#Mona talking about Trails Ships

[asoulofatlantis]

You always say that you are a shipper and that ships are very important to you. So lets talk about that. I ask you for your top 5 moments/scenes of each of the following trails ships: Estelle and Joshua. Rean and Alisa. Elie and Lloyd. Cedric and Shirley. Millium and Jusis. Swin and Nadia. And I want an explanation of why every of those scenes is in which place (but maybe try to make it short)

(Me? Making it short? As if! XD)

Lets start with Estelle and Joshua.

Joshuas and Estelles reunion Sky 2

I don't really think I need to explain this one. There was something amazingly satisfying about the whole scene. First of all because we waited forever for this moment, but more so because of the fact that Joshua has acted like Estelle didn't mean that much to him anymore in the previous chapters, in fact, for a small moment it even looked like he was considering a future with Josette. So seeing that he still cared about her, that he still wanted to protect her, still loved her and that despite everything, nothing of his feelings for her has changed, was just... as I said before, so damn satisfying to watch.

2. Joshuas and Estelles reunion (part two) Sky 2 (Beach scene)

One might argue that that scene basically belong to the scene above, but I really think we should see them as separate scene, as this was basically the moment were Joshua has brought Estelle to safety and decided it was time to leave her again, just for her to  give him a piece of her mind and him ending up crying with her arms around him and then they FINALLY had a real true loves kiss and it was so... hach... magical. Shipping-Heaven and all. All was well again all of the sudden (after almost 6 chapters of pure utter suffering) in the World of Trails in the Sky ♥ (One might ask why that is not my most favorite scene, but the moment of screaming "FINALLY!" when Joshua came to save Estelle can not even be beaten by a kiss XD)

3. The painful love-confession Sky 1

Even tho the scene was somewhat bittersweet, I think the final scene between Joshua and Estelle in the first Trails in the Sky game was romantic in etwas very own way and deserves the third place in this list. After we started out with Joshua OBVIOUSLY being in love with Estelle and Estelle being as oblivious as Trails-Protagonists can be, it was so great to see her finally revealing her feeling to Joshua. And on the freaking rooftop of a damn castle. (Seriously, these guys have the best places for their best moments. I mean, how many people do get a sweet reunion kiss at a beach?) We also get a kiss in this scene, obviously, although that was the final nail in the "something is off here" - coffin, it was still kind of nice. How often do we get kisses that early on?

4. The scene were Joshua was supposed to kill Estelle Sky 2

Guys, the panic. The pure, absolute and utter panic you feel when you think of the fact that Joshua who FINALLY got reunited with his beloved sun, is about to kill her in a state where he has no control over himself and that when he gets back to his senses will have to face that he killed what he loved most in the world with his very own hands. But thank god the boy saw that one coming and suddenly, kneeling over Estelle, Sword on her throate and all (if you are into that kind of stuff, with no people around and all, that would have been the perfect moment to start making a smut out of this scene - and now you know my dirty secret XD), comes back to his senses and reveals that he knew that Weissmann would try to make him kill the love of his life and found a way not just around this, but also to break his stigma. The way the scene played out was really wholesome.

5. Joshua getting angry because Estelle was attacked Crossbell-Arc

I honestly can not remember the full scene or what exactly happened anymore - the Crossbell-Games are a blur to me mostly, to be honest - but wasn't it that Estelle was intervening in a fight and was attacked by Wald or so because he wasn't having her stopping him? In any case, what I do remember is how our dear, rational, calm and collected Joshua got pissed of because of that and I was like: Ah yes, the ship is still sailing quite well XD It seems like a rather small scene compared to the others, but after a while it was quite satisfying to see.

Honorable Mentions: Their link event (subtle but cute) and Cassius asking Joshua when he is going to marry Estelle in the Hajimari special - because for once in my life I did actually agree with Cassius damn Bright XD

Next is Elie and Lloyd and that is actually a hard one, because I can barely remember anything from the Crossbell-Saga. But I do try.

Their reunion-hug Hajimari

Most of you obviously saw that coming miles away but I loved their reunion in Hajimari. After waking up with Rixia in Crossbell, Elie is the first one Lloyd gets reunited with and its with a wonderful tender embrace and and absolut moment of blissful happiness for those two and I LOVED IT. (Doesn't have anything to do with them mirroring a certain scene in CS3 between Rean and Alisa that will definitely not at all get mentioned again here soon XD) Definitly the most heartfelt of Lloyds reunions and it speaks volumes how easily he falls into that hug and hugs Elie back with the tender voicedrop and all. Hach... being a shipper is great ♥

2. "I support you with my heart" (or something like that) Hajimari

Not so much after our sweet reunion we get Elie having some doubt because she couldn't protect KeA whom Lloyd loved so much and that she feels like some sort of mother figure towards. Well, true to his Trails-Protagonist-Status, he came to assure her that everything will be alright eventually, telling her what he thinks about the path she has chosen in life and ending up with her squeezing out of him that he supports her with his heart, while his hand was on her shoulders for like 5 minutes or so. Absolut gold and speaking volumes about the state of their relationship, even tho no one says it out loud.

3. The rooftop-scene (not sure if it was Zero or Ao tho...)

What would a Falcom-intended-ship be without a heartfelt talk while watching the nightsky? Lloyd and Elie have that one covered for sure and even tho I have my qualms with this scene and how Lloyds character kind of ruined it, it still was a really nice moment for shipper to see them have that kind of semi-romantic canon-moment.

