twisted it open, it was a plain and simple bathroom, the three essentials, a misty, foggy, dusty mirror on the wall and a misty, foggy, dusty window in front of you, you smiled to yourself when you saw the way the climbing plant was creeping its way inside the room from a little crack on the upper left corner of the window.

Walking back you stepped towards the halfway open door and you pushed it open with two fingers. The hinges howled softly as the door moved to the side and let you enter through it. You scoffed as you saw a double, tubular bed in the middle of the room, the green bedding seemed plush and cozy, it looked like a giant sheet of that secret telling moss that gave you the warm welcome when you were walking towards the house.

Directly next to the bed there was a bigger window, still covered and hidden by the dust and the fog and the white mist that apparently covered every single glass surface around the house, as if it was its job, but it still let the light come through to the room, illuminating it with the smiles of the little sunlight that the trees allowed to enter their space.

In front of the bed there was a dusty mirror, the frame of it was bigger than the glass but fitting, and it reflected the tiny, thin, imperceptible sun rays that the window happily let through.

The room felt colder than the bigger space outside and you didn’t like it.

“Let’s take that outside, it feels like a freezer here,” Frankie said and you nodded. Both of you walked and each one grabbed an edge of the bedding. You looked at Frankie with your eyebrows raised and asked without asking if he was feeling the same thing around your hands.

The sheet felt like velvet and moss and the single petal of a rose that fell on a table when you put its owner on a small vase, it felt soft as the whispers of love you would give Frankie when he slipped inside of you, soft as the whispers of the forest you had heard earlier, but happier, relaxed, lovelier.

Frankie then looked through the window and he narrowed his eyes a bit.

“I think the sun is about to set, baby,” he mumbled, you agreed with him without looking at the window “come on, we have to rest.”

You two walked outside the room with the thick sheet on your hands and let it fall carelessly on the floor of the rotten living room, between the tattered loveseat and the green stone fireplace.

You felt Frankie’s hand leave yours and find its place on your waist, soothing you even when you didn’t need to be soothed. Caressing you, knowing you always wanted to be caressed.

You turned your head to see him and he reached in to grab your lips in his, his mouth tasted sweet and earthy, his lips told you what he was thinking without saying it and you turned around so your bodies could talk to each other.

“I love you,” he inserted in your mouth the words without having to break the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the curls that escaped eagerly from his cap and your skin felt like it was melting and mixing with his, your scents got to know each other again and for a brief, brief moment, it felt like you were floating several inches from the floor.

A soft crack above you interrupted your kiss and you and Frankie turned your heads up to follow the sound, one of the ceiling beams was moving, slowly. Frankie moved you gently, pushing your waist and you stood there, watching how the middle of it cracked itself open from two different points. The soft noises the wood made as it opened itself sounded like an egg hatching, you narrowed your eyes when the cracking stopped and then, a single, almost perfectly squared piece of the ceiling beam fell to the floor, landing next to your feet with a soft thud.

Frankie let go of your waist and leaned down to pick the piece of wood up with curious eyes.

“Oh, shit,” he whispered to himself and to you.

“What?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes in amusement at his soft expression and his small smile.

Frankie then reached inside the beam and slowly pulled out a thin, small purple flower.

“Oh,” you gasped, covering your mouth with one hand, Frankie, ever so delicately finished taking out the flower from the wood with everything and roots and admired it closer, smiled to himself and then gave it to you.

“Una flor para otra flor,” (a flower for another) he whispered and you both chuckled, taking the small flower from his fingers.

“So fucking cheesy,” you teased, reaching to his cheek to cup his face with your other hand, brushing softly over his patchy beard with your thumb, taking in the sight of your boyfriend’s face, the dimmed light that the windows allowed to get through them gave him an aura of safety and his skin seemed like it was sparkling.

You looked down to the small flower, still cupping his face, and you smiled at the way the purple petals danced on the stem, stirring as if the wey stretching after a long while dormant and encapsulated inside the wood of the beam. You brought it to your nose and the petals brushed the tip of it as you inhaled softly the scent of its core.

The flower smelled like the garden of your childhood home, like the perfume that your grandma used. It smelled like the mixed berries Frankie liked to munch standing in front of the open fridge in the middle of the night, it smelled like the dream you had the night Frankie came home after Colombia and that you couldn’t wipe out from your head.

You looked back at Frankie; he was grinning at the way the flower seemed to hug your nose as you smelled it.

“What?” you asked him, reciprocating his smile. He shook his head. Nothing. He inserted in your mind without parting his lips. You slid your hand to his neck and pulled him softly to you, he reached out, knowing what you wanted. Frankie always knew what you wanted.

When his lips brushed yours, you lifted your other hand and pushed the small flower between your mouths.