4. The talk in the morning after (once again, no Idea if it was Ai or Zero)

So after some teasing from our dear Randy, Lloyd pointed out that he and Elie would never be a thing and while the scene was kind of ruining the shipping-vibe he and Elie gave at that point, it was still so damn hilarious to watch Lloyd digging himself a hole deeper than any Rean has ever been in while this whole time (and that is what still makes the scene somewhat worth being in here) he never claims he is not interested in her, in fact, he just thinks he is not worth her, actually hinting that he would be interested but feel like its useless because she deserves better than him. Laughing aside it also makes the scene kind of bittersweet.

5. Elie basically being the mother to KeA who sees Lloyd as some sort of father Zero & Ao

KeA was for me personally an absolut turning point for the Crossbell-Saga as she brought something to the SSS that it has been lacking before. As a shipper tho, the best thing KeA brought was the fact that after she basically chose Lloyd as her father figure, Elie was naturally taking on the position of a mother figure and it worked so well with Lloyd and it felt absolutely meant to be this way. Your ship kinda raising a child together is somehow a next level-happyness moment for me as a shipper, so it needed to be mentioned here.

Honorable mentions: The optional scenes: Elie and Lloyd going to that party together dressed all fancy, the almost kiss at the IBC and the heart to heart on the Mekaba.

Next are Swin and Nadia. (I am obviously not following the order, because I want to save the best for last XD) They didn't have that much screentime or shipping-scenes, despite being obviously intended to be a ship, so this will be even harder than Elie and Lloyd.

1. Swin pulling a Joshua on us Kuro 2

Probably no surprise to you that for Swin and Nadias best moment, I chose the moment were he jumped in to attack the fake Ace in favor of protecting Nadia after leaving her behind for so damn long. And of curse the hug that followed after it. After everything those two put me threw in a game that wasn't even their own I deserve a thousand more of those hugs I tell you. But for now, that one was more than satisfying for me as a starving shipper. Also, I kind of liked the idea that they more or less copied what Joshua did with his Stigma, to protect Estelle. Because it says a lot about the direction Swin and Nadias relationship is going in.

2. Nadia sleeping on Swins lap Hajimari (and Kuro flashback)

It was so freaking cute ♥ I mean, if you have read 3 and 9 (which you should) you already knew that Nadia can only properly sleep when she has Swin closeby, like... body-contact closeby works best, but seeing it firsthand was so damn cute. And I loved that when she woke up and called for Swin, who had been checking on things in the cockpit, he immediately returned to her. I mean, guys lets face it, was is cuter then character A laying resting with their head in character Bs lap?

3. Their reunion-hug Hajimari

The whole mess of Swin and Nadia as well as Rufus and Lapis being separated by whatever force has wonderfully shown how far our other groups have come in the meantime and how far Rufus team still has to go. However, the greatest part about it was Swins utter panic about not being able to protect Nadia and how Rean made sure to keep him calm until they could actually reunite and then, when they finally did have their reunion, Swin might have been surprised by the hug, but he certainly hasn't pushed Nadia away and the whole situation was all in all really cute. (Bonus points if you have noticed Reans silence after Swin said Nadia was like a sister to him - I felt like he was thinking the same thing that went through my head back then: "Yeah. Sure. Keep telling yourself that. God, this line is getting old at this point." XD)

4. Schoolfestival dance 2.0 Kuro 2

With the weird mix of Shizuna and Aaron and me not being sure about Feri and Quatre dancing together either, Swin and Nadia dancing too kind of made that scene a lot more enjoyable, especially since Nadia looked so happy. And dance-scenes certainly are an important part of any shippers greatest shipping-dreams and many ships will never ever get a dance scene (especially given how Van didn't dance with either Elaine or Agnes) so one must enjoy moments like these.

5. Riding on a motorbike together Kuro 2

Its once again really just a small moment, but I found it so cute to see Nadia hugging Swin from behind and enjoying it so much, while they were sitting on a bike together in the last Connect-Event with Van. Its small moments like these, for small ships like these that makes you happy.

Next is Millium and Jusis. They also don't have that many big moments, but they gathered a hand full of small moments over the cause of 5 games, so that should be doable.

Honorable mentions: Their introduction scene in Kuro 2s opening. Nadias reaction when it looked like Swin was stabbed in Kuro 2.

(By the way... how was I supposed to keep that short with so many ships? However, funny enough, Tumblr just told me the text is too long, so I have to make a separate post to answer the rest of the ask ^^‘)

[kneipho]

Hope Springs Eternal Part Two.

--

One should be cognizant of tread marks of a different kind that await all of us.

But attitude is key. A timeless trait.

More fodder this for that colourful cryptic creation I’m churning about in my brain.

One could not help but notice the dwellings in this compact charming but claustrophobic town.

They were spreadeagled to a fault with scant regard for privacy or personal space.

Neighbours like nodding polders wave from their aluminum polycarbonate verandas.

The sort with integrated guttering and moulded frames.

All packed together like crates in a warehouse.

A carbon copy of some construction company’s catalogue.

The trailing shrubs, wilting flowers in mosaic porcelain propagators, superimposed trellises and overstocked pools to name but a few.

They only served to reinforce their stylish if somewhat stifling similarity.

I was mindful of today’s appointment thanks to my tarnished gold watch and the sonorous chiming of the nearby chapel clock.

Of course one must not overlook Mr and Mrs Ispy as they were nicknamed locally.

The naughty snoops who were minding everybody’s business bar their own.

Adam and alma ahern were their names.

Aunt Virginia had some scathing words about their type.

“Some people base their whole world around tittle tattle.

They are grounded in matters that smart folk view with Olympian disdain.”

One can just imagine the cocked ears and protruding noses feasting on every scrap of scandal real or contrived.

Theirs was an in-built antennae always aligned for mischief of the murkiest kind.

They had an ubiquitous presence.

You never knew what hedge or door they might pop out of.

They sniffer dogged their way around every trail, route, and byway in pursuit of some scurrilous rumour.

Encylopaedic were they on shenanigans of all kinds.

A satellite dish for backstabbing and intrigue.

Some were even so unkind as to suggest that they spied on each other.

They knew everybody and wormed their way into everyone’s confidence when they could!

Gossips at the cutting edge of trivia.

“Oops ….oh no! I’m about to crash.”

I said with my voice trembling.

Lost concentration for a minute.

My notepad and pen skating on a footpath that resembled a small scale ice rink.

Aunt virginia’s word’s about focus were never more valid.

“There goes my poem on …a mudpatch.”

Despite this sudden intrusion I kept my balance but maybe lost something valuable.

A tumult of events on the ground and overhead took place.

Shrill birds chirping and circulating in the sky, swooning and swooping like a scene from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

As I slowly regained my balance I walked wearily and warily towards the diary with said verse.

The lines were smeared with mud.

Uncannily like a lady’s mudpack.

The heartfelt lines were still legible.

Well, just about.

My heart was beating for various reasons now.

I had a 4pm deadline to meet with forty or so minutes to spare.

Yet there were so many distractions.

An embarrassment of diversion sometimes towered above that stultifying uniformity which threatens even the most imaginative town architecture.

Or was my mind playing tricks on me with all the soundscapes and stimulation of the senses?

The downside of being a poet and writer perhaps?

Virginia’s words of wisdom coming back to haunt me but would I listen ?

The real world and fantasy can segue into one another with distinctions blurred and the usual proneness to exaggeration.

Were the exotic whiffs of Bombay mix recipes emanating from a market place bazaar or some nearby dwelling?

Were they just an illusion with factual elements mixed in?

Either way a favourite haunt of both the Ispy’s and the teen couple I had spoken to earlier was a marketplace.

Both had their own agenda with the aherns being the

more devious!

“Pumpkin seed baps on spits reeking of sesame oil with the most aromatic seasonings wafting everywhere or so I thought.

Incense and Moroccan spices taunting the nose of this stroller on a mission. But also setting off rumblings in the tummy that couldn’t be sated immediately.”

A very vivid image of Virginia with her Mona Lisaesque demeanor appeared.

I was juggling her insights on punctuality and other matters and trying to act on them.

Was I clutching at an ebbing twilight zeal or a burgeoning young at heart momentum?

Distractions make inroads into time but I felt I was being drawn to them.

Did I hear the raucous sound of docker’s voices barely audible but imaginable above the booming traffic?

Were they coming from somewhere close?

Maybe the ships trademark foghorn was setting off an overactive mind or had I supernatural powers at this point in my life?

Whatever the truth, there’s been many a threadbare naval yarn I’ve overheard.

The type that has been twisted, embroidered, embellished even marinated on seas high and low.

Gag induced guffaws billowing upwards as smoke from a chimney stack.

Uproarious bonhomie drowning out the offloading of fetid fish catch.

The vortex of a spiraling timeline giddy with impulse and image drove me on in defiance of their colour and charisma.

But before I knew it a wafer thin voice called out from the corner shop, the location of my rendezvous.

“Hello. Hope spring. I’m your date.

Bang on time both of us.”

A spritely lady in her late sixties with profuse greying hair.

Her eyes were so expressive and sparkled with life.

“Don’t know if I shared my last name when we first met.”

“You did.” I replied.

Virginia, would be proud of my recollection.

“Did you get my call earlier this morning reminding you of the date?”

Hope Spring queried.

“I must have missed it.” Said I archly.

“I also wanted to ask how the poem was going?

We started talking casually as you were writing it.

You were having trouble naming it.”

She said.

“I couldn’t think … how about?”

We both spoke at the same time and laughed.

“Hope ….hope springs eternal!”

The good of it all had us in stitches. I doubt my aunt Virginia would have approved with her dislike of such humour.

“Have you got the poem with you?” Hope enquired.

“No. Sorry, hope some of the lines are a bit muddied.” A reply that made me blush.

Virginia would have scowled.

“Maybe the next time we meet you’ll have it done.” Hope again.

That sounds promising I muttered to myself.

“Yahoo…..you two love birds.

Have fun. See you at the local coffee house.”

Sonia and Winifred’s message as they passed by on their bicycles jolting us out of our conversation.

“Lovely people. Maybe we should take their advice and head off that way.”

Hope placing her right hand on mine.

I nodded in agreement.

“I’ve had this strange feeling all day that I’m being watched… another presence.

Ever had that feeling?” Miss Spring enquired

innocently.

“As I haven’t been in this town for long

it seems more intense than the usual curiosity.”

She continued.

“Shortly after I arrived in this

area I met a charming couple called the aherns.

They warned me of gossips who fed on eavesdropping and misfortune.

Maybe that’s it. I’m certainly grateful for their warning.” Said Hope.

I could barely restrain myself at this bizarre twist that Virginia would definitely

have found amusing.

At that I walked towards the cafe with Hope while craning my neck, taking in all all my surroundings and noticing everything!!

–

Sunday Submission: @mantrabay

Photograph and short story part two by mantrabay copyright protected

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 9

Hey y’all. here’s the next chapter of M’Baku’s Love. It’s a shorter one, but we’re almost at the end of our journey! 