Frankie let out a chuckle at the action and sighed into your mouth when the flower opened up its petals to kiss you both back.

You let the flower fall to the floor when Frankie’s hands found their home on your waist again and pulled you to him, bringing you flush to his broad chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

Frankie’s lips tasted like the flower’s pollen and a faint hint of the fog that had tasted his words

His lips stole a moan from your throat as he used his tongue to open yours and you both heard the way the flower imitated your moan on her newfound place on the floor, making you both smile at the soft, almost imperceptible sound.

The air became warmer, thicker with all the love that exuded from your bodies. You both heard the secret teller moss yell at the way he was kissing you so the forest found out and it made you incredibly proud to have a man like him devouring your lips ever so softly.

“Make love to me, Frankie,” you whispered on his lips, carefully reaching into his throat and pulling out a soft groan out of it with your words. He just nodded in response and slowly guided your body to kneel on the sheet and kept kissing you.

Your mind reeled at the way Frankie used his lips to make you feel safe, protected, loved, cared for. By the way he, with a few movements of his lips, could make you feel like you had been kissing him and kissing him and kissing him for years and years and years.

Frankie’s hands roamed around your waist and the small of your back, without hurry they got under your shirt and you sighed at the warmness, soft roughness of his touch on your skin, you took his cap off and let it fall on the floor, next to the flower.

The flower crawled towards the cap as you continued praying against Frankie’s lips and snuggled next to the brim.

He broke the kiss, and you felt a gentle, faint breeze cover your body when Frankie took off your shirt, it felt as if it was caressing you softly, and it made the hairs on your skin rise.

Frankie stole your kiss again and hands trailed to cup your tits over the fabric of your bra and you let out a low whimper when he teased your nipples over it. You slid your hands from his neck to his chest and worked slowly to unbutton his plaid shirt. Your feathery touch on his warm, sun kissed skin made him moan softly, and the flower mimicked the sound again.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured on your lips when you made him take off the shirt. You smiled on his kiss, with him on you, on any part of you, you always believed him.

His lips traveled down to your chin, where he left a soft bite and ripped another soft moan out of you.

As you helped him to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, Frankie liked a stripe of skin from your chin to your neck and you smiled, your eyes were closed when his plush lips started nibbling at your tender, fog tasted flesh and once his belt was unbuckled and his pants were unbuttoned, he slid them down.

“Take off yours, baby,” he whispered, you bit your lip and did it; you undressed as he did and once you were completely naked, bared and vulnerable in front of him, he stopped his own movements to admire your body, “gorgeous.” the word slipped from his lips like thick, raw honey and fell onto the blanket, smearing on it, the fabric sensed it and absorbed the word and your eyes, as he reached for your naked waist, saw it disappear inside it.

Frankie brought you to him once again and his kisses fell on your skin like soft, summer rain; warm and light and all over you; your hands found themselves caressing any part of his body they could reach, making him drop little moans and whimpers on your skin, marking it, leaving it tainted with the soft noises that he produced as you enjoyed the softness of his body.

He laid you down on the sheet and it made itself cushioned under you, it was fresh, comfortable, soft and stirred ever so slightly under your body; it made you shiver softly.

Frankie’s lips went down your neck, his warm, soft tongue played with your nipples as his hands roamed up and down your torso, you buried your fingers inside his curls; scratched his scalp gently with your nails, making him grunt against your breast.

“Frankie,” you whispered out, his name floating all the way up like an inflated balloon and crashing onto the wooden beams with an unhearable thud, Frankie hummed in response with his mouth worshipping your other breast, his beard making the most gentle burns onto your skin “eat me.” you begged, closing your eyes when he smirked against the tender, already sensitive flesh of your chest.

Without saying more words his kissed trailed down your body, several of them on your lower abdomen, you chuckled and opened your eyes, lifting your head to look at him; Frankie was already looking at you; his deep, brown and amber looking eyes telling you without hesitance what he wanted, what he had been asking for months and months and months. You threw your head back on the sheet with a smile adorning your face as he took your thighs and gently opened them up for him; his face buried inside you and he inhaled the scent of your deepest corner.

With kitten licks, Frankie started tasting you; making you moan when his tongue went deeper, he opened you further and buried his tongue inside you, prompting a groan out of you; guttural, soft. Frankie smiled against your folds, proud and enamoured of the sounds he was making you produce.

Your hand pushed him further deeper inside you, Frankie eagerly opened his mouth around your core and started sucking and licking and nibbling and tasting. You threw your head to the side and your heavy lids opened just enough for you to look at the small purple flower that was snuggled right next to the seam of Frankie’s cap. It was lying on the floor almost lazily, its roots were stirring and stretching and you smiled at it; it was feeling it too.

Frankie’s fingers found your entrance and pushed inside, starting to curl and press and push to the sides and upwards, making you lift your back off the sheet and hatch your hips on his face, you moaned as he pulled his fingers out and in again at a tantalizing rhythm he knew you loved; his lips nibbled at your clit and his tongue teased at it in synchrony with his fingers, you let out a long moan and Frankie groaned against your core. The vibrations of his voice against your tender, swollen pussy made you stiffen and hold your breath, you gasped when he sucked at your clit rather hoarsely and the air that left your lungs through your lips traveled like a feather falling through the air and fell directly on the purple flower.

Frankie sucked and curled his fingers inside you and you rolled your hips against his face, he had built a coil inside you that was getting warmer and warmer with each wet lick on you; your hand fisted his hair and as the coil snapped in half, you pulled it, making Frankie grunt against you. He helped you ride your orgasm and as you came down from one of the highest climaxes he had made you feel in what it felt like years and years and years, he crawled slowly upwards between your legs, covering you with his body.

“Hey,” he whispered above your face, you opened your eyes and smiled when you saw his eyes, those beautiful eyes of his inches from you “you okay?” he asked. You nodded and cupped his slick covered face with both your hands, closing the distance between your mouths and tasting yourself in the process of devouring his lips.

Frankie whimpered at the depth of your kiss and when he broke it, you heard the slightest of sounds; a yelp that sounded both from afar and up close. You turned to the side at the same time and you let out a soft chuckle when you saw the purple flower standing. Its roots well planted into the wood tiles of the floor. An almost imperceptible coat of transparent slick covered its petals.

You turned to Frankie and he smiled at you, falling onto your lips once more.

Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck and your legs opened up for him to brush the underside of his duck against your wet folds; you shivered, feeling the way he was throbbing for you.

“I love you.” he whispered without whispering and you rolled your hips closer to him. He slid inside of you with any other intervention than the sole need you had for each other; he moaned softly against your mouth as his hips started thrusting inside you at a gentle pace you didn’t know he was capable of going at.

You stopped kissing him and pulled his body to rest on yours; one of his hands rested on your hip as the other moved to frame your head and he ground into you slowly; deeply; harder while his rhythm wasn’t strong.

Frankie hid his face in the crook of your neck and you wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle for both, you moaned when his cock started grazing a soft spot inside you that made you close your eyes and see the stars up close.

“More.” you heard a voice that wasn’t yours but sounded like you, and Frankie whined against your skin, licking you. He picked up the rhythm and went faster enough so you gushed around him and the noise of him pumping inside you inundated the room; as he drove into you and your throat made the most sweet and soft noises he swore he had ever heard you make, you heard the fog creeping into the house; it slithered in through the small openings the creeping plants were watching you make love from. You felt the weight of the fog falling on top of you and when it covered you whole, Frankie started pounding into you.

“Oh, god.” you moaned out. Frankie held you in place with a hand on your head and another on your waist and went impossibly faster, the noises that your skins made when they clashed together were being muffled by the fog, whose arm formed once more and caressed you both in places you wouldn’t let anyone else touch.

You heard another yelp from afar and your eyes looked for it in the purple flower, but it had turned its back to you and you noticed how, from the seams of the wood tiles on the floor, little purple nubs and buds started growing.

You gasped when Frankie changed the angle, sliding in and out faster than before, hitting your g-spot with more strength, and your breath hitched when he started grunting inside your neck. You turned your head to the other side and saw more of the purple buds. Some of them were opening already, and you felt your eyes water when you saw several small, slick covered purple flowers stretching their petals to the ceiling.

A deep, particular thrust of Frankie into you made your legs tremble. He started kissing your neck and your jaw and your chin, still driving into you at that murdering pace of his you had never felt before. You felt his beard tickling your skin, and you grew aware of every inch of sweaty, fog covered skin you owned; when he kissed your lips and ate the small moans you didn’t realize you were letting out, you grew aware of everything that rested inside your body, and you felt it move, grow, swell and deflate at the same time.

“Frankie,” you whispered against his lips, his cock driving into you and making you squirm beneath him “Frankie.” you gasped, his mouth trapped yours and you felt him throb inside your cunt.

“You’re here.” he muttered against your lips. The sudden, overwhelming emotion of being wrapped around him made you cum almost immediately with your eyes closed shut and your mouth opened at the fog’s mercy, that ate your moans with fervency.

Frankie slid in and out of you for more time than he had ever done before after your orgasms, he was whispering to you words you didn’t understand; you felt your eyes shed the tears they had held as you came at the sight of all the nubs and buds opening as Frankie thrusted into you. All of them opened as beautiful, small, slick covered purple flowers; carbon copies of the one he had found inside the piece of beam and gifted to you.