Check out my masterlist HERE to catch up and to read my other stories including my new fic “Ménage `a Trois”, a T’Challa x  OC x M’Baku throuple fic that’ll be starting this month. Check out the preview here!

Word Count: 3385

“JJ, stay where mommy can see you, ok?”

“Ok mommy!”

Monae watched with a relaxed smile on her face as her three year old ran around playing with the other kids. They were new to the playground, so all of the adults kept eyeing Monae from a distance. She felt very uncomfortable having all those white people staring at her, but the park was in her neighborhood, one that white folks only started moving into a couple years ago. She grew up playing in that park with other kids who looked like her, and now they were the only Black people there. One of the gentrifiers got brave and decided to come over and introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Tara. The curly little redhead in the overalls is mine.”

“Cute,” Monae shot her a quick smile that didn’t even reach her eyes.

“Well I just wanted to welcome you since you’re new around here. What’s your name?”

“Why?” Her voice went flat.

“Just being friendly, no need to get hostile.”

Monae rolled her eyes and Tara walked back to the huddle to report her findings and no doubt complain about the new girl’s “attitude.” Monae checked the time on her phone and got up to go grab her son when someone across the way caught her eye. She’d recognize that gait anywhere, and the two fierce-looking bald women flanking him were a dead giveaway. She watched him exit the old abandoned school building and walk around the outskirts of the park, presumably on his way to a car that would take him to who knows where.

 “T’Challa...T’Challa!” She quickly found JJ and placed him on her hip before she made her way closer to the King of Wakanda to get his attention. “T’Challa!”

This time he turned around, and when he saw her his eyes lit up.

“Monae! How are you?”

She set JJ down and they hugged like old friends. She turned to Okoye and Ayo, hugging them both tight as well.

“I’m making it. How are you? What are you doing here?”

“Well a little birdy told me about a certain neighborhood that could use some Wakandan assistance and I figured I’d come see it for myself. I’m thinking of opening an Outreach Center here and a couple other cities since we were finally able to get Oakland back up and running, which is almost exclusively thanks to N’Jadaka. What are you doing here?”

“I moved back after The Blip, so now I live about four blocks that way,” she pointed behind him. “So how are things back home?”

“We are still trying to restructure everything, it is a mess since we lost over half of our people...not to mention the ones we love.” The king’s eyes lowered to the ground as grief briefly flashed across his face, making him catch a glimpse of the child standing partially hidden behind his friend’s leg. “And who might you be?”

The king crouched down to his level and he cautiously came out from behind Monae.

“It’s ok baby, he’s a friend of mommy’s.”

T’Challa’s ears perked up and he looked at the boy’s face, taking in his strong brow and slightly downturned mouth...and then the boy smiled and the gap between his two front teeth gave it away.

“Everyone calls me JJ, but I’m Jabari.”

“You sure are.” He chuckled before looking to Monae then back to the little boy. “I’m T’Challa.”

“Challa?”

He chuckled, “Yes, Challa. How old are you, Jabari?”

He held up four fingers and Monae reached out to push his pinky back down.

“I’m three. How old are you?”

“Thirty four.”

“Woah, that’s old!”

“Jabari-”

“It is ok,” he chuckled before standing back upright. “He looks just like him.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” She smiled fondly down at her little gift from Hanuman and the Ancestors and rubbed her hands along his messy locs as she made a mental note to retwist them later.

T’Challa had time to sit and talk, so they went back to the playground to give JJ more time to tire himself out. He ran around the jungle gym while the four of them kept an eye on him, and they all noticed how distressed the white people looked after the arrival of the Wakandans. Must have been too many Black people for their tastes. 

“I take it this is not the crowd you grew up with?”

“Not at all, they used to avoid this neighborhood like the plague.”

T’Challa nodded before changing the subject, “So, Jabari, JJ-”

“Either one is fine.”

“I think I’d like to call him Jabari then...rolls off the tongue, you know?”

Monae chuckled at the king and nodded her head.

“Does he ever ask about him?”

“All the time now. His school let him start pre-K early, so he’s met some of the other kids’ dads and wanted to know where his was. I told him he died, but I didn’t tell him how...I can’t even understand it myself.”

“Mm. I was there and I don’t quite understand it either.”

“There?”

“Yes, when the snap, excuse me, ‘The Blip’ happened.”

“What...what happened?”

Okoye looked to the king questioningly with an eyebrow raised, unsure of if he should tell her the truth, but he ignored her glances.

“Long story short: an alien wiped out half of all life in the universe with a snap of his finger in a very special gauntlet.”

Monae was silent as she tried to process his words.

“Was that related to the second alien attack in New York? The one right before it happened?”

“Yes, they were looking for a piece of the gauntlet.” 

Monae thought back to how scared Jazz was when she called her that day, frantically screaming about a ship in the sky.

“Wow...I knew after the first New York attack that things were gonna get weird, but this is something else. Half of all life?”

T’Challa nodded, “In the entire universe.”

Monae sighed and sat back as she watched JJ run back over to them.

“Mommy!”

“Yes, JJ?”

“Can I go on the swings?”

“Sure baby, just give me a moment to talk to my friend first.”

“Ok!” his little legs ran back towards the carousel and he sat in the middle as some slightly older kids spun him around. 

“He’s such a happy child, you’re doing a good job.”

“Thank you. It’s not easy, but I have my Aunt Sarah and my sister is thinking about moving back, so I have at least some support system...it’s just hard without him.”

“You know he’d be ecstatic.”

“Oh my god, he’d make him into his own little mini-me.”