“They’re ours,” you gasped, Frankie hummed in affirmation, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth agape, his breath hitting your face, you cupped his face. “let go,” you whispered to him, caressing the flush skin of his face. “it’s enough, let go.”

Frankie moaned out and grunted, locking his hips with his cock fully inside you as he filled you with himself as deep as he could. He opened his eyes once the last drop of his seed was poured into you and gazed at you.

“How are they?” he asked, panting and trying to recover from his orgasm.

“They’re beautiful.” you replied with a teary smile, Frankie kissed you softly and turned his head to the sides, still inside you, looking at all the precious, tiny purple flowers that surrounded you.

“They’re ours.” he said with a smile adorning his face.

__

“Where the fuck have you been?!” the scream Santiago let out made you flinch, and you fisted and gripped Frankie's dampened clothes. His hold on your body tightened, and you felt another errant tear escape from your eyes.

“Pope.” Frankie could only let out that sole word, his throat was closed shut and the only thing that was keeping him from falling knees first onto the floor was your body and your need to be supported so you didn’t fall to the floor as well.

“Fish, what the fuck, man?” Santiago frowned at the look you two were carrying; your clothes were soaked wet and dirty, your hair was dripping muddy water. Frankie had wet knots on his hair and for Santiago it was odd looking at him without his cap on. You were shaking and almost climbing onto Frankie’s body.

Frankie didn’t answer. Santi looked at your feet and neither of you were wearing shoes.

“C’mon, c’mon in,” he stepped to the side and Frankie whispered in your ear to move, but he ended up almost carrying you inside. “you need a shower,” Santiago muttered when the both of you got inside and the swampy smell that clung to you brushed his nose. Frankie nodded and slowly walked inside Sant’s home towards the bathroom “Fish,” he heard the voice of his best friend behind him and stopped walking, not bothering to turn around “man, it’s been a year, where were you?”

You sobbed into Frankie’s shoulder and lifted your head to look at Santiago, who frowned when he looked into your bloodshot eyes.

“Living.” you whispered out, missing the fog’s arm, that was not there to eat at your words.

__

After a thirty-minute shower; in which both of you sat on the shower’s floor and Frankie attempted to unknot your hair as gently as he could while you shared furtive glances, feathery touches, kisses of understanding and heavy; painful tears, you were sitting on Santiago’s dining table wrapped in his clothes and a blanket, gripping each other’s hands as hard as you could.

“Where were you?” Santi asked, his voice soft, his eyes on you and the way Frankie didn’t seem to separate an inch from you.

“The forest.” Frankie muttered. Santiago sighed and tried to look away from you.

“For a year?” he let out in an incredulous whisper.

“It didn’t feel like a year.” you murmured, your voice thin as a thread, your eyes on Frankie’s side, you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean it didn’t feel like a year?” Santiago raised his voice and immediately caught himself and tried to calm down “we were about to pronounce you dead,” he tightened his jaw and his finger pressed on the wood of the table, you smirked at the parallels; his finger almost looked like Soleil, the first flower that you and Frankie gave birth to “both of you.”

“You wouldn’t get it, Santi.” you whispered, looking at him from Frankie’s shoulder.

“Explain it to me, then.” he said, crossing his arms on his chest, Frankie let out a huff.

“No.” Frankie said.

“We got lost,” you started. Frankie stiffened next to you and turned to the side to face you; he looked at your pleading face and with his eyes asked you if you were sure. You cupped his face, scratched his short beard and nodded ever so slightly; missing the way he would slip his words inside your mind when he didn’t feel like talking, “we got lost in the forest.” you said, still looking at Frankie.

Santiago stirred in his chair. He had never seen you do that, look into each other’s eyes so profoundly it felt like you two were sharing not only the same air, but the same brain; the same heart.

“And we found a house,” you turned to see him, teary-eyed and a soft smile adorning your face. Frankie hid his face inside the crook of your neck and breathed in deeply, your hand caressing his nearly knot-free hair. “and we stayed there.”

“For a year?” Santiago deepened his frown, you huffed and shook your head gently.

“For a week.” you whispered.

Santiago stood up from the chair and closed his eyes, he scratched his beard for a few seconds and turned to you.

“How?” you shrugged.

“We tried to make sense of it as we walked home,” you muttered. Santiago noticed how your eyes got lost in the space between you and him. “we don’t look like a year has passed, right?” you blinked a few times and focused on him. He shook his head “we were supposed to stay there until the sunrise, we just got lost.”

“What made you stay a week?” he asked, hesitantly.

You choked down a sob and felt Frankie’s hand slip out of your entanglement. He wrapped his arms around you.

“The babies.” he let out, his voice deep, his tone hurt. Santiago closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index.

“What babies?” he whispered out. Frankie scoffed at his friend’s reaction.