“He would definitely have him running around learning how to be a little Jabari warrior…” T’Challa’s voice trailed off as something dawned on him.

“Monae,” he turned to face her directly, “you do know that he is the heir to the Jabari throne?”

She froze, having foolishly hoped it wouldn't come up.

“I-I know,” she hung her head before a realization hit her and she jumped up. “You won’t take him, will you?”

“No, I wouldn’t dare. Not unless you were willing to come with him.”

“Maybe when he’s older-”

“Mommy!” her son said impatiently as he walked back over to them.

“Just a minute, JJ.” 

T’Challa stood and straightened out his suit, buttoning it back up in the process.

“Well I don’t want to keep you. Here,” he pulled out a card and scribbled something on the back before handing it to her. “That is my personal line, call if you need anything at all, Monae. I mean it.”

He pulled her in for another hug just as JJ made it over to them. The king crouched down and held his hand out for a high five. JJ’s little hand slapped his much larger one and Monae smiled as the king stood back up.

“I’m sure I’ll see the two of you soon. You know, if we do end up opening here, we’re gonna need all the help we can get…”

Monae’s face lit up as he and his Dora walked away. She had been working as an art teacher again, and though she loved it, nothing compared to the Center. The thought of working in one in her own community warmed her heart. 

“Mommy I like him, he’s nice.”

“He is, we used to work together...and we might be again soon,” she spoke to him as they walked over to the surprisingly empty swing set.

--------

About a year later, T’Challa announced that he would be opening up Outreach Centers in various cities across the country, including one in North Nashville, just like Monae had suggested. After another year, the Center’s doors opened and Monae, the new Director of Social Outreach, was loving her new position. It felt like everything she had wanted to do her whole life was finally coming to fruition, and since she had been working so hard lately she decided she would treat herself to a day off. She took the morning to herself, getting her signature fade dyed seafoam green and stopping by the nail salon for a manicure before getting JJ out of school a little early.

“Wanna go to the Adventure Science Museum or to a movie?”

“I want to climb in the heart!”

“Museum it is then,” she chuckled thinking about how much he loved the body exhibit at the museum. Kids could crawl through a model of the human heart and lungs, and JJ made sure he always got a look at the “cool insides.”

They made it to the museum and JJ made a beeline for the climbing jungle gym tower in the middle of the museum that would take him up to the body exhibit. Monae followed him from the stairs and felt her phone buzz, she looked down to see it was a message from T’Challa.

“Get home.”

No context, just “get home,” but she knew the king well and heeded his advice. She looked up to the tower and saw JJ climbing up a net wall.

“JJ, baby, come back down here.”

“But the heart-”

“I know, but come on. Now.”

JJ could tell something was wrong, but his little shoulders still slumped as he climbed his way back down the netting and through the tunnel that led to Monae’s spot on the third floor landing. However, before he got to her the strangest thing happened. A cloud of dust appeared before his face and formed into a kid not too much younger than him. He screamed and Monae looked up from her phone, closing her message to T’Challa.

“JJ? JJ?! Baby whe-”

Then she saw something she never thought she would see in her life, much less twice. People were forming all around them in clouds of dust. Lost children, frantic parents, a crying baby, and museum staff all swirled around Monae as she tried to sidestep their forms and get to her scared little boy. She couldn’t see past the reappearing children on the tower, but she knew he had to be close.

“Mommy!”

She heard him yell and looked up to see him on the landing above her with tears in his eyes as he watched the unexplainable. Monae ran to him in no time flat and grabbed his hand before they bolted down the stairs as best as they could without running into anyone’s reappearing body. The parking lot was just as tricky, and she tried to drown out the sounds of the worried parents looking for their children and the wailing children scared of being alone. She grabbed JJ’s hand tighter and pulled him along as museum staff and some of the calmer adults rounded up the children and brought them inside. When they made it to their car there was a woman standing by the door and looking into the window, so Monae’s hand landed on her pepper spray just in case.

“Can I help you?”

The woman jumped upon hearing her voice, and when she turned around Monae could see her face was still forming.

“I-I’m sorry, I was just about to unlock my car door and…” she trailed off, looking around trying to take in the scene.

“Ma’am, if you go back into the museum they might be able to help you.”

She nodded and walked towards the doors in a daze.

“Mommy, what’s happening?” JJ’s face was covered in tears and snot and as soon as she got him in her carseat she found some tissue to take care of it. 

“I-I don’t know, baby.”

She knew, kind of, she just didn’t have the words at the moment.

Monae carefully drove them home through the chaotic streets and when they got there she checked all the rooms just in case. It was just the two of them and Juju now since Aunt Sarah passed a few months ago, but JJ kept the house lively enough for it to not feel empty. Juju, completely unaware of the hysteria of the outside world, came up to greet JJ, her favorite person in the whole wide world. Monae believed the cat would probably kill for JJ and she was happy to have her little scrappy behind around. 

Just as she sat on the couch and took a breath, her phone rang. She answered without even looking and the voice on the other line cracked as it spoke.

“They’re back.”

“I-I know. Me and JJ were at the museum and...T’Challa it was horrible. I mean, it’s a good thing, but the chaos and the screaming...I don’t know how to explain to JJ what he saw, I barely understand it myself.”

“Monae, you’re about to have a lot more to explain to JJ…”

“What do you-” it dawned on her and she dropped the phone. M’Baku was back.

--------

The Jabari mountains were abuzz with the news that their chief had returned. For the past five years the council had been running the tribe just as they did when he spent time in Oakland, and although they liked how things were going, they were glad to have M’Baku back.

To M’Baku and the other “Dusted”, as the Jabari called them, they were only gone mere seconds. When he materialized on his throne he was still saying whatever it was he started saying five years prior. The looks on the council’s faces confused him and he noticed they were all of a sudden wearing different clothing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

He looked to his right as saw Ada reappear before him.

“Mama? What- somebody explain this to me at once.”

“Great Gorilla, we have missed you. You and your mother along with half of the world were gone...disintegrated,” Abiola, one of the elders, spoke up.

“That...this makes no sense,” he shook his head as he reached out for his mother's still-forming fingers. 

His kimoyo beads rang and he answered the call, the king appearing before him.

“It’s good to see you again, brother.”

“I saw you just yesterday, but hello. My king, what is-”

“I will explain everything, but first we are needed in battle.”

On the other side of the world, Monae tried to keep her cool as she cooked dinner and JJ watched Moana in the living room so she could still keep her eye on him. She knew it was probably a ridiculous thought, but she feared the snap could happen again and she could lose him at any moment. She didn’t want him out of her sight. 

She absentmindedly stirred the spaghetti sauce as she listened to him singing along with Maui. Her eyes shifted to her phone every few seconds and she tried to get herself to stop, knowing that T’Challa was probably busy fighting the aliens again or something equally ridiculous and dangerous, but she couldn’t help the nagging feeling in her gut that said to call him.

Dinner came and went and just as she was getting herself ready for bed late that night her phone rang. She ran from the bathroom with her face mask only halfway washed off to get to it in time and when she saw “T” on her screen she almost cried in relief. 

“Hello?!”

“Monae, are you alright?”

“No I’m not alright, what the fuck is going on, T’Challa?”

“The aliens came back, but this time we won.”

“That’s it…?”

“I could give you all the details, but that’ll take like six hours and right now I’m tired from fighting said aliens. But you should know I spoke to M’Baku. I didn’t tell him about JJ, but I told him to call you.”

Monae was silent as she took in his words. She’d be hearing his voice soon. After all these years she’d get to hear him laugh again. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she and JJ would have the opportunity to have him in their lives, but here she was, waiting for his call. Her line of thought was interrupted by a beeping on her phone. She pulled it from her ear and her heart dropped into her gut.

“T’Challa he...he's calling right now. I have to go.”

“Good luck, my friend.”

He ended the call and she took a deep breath before pressing the little green symbol on her phone screen.

“Hello?”

There was silence on the other end, but she could hear the sound of shuddering breaths.

“M’Baku?”

“Monae,” his voice cracked and tears rolled down her face.

“Hi.”

“I...I did not mean to leave you for so long, I-”

“I know, you got snapped...you were gone for five years, M’Baku.”

“I know...so tell me, what have you been doing in that time?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “I moved back home and now I’m the Director of Social Outreach here at the Nashville Outreach Center. Jazz is about to move back too, so she’ll be staying with me to um….help with...M’Baku there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh no, are you married? Don’t tell me Juju passed...”

She laughed, remembering how much he loved the temperamental cat. 

“No, Juju is more than fine. It’s um...M’Baku this isn’t easy for me to say...are you alone right now?”

“Yes, I am in my chambers. Tell me what is wrong, babygirl.”

She closed her eyes tight and the tears sprung forward at hearing him call her that name again. She had compartmentalized enough to be able to go on without him in the world and now hearing his voice was just all too much. “Babygirl” was the final straw as she cried into the phone.

“I-I’ve missed you so much, M’Baku. You have no idea, he...he looks just,” she broke into sobs again and he waited for her to finish. She took a deep breath to compose herself before speaking, “Baby...you have a son. I found out I was pregnant after everyone disappeared...you’re a baba.”

M’Baku was silent as he processed the new information. In his mind, he just left her in Oakland two months ago and now he has a five year old son.

“M’Baku?”

“Yes, I am here...I just...a son?”

“Mhm, and he looks just like you. Here, I’ll send a picture.” Monae quickly scrolled through her camera roll before sending off her favorite picture of the two of them at the park, taken by Uncle Challa of course. When M’Baku opened the picture he was in awe of both of them. Monae was thicker in the waist and her hair was a striking black, the closest she’d come to her natural hair color in years. Her clear-framed glasses slipped down her nose as she smiled wide right next to a little boy that looked just like M’Baku did as a kid. He had Monae’s doe eyes, but everything else came from his baba, right down to his stature. 

“He is beautiful...you both are. What is his name?”

“Jabari, but he mostly goes by JJ.”

A smile appeared across his face, “Jabari, huh?”

“Yeah, well I figured he should have some sort of connection to his baba’s side even if he wasn’t here.”

“When can I see him?”

“When can you get here?”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@theblulife @maddeningmayhem @devnicolee

[zettasserda]

How the Mighty Fall (in love) - (1/2)

Poppy x MC

words: 1,662

rating: m (swearing)

a/n: alright so as i’ve said in the sneak peak, i’m not a writer and when i do write, it’s rarely so bear with me. i had this idea concept of a confrontation between poppy and mc that happens in the bathroom while mc is being already late to kingsley’s class and poppy wants to have some fun with her. 

i hope ya’ll enjoy

Sitting on the toilet and doing her thing, Bea looks around searching for any trace of vandalism. A graffiti here, a renaissance inspired dick drawing there and maybe even a letter plus another letter carved into the wooden bathroom stall - the ultimate modern symbol of love. All of the artistic things she had easily found in at her previous college and grown to love.

She zones back in as she hears someone enter the bathroom, stopping at the sink. Realizing she was done with her thing, she dresses back up and pushes the door open, exiting the stall.