“Ours.” you let out.

Santiago sat down again and you felt yourself stiffen with the memory of them.

Frankie started talking, but his voice sounded far off and distorted. 

Your mind could only focus on the hundred little flowers that were born out of you and Frankie, on how they would make space for you and him to walk around them, on how, if you stopped, they would wrap themselves around your feet, burying them with their soft petals and bathing you in their pollen.

You felt your throat clench at the memory of them waking you up in the mornings as your limbs were wrapped around Frankie’s body, of their smallest voices laughing at his bad jokes or at them bathing in the sheer sunlight that entered through the windows.

They were yours.

They were yours and Frankie’s.

“They died.” Frankie let out with a shaky breath. You felt your face wet with the tears your memories had brought to your eyes and Santiago looked at you; his face quirked in worry, his eyes wet with sympathy.

“How?” Santi dared to ask.

“A storm.” Frankie let out.

You buried your face in his shoulder and cried.

Frankie looked to the seamless ceiling of Santiago’s home and felt his chest turn and burn at the sound of your sobs.

The morning they died, Frankie woke up by the sound of a loud thunder that shook the house; he gripped your body absentmindedly, the memory of the hard rain burning inside his mind made him reach to you, he didn’t like the sound of pounding rain. He loathed it, but you were sleeping next to him and your body was giving him the warmth he didn’t have before.

You were woken up by the second thunder that made the flowers shake their pollen off in fear.

The two of you were naked and the dreadful sound of big drops of water made you sit on the blanket. You turned to look at each other just as the rumbling of another thunder made the misty, foggy, dusty windows shackle on their frames.

At the fourth roar of another thunder several windows broke and the sharp curl of sturdy wind came through the windows, you screamed to him and you dressed quickly and went to look for anything to cover the broken windows.

You tore the blanket apart in several pieces to cover some of the now opened windows, rushing to stop the ferocious wind from coming inside the house, but the storm was strong and gripped at the pieces, snatching them away from your hands every time you tried to use them as a barrier.

Frankie yelled at you to try to use the parts of the loveseat that you had moved to the middle of the kitchen space, and when you tried the deafening, thunderous sound of a sky-tearing thunder made the front door fly open and the rain to flood in.

You were soaked to the bone and you looked down at your feet; the flowers were trying to climb up to your calves but failed each time. The water started streaming into the house from invisible tears on the ceiling and the water level was rising quicker than either of you would’ve liked.

“They’re drowning!” you gasped, covering your mouth with your eyes to prevent from scaring them more than they already were; the tears you knew you were shedding had mixed with the rowdy water that came from each broken window. Frankie acted out of his own fears, he frowned and kneeled on the floor, trying to pick them up, but each time he picked up some, they fainted on his hand. “stop!” you yelled at him. He did it again, not listening to your pleas. You rushed to him and pulled him back “you’re killing them!”

“They’re already dying!” he yelled back at you, his eyes reddened and his jaw tensed in pain. You pulled him back again when he tried to pick up more. “stop!” he yelled, pushing you away from him “let me save them!”

“You can’t!” you screamed at him under another thunder that made the ceiling crack, both of you looked at the beams trying to hold together but they swell with water and were about to give in “Frankie!” you called him, he stood up and took your hand in his.

“Let’s go!” you nodded and let out a sob when you saw the purple petals of the flowers floating on the muddy water, lifeless. Frankie pulled you towards the open door and forced you to run out.

Your feet landed on puddles of swampy water that were ankle deep and you gripped Frankie’s hand as he pulled you away from the house; he tried to regulate his own breathing, the feeling of mud burying his bare feet reminded him too much of another time in his life he didn't want or liked to remember, the rain fell on your bodies like needles and stuck to your clothes, tainting them with a green, dirt color that made you feel disgusting.

You walked together for what felt like hours upon hours upon hours; the secret telling moss was dead as well; the floor that had eaten Frankie’s backpack was flooded with the sharp water that fell from the sky. Corpses of bushes and moss and bugs and birds floating around your legs. It smelled like life. It reminded Frankie of war.

“And then we got out of the forest.” Frankie sniffed out.

Santiago was looking at the both of you with sympathy and pain in his eyes. He stood up from his chair and walked around the table. He stood behind you and wrapped his arms around the both of you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You sobbed out louder.

__

Many years later, when Frankie thought of the smell of the thick fog making contact with the grass, petrichor, is called, he would recall the time he spent with you on that place, in that time, and he would remember the eerie aura that you had carried with you during your stay; that aura that wrapped your naked body and that followed you wherever you walked to, you glowed.

Whenever you played with the flowers, or their tiny petals wrapped themselves around his fingers and you let out the lightest, freest, most liberating of laughs; you shimmered.

You never knew what happened or why it did; at nights, when you wrapped yourself around his body and he held you in place so you wouldn’t slip away from him, you talked about it, always coming to the same conclusion right before falling asleep. It was real.

And the love you had for each other grew because of it. And the love you felt for your babies existed. And the feeling of peace that it made you feel was still there.

It wasn’t like the feeling the hard rain gave him when he heard it. It was something else, something he couldn’t name, even decades after it happened.

let me know if you wanna be removed :)

pedrito's perma list: @northernpunk ​ @pascalesque ​ @sleep-tight1 @cheekygeek05 @bii-aan-ckaa @letaliabane @supernaturalgirl ​ @metalarmsandmanbuns ​ @asta-lily @alliterative-albatross ​ @greeneyedblondie44 ​ @missswriter @juletheghoul ​ @pedro-pastel @agirllovespancakes @charlispersonallyhell @hopeevenonthisside @sherala007 @magpie-to-the-morning

dick aneurysm: @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorianalso​ @purplepascal042 @maharani-radha @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @wyn-dixie @empress-palpat1ne​​ @charnelhouse​​

people i think would like this, but feel free to ignore lol: @astroboots​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @thirstworldproblemss​

[yeonchi]

The Koei Tecmo New Normal Copium

Ten years ago, on 20 March 2012, Koei Tecmo released Warriors Orochi 3 in the West without English dubbing. That day marked the start of Koei Tecmo’s disgrace to the Western fanbase and English dub fans in particular. People are probably going to gaslight me for this given that I’m talking about the whole of Koei Tecmo’s Western fanbase, but I say this because over the next decade, that disgrace continued to the point where they didn’t just cut corners in localisation, they cut corners in their games as well and by the time Dynasty Warriors 9 came out on 13 February 2018, the apathy set in and I had lost all optimism that Koei Tecmo would properly localise or dub their games again.

In the past two years, the term “new normal” has been used to describe how people around the world would live their lives as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, but recently, I realised that Koei Tecmo not dubbing their games has been their “new normal” for the past decade. In short, they thought the fans were fine with it, so they just carried on with that for future games, without taking other opinions into consideration. Am I the only one who’s starting to think that democracy as we know it is flawed?

Anyway, I already said as much when I said that I would be leaving the Koei Tecmo fandom in my post about Dynasty Warriors 9. As a result, I wouldn’t have gone to the effort of making this post in normal circumstances, so why did I do it? It’s because I’ve decided to return to the Koei Tecmo fandom on my own terms. This post is the end result of the Koei Tecmo fanbase huffing the new normal copium and my analysis of Koei Tecmo as a business over the past decade. My upcoming plans for Koei Tecmo content have already been covered in a separate post if you’re not interested in this one.

Some time after I made my post on DW9, a fan sent me a video by Jim Sterling about the dismal degradation of the Dynasty Warriors series and the rest of the Koei Warriors series in general. Recently, I also found two other rant videos on similar subjects by DrakeVagabond and Sex Gravy, and I honestly wish I’d found Sex Gravy’s video when I was doing my rants because the title of it literally is called “Why Koei doesn't give a Sunday Morning Left-Handed Wank about Dubbing Games anymore”, which is something that could have caught my attention and led me to dedicate a response rant to it. If what I’ve covered in the Koei Warriors Rant Series or Dub Logistics is still lacking (which I admit it does), then the three videos I’ve linked should have more than enough information to fill the gaps.

Basically, after watching the three videos and reflecting on my rants, I realised that the English dub problem with Koei Tecmo goes deeper than I first thought. While I have talked about certain games not being localised that could have really been beneficial to Western fans (like Warriors Orochi Z or Sengoku Musou 3 Z), there’s other issues like still releasing the games at full price digitally and not having demos, discounts, sales or just reducing the price as the years go on, the exorbitant amount of DLCs and the money required to get “the full experience” even with season passes or the Xtreme Legends spinoffs and finally, chasing stupid trends like console generation exclusivity, open worlds and realism, particularly when the trends have already passed elsewhere. Let’s not forget Koei Tecmo’s lack of effort in advertising the games outside of the internet and particularly, outside of Japan. Sex Gravy also points out how the translation quality seems to have dropped in subbed games, like their interest in proper quality control got cut along with their interest in dubbing, and the audacity of Koei Tecmo dubtitling their translations, that is, translating lines (such as officer defeated quotes) as if they were going to dub them, which is insulting because aside from the lines not even closely matching the original Japanese lines, it’s like they wanted to make the effort to dub the game but they gave us this as a compromise. It’s very clear that Koei Tecmo, like nearly every game company, care more about their back pocket than they care about their fans. Or, to put it bluntly, they just didn’t care.