And the person that stands in front of the mirror like on a fucking fashion show, is none other than the Bloody Mary herself. It makes Bea suppresses a shudder, as she approaches the sink.

"I wouldn't want to inhale radioactive particles emerging from your way, villager." Poppy states not even bothering to look at the other girl as she puts her fabulous cherry lip gloss on. Bea rolls her eyes at that, but moves to the next sink in the row. She does a small curtsy in Poppy's direction, which makes the blonde glance annoyingly at the girl's reflection in the mirror.

"Weren't those outlawed in the eighties for being totally lame? I mean, your whole look is so depressing. I may actually be dead right now." The Queen B points the tip of her lip gloss at the new girl's brown sneakers as she gestures at them.

Bea lets out a low hum of disappointment as she turns the faucet on and starts washing her hands, but doesn't ever bother to glance at the blonde.

Her lack of response brought a certain amount of impatience and displeasure on the shorter girl's face, as she taps her foot a few times disapprovingly against the bathroom floor. She checks herself out in the mirror as she starts speaking again.

"Everything about you screams pig mud. It's exhausting to look at you." Poppy pushes, continuing to delicately trace her lips using her favorite beauty weapon. Bea sighs as she finally gives in and pleases the girl with a remark and a question of her own.

"Do you ever get tired tearing other people down?" She prompts the blonde.

"No, not really." Poppy answers nonchalantly as she finally finishes putting her lip gloss on, not before letting out a small pop. There is a short-lived silence between them, until surprisingly Bea cuts the haunting but weirdly satisfying tension first.

"What, no oompa loompas in their Loubuttons following your spoiled ass around today?" Bea throws a curious glance over at the Queen B, wiping her hands with a paper towel nearby.

Poppy glares at the taller's girl reflection on the mirror, shoving the lip gloss in her handbag more hastily than intended. God, this woman infuriated her. Realizing that silence was her only answer, Bea continues pushing and the roles reverse, as they always do. She thrives on testing the other girl, knowing she is the only one who can put her back where she belongs. And it is beautiful and freeing - a great revelation in Bea's life.

"Are they finally aware of the fact that you sleep in a casket and live off the blood of villagers?

She smirks at the blonde after disposing the used paper towel in a trash can, never letting her gaze wander off of the other girl. Bea expects an answer - no, not an answer, more of a snarl, an animalistic growl. She certainly had a lot of training from all that yelling at the poor maids.

"Or maybe they're still chained up at the wall in your hidden dungeon." The new girl folds her arms over her chest as turns to fully face Poppy, lifting her left brow, "When do you take them out for a quick walk?"

This gets her attention, as Poppy turns almost too quickly around to finally lock eyes with Bea.

"Don't be jealous at the fact that I actually do have friends here. And your only known way of making them is snorkeling with Becky the cow in vicious, underhanded local gossip and rolling around in mud." She belts it out like a song and Bea lets herself chuckle at that, because how can she not at the bratty girl?

But the bratty girl doesn't plan on stopping there.

"Also that lame version of Janelle Monae girlfriend of yours is gonna drag your rep down like an anchor to the depths of Freaksville." Bea's sudden smug smile turned cold stare can cut Poppy's petite figure in half, as the blonde only snickers at that motion.

"I mean, how damaged does a girl have to be, to be into someone as annoying as you, Fetus Face." She snorts as she concludes her voiced thoughts.

This fucking girl, both of them think at the same time.

Bea continues staring at her as if she was analyzing a brilliant cut diamond, until she opens her mouth.

"Oh wow, pretty little liar isn't even aware of the fact that her minions don't see her as anything more than a self-proclaimed magnet for popularity and reputation based on levels of fear factor." Bea uncrosses her arms and starts waving her hands in the air as if she was demonstrating a rather unknown history fact to her class. Across from her, Poppy furrows her eyebrows down so hard luckily they don't combust on the girl's face right there.

"What the fuck are you babbling about, treasure trail? They're my friends, they listen to me, they care-" She tries to simultaneously stop Newbie from saying whatever next she had planned and anger-management her way through the girl's sarcastic tone and elaboration.

This time, Newbie doesn't plan on stopping herself.

"Do they really listen to you? Maybe your wallet more? Or maybe you offer some weird sexual fantasies equal to dark fetishes of a sloppy divorced businessman in exchange for a rank level up." She moves a step towards Poppy, who doesn't back down yet, even if she probably wants to vomit at the already close proximity between the two of them. Bea continues pushing, "Maybe the possibility of you throwing a hissy fit when it doesn't go your way which results in somehow expelling innocent students and your so called friends, lingers in their mind every time they look at you, Tinkerbitch."

Poppy seems distraugh as she looks at the brunette hesitantly.

Struck a nerve.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Lumps." She says finally through gritted teeth, after finishing stabbing Newbie with a stiletto in her mind.

Bea decides to do the ultimate move and get up all in the other girl's face as she moves yet another step forward. Now she is standing in front of her, the edges and tips of their clothes almost touching. Their faces inches away as they share the same breath, making Poppy's worst nightmare come true. And Bea's reveling in the feeling.

"Did I struck I nerve? Because make no mistake, Legally Blonde. Every time you open your bitchy mouth to shit on someone for no reason at all except your own dissatisfaction and low self-esteem, you take one step closer to everyone seeing that you are actually pathetic."

Bea doesn't smirk or smile this time after ending her sentence. She gazes down at the girl in front of her with a more sad kind of look. It's pity and Poppy can smell it, making her lower lip tremble in rage.