Although it should be noted that Warriors Orochi 3 was the first mainstream Warriors game to not be dubbed, the first Warriors game to have had that treatment was Samurai Warriors Chronicles for the 3DS, a game that frankly, they should have passed on in favour of localising Sengoku Musou 3 Z, which would have brought in Samurai Warriors 3 Xtreme Legends for the Wii along with a PS3 port for that and the base game combined. It’s basically a Complete Edition and a precursor to the PS4 and Steam releases of Dynasty Warriors 8.

So why did I decide to come back to the Koei Tecmo fanbase after I left in 2018? The main reason was because tmma1869, one of my biggest fans during my Rant Series days (which is saying something given my obscurity), started playing Samurai Warriors 5 despite her similar disdain for Koei Tecmo and their fanbase. Another reason is because I recently realised that the Koei Warriors Rant Series wasn’t so much about the games themselves than it was a case study for English dubbing and a spotlight on the toxicity of the Koei Tecmo fanbase and dub haters in general. This was mostly because I didn’t have a PS3 back then (and I could have bought a PS4 but I got a Wii U like the idiot I was), but recently built a new PC and I talked myself into getting a PS3 emulator before I learnt that PS3 emulation had come a long way over the past decade, so I had no excuse. Yet another reason is because my guilty pleasure of playing Warriors games continued, even during lockdown as I made some Koei Tecmo content in 2020, including my retrospectives on Warriors Orochi Z and Dynasty Warriors 8, and revived my obsession, inspiring me to make content for it. I wasn’t sure what new things I could get into given that I’m feeling too old to get into new things, so I slowly clutched onto what remaining interests I had, which led me to here with Koei Tecmo in the first place.

Why did I start the Koei Warriors Rant Series in the first place? Before 2014, I’d been watching Let’s Play videos of Koei Warriors games on YouTube, and while watching the Warriors Orochi 3 gameplays, it struck me as odd that the voices were in Japanese yet the text was in English. The release of Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4 without English voices (despite me thinking that they would use the gap between WO3 and WO3U to dub the game) was what really got me angry enough to start the Rant Series by telling Koei Tecmo and their fanbase to commit seppuku and that they should be ashamed for wanting Japanese voices in the games at the cost of the English voices. Despite what many have assumed, I actually have no problem with playing the game in Japanese or reading subtitles, particularly given that I have played some Koei Warriors games with Chinese subtitles, but recently, I realised that I was doing this because I wanted to play the games with English dubs for the experience and the voice cast. Sure, I could mimic the English voice actors and pretend to say the lines in English, but that’s essentially a placebo and not a solution to the problem. This doesn’t mention other fans who might prefer English dub or the advantages of having it, but I thought I’d be altruistic anyway while I was at it. Also, it pissed me off that nobody, not even reviewers or gaming journalists, talked about the lack of English dub in localisations as much as I did (instead trying to pretend that it isn’t that much of a problem), but given how shitty gaming journalism is in current year, they’d probably be standing behind that practice anyway.

After the attention I got from the first part, I continued the series in the hope of getting an official response or explanation from Koei Tecmo. Admittedly, while subsequent instalments didn’t get the attention the first instalment got, I did hear a lot of speculative reasons from fans, but that wasn’t enough for me. The closest thing I got to an explanation was from some old comments made by former community manager Chin Soon Sun/inspchin, which basically boils down to sales and revenue, and I’ve never given Koei Tecmo the benefit of the excuse because I’ve been calling bullshit on this (and other excuses) since day 1. They couldn’t make the money (or the time) to hire 80 (more or less) English voice actors to voice over 150 characters, yet they somehow managed to do it with 110 Japanese seiyuu. They claim they can’t dub games because of sales, yet they still manage to keep making profits (assumedly) year after year from their fanboys, particularly with the prices they charge for games and DLC. Finally, if Samurai Warriors wouldn’t be authentic without the Japanese voices, then why dub the game in the first place? In fact, why dub any anime or game at all if you think Japanese voices are the only way people can enjoy it? More people prefer the Japanese voices instead of the English voices? OK, show me the polls and surveys so I can tell those people that their selfishness is the reason why we’re all huffing the Koei Tecmo new normal copium and that they should be ashamed of themselves.

I might not know a lot about business, but I know how to look at things from a customer-centric perspective. Two solutions I suggested include getting Koei Tecmo Japan to put more money in for an English dub or even better, getting the fans to crowdfund it (I would suggest paid DLC, but then I’d probably be complaining about how expensive it would be and how it would be insulting to dub fans as a result - free DLC is a fair compromise, but of course it’d be best to have dual audio options on release). Sadly, however, even as fans call gaming companies out for their shitty business practices, they still keep on doing it despite this because they assume their formula works because the reviews and sales support it. In short, Koei Tecmo got woke, continually doubled down, and went broke.

Have my views changed over the years? Yes and no. It was about 7 and a half years ago when I started doing my rants and over that time, I’ve learned to mature and look at things from different and more nuanced perspectives. Then Dynasty Warriors 9 came out and I just gave up because it was clear by then that the apathy had set in. There were some things I recanted on in the past because of flack I got from people, but given the situation we are in now, I’ve decided to stand behind everything I’ve said. I was ashamed to be a Koei Tecmo fan, but I was even more ashamed at the inaction and division within the fanbase, and as I’ve stated earlier, I hope other Koei Tecmo fans are ashamed as well.

I’ve noticed that most of the “opinion-neutral” people I’ve called out over the years really don’t seem to care about anything but playing the games because they’ll go at anyone who dares have an opinion about them, whether it be English dubs, PC ports (Koei Tecmo have really started to get into it now, only a few years too late as usual) or the quality of their games in general, calling them “entitled” or whatever when we’re just expressing our feedback to a company that won’t listen to their fans. These people are just as much a part of the problem because they’re unable to contribute anything or show support for things that don’t affect them (English voices and dual audio options) because their preferences are still there (Japanese voices). I know I like to preach about respecting other people’s opinions, but spineless and short-sighted people like these really test my tolerance, which is part of the reason why I said what I said in the first place. The simple nature of hack-and-slash games like the Koei Warriors series really seem to attract simple-minded people like me, and I think that’s the reason why the Koei Tecmo fanbase has the problems it has. It’s kind of like e-girls with simps on their Twitch streams and OnlyFans accounts.

And by the way, you know what the funniest and saddest thing about the localisation of Dynasty Warriors 9 is? The Empires spinoff was unsurprisingly localised without an English dub, meaning that Koei Tecmo were too cheap to hire the cheap studio they hired to dub the main game in English, let alone in Mandarin. Oh, by the way, in case you missed it in my DW8 retrospective, Koei Tecmo switched from Voicegroup (with all the union voice actors) to Voxx Studios not because of the SAG-AFTRA voice actor strike, but because they were being cheap as usual. They might as well have not made an English dub for it at all, since they’ve essentially made it clear that they’re only making the effort to dub the mainline Dynasty Warriors games. But hey, at least they credited the English voice actors this time, right? Lol, that’s not even a decent compromise. Koei Tecmo only dug this hole for themselves because of their short-sighted business decisions; they are to the gaming industry and localisation what Toei is to international distribution and copyrights.

So anyway, what’s my plan for getting back into the Koei Tecmo fanbase? Like I said, my plans for content already been covered in a separate post. Currently, I’m playing Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4, but only in Japanese because I’m still bitter at Koei Tecmo’s treatment of the games’ localisation. I also downloaded Warriors Orochi 4 as well, but I’ll cross that bridge in regards to reviews if I decide to do it. Of course, I have no intention of getting back into their social media pages or reengaging in discourse regarding English dubs or the like, because I’ve had enough internet slapfights with people who are really no better than I am, if not worse.

People have blamed me for causing harm to the fanbase and that I’ll probably contribute to Koei Tecmo leaving the Western market, which is frankly bullshit because anyone who unironically thinks this has no idea how corporations work and how Koei Tecmo, as a corporation, have no shame in what they’re doing. In spite of all the “fake fan” gatekeeping (which I’ve personally experienced and frankly, think it is absolute bullshit), “real fans” like me (along with Jim, DrakeVagabond, Sex Gravy and the fans of my rants) bring light to things other people won’t talk about, so if Koei Tecmo does end up leaving the Western market, it won’t be because of people like me, it’ll likely be because of other factors (mostly relating to their main Japanese branch) or because they can’t take criticism. A lot of my naysayers from the Rant Series days are no longer on Tumblr, most likely because of the 2018 NSFW ban and I don’t blame them, but everything I’ve said since the DW9 post in 2018 is just one great big “I told you so”.

In the end, when nobody is listening to you, you just do what you can to enjoy what you have. I’m going to wrap up with a paragraph from my DW9 post in 2018 that already sums up the situation perfectly in my opinion (emphasis mine):

On the other hand, I’m not saying that you should blindly show gratitude in the hope that things will be better, because chances are that Koei Tecmo will keep doing what they want within their budget and regardless of what their fans think. If you want to buy this game and support Koei Tecmo, then by all means do that. If you want to voice your feedback on how this game could have been improved, then by all means do that as well. In turn, everyone should accept that people will have different opinions from them and thus, respect the feedback of others. However, if you remain optimistic in the delusion that Koei Tecmo will keep dubbing their games (fully) with the same voice cast from previous games or improve anything to give you a better gaming experience than the average one you have now, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s probably not going to happen.