It takes all of mother nature's willpower and strength not the end the pig girl right in that moment, to take her by her disgusting lice infested curly brown hair and completely destroy her in the academy's meticulously clean bathroom. What a sad death that would be though. For the bathroom's tiles surface, not for the pigsty standing in front of her.

"First of all, your hideous sneakers are provoking me." She composes herself after snapping out of her thoughts, but doesn't back away, "Second, your mustache is thicker than Borat's", she throws a glance at the taller girl' lips and lingers a bit longer than intended before quickly looking up at Bea's eyes again, "so you might want to do something about that." She smiles proudly, thinking of how spot on that reference was on and Bea rolls her eyes at that.

"And third," the blonde continues, "you fucking rustic scarecrow, ship yourself back to Losertown or whatever sad country you came from. You don't know me and you don't know what you're talking about."

Bea doesn't say anything at that. Poppy celebrates her victory.

The taller girl stays mute as she just looks at her curiously for a bit, which unsettles Poppy as her stomach drops a little. Any kind. Then Bea does something that probably almost no one at Belvoire Academy dared to. She glances at the blonde strand of hair on Poppy's forehead that moved there while she was going all berserk with her speech. She casually grabs it between her fingers and softly tucks it behind the blonde's ear.

Poppy blushes uncontrollably at the action as they lock their gaze once again.

"Let me write you a reality check, Ritchy Bitch. Your two apostles? They don't give a fuck about you. Honestly, no one at this academy does." She ends it with a shrug and Poppy hisses, "You don't fucking know anything, you filthy skank." She almost spits at the brunette in front of her, boiling with frustration.

"Do you really think the foundation of a relationship is based on fear and disrespect? How fucking dense can you be?"

"I don't give a fuck about your free lessons on ho-" A hand covers her mouth suddenly which startles Poppy, but keeps her in her place as intended. Dark brown eyes appear even more closer than they were before, as Bea's face was inches apart from the blonde's own.

"I'm talking, shut up." Bea orders and Poppy complies.

—— —— —— —— ——

tagging people that wanted to be tagged and shamelessly tagging those who i think might enjoy this fic:

@uhh-the-green-thing @origmansello​ @ save-me-the-last-dance @ ognenniyvolk @ imdreamingof-you @ nias-missellarious @ uselesslesbianfr @ jkeiontheworks  @somewillwin @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @captain-hanadeleine @simpforpoppy @poppysmc

also happy queen b day!

[sophiainspace]

A Legends fic for Autistic Pride Day (Mick Rory & Sara Lance)

This grew beyond a ficlet (it’s 2k words), which is why it’s a day late for Autistic Pride Day. Hope you enjoy. (Canon-wise, this fic ignores the fact that Sara’s been abducted by aliens, because I couldn’t find any way around that.) I’ll probably put it on AO3 as its own fic. Enjoy.

A Place at the Table

That Saturday morning, Sara is awoken by a crash, over a yell that might be a Fuck!

“Gideon,” Sara hisses, trying not to wake Ava. “What was that?”

“That was Mick Rory, dropping a box of eggs in the galley, Captain,” Gideon replies, just as quietly. 

Sara lets her head drop back against the headboard. “Of course it was.”

Beside her, Ava opens sleepy eyes. “He was fine yesterday,” she murmurs, yawning. “Want me to go and check on him?”

Sara shakes her head. “Thanks, babe. I got this.”

She can hear Mick’s muttering even all the way down the hall. As she turns into the galley, there’s no sign of the broken eggs now. Mick’s standing at the stove, dumping a new batch into a frying pan.

“I see you’re really taking your frustration out on those shells, Mick.” She takes a step inside the galley. “Don’t blame the poor eggs for whatever the last ones did to hurt you.”

He pauses, mid-crack, to lift his eyes in her direction and grunt something unintelligible. Then he turns back to his frying pan. 

So. That went well.

Sara takes another cautious step closer. It’s not just eggs that Mick is working on. He’s got pancakes browning in another pan, bacon in a third. “Cooking for the crew?” she asks, aiming for cheerful.

He just shrugs. 

The sizzle of oil from multiple pans could be intentional, to deter anyone trying to get near him. It might take League of Assassins training to get past that armor, but Sara’s never been afraid of Mick or his posturing. She leans back against the counter, trying to catch his eye. Figuring out how to deal with their resident pyromanic has been a five-year mission all its own, one that Sara regrets she didn’t take more seriously at the beginning. 

She’s not sure when it happened — but at some point during the past few years, Mick Rory became the glue that held this messy, broken family together. It took a lot longer for Sara to begin to understand what’s going on beneath his calloused surface, but she’s getting there. Usually, he’s cheerful when he cooks, or at least as close as Mick Rory gets. Right now he’s slumped over the stove so sadly that it hurts to watch.

“Mick,” she says again.

He keeps right on frying, but he almost smiles. “Ain’t gonna give up, are ya?”

She grins, taking the light tone as permission to reach over and pat him on the shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Dunno,” he says. Then, so quietly that Sara isn’t sure she’s heard right, he adds, “No one’s gonna want this.”

She feels herself frown at him. Then at the pan of eggs. “What, the food?”

A pause, a single nod, and he’s back to frying. 

“Sure they will,” Sara says. “Who doesn’t like eggs and pancakes?”

Dumping a pancake out of the other pan, Mick scowls. “Was making these the way Haircut likes ‘em. I forgot.”

She looks back down at the stack of pancakes. They are indeed done Ray Palmer-style, so light they’ll be almost raw inside. She remembers passing on a few of those pancakes over the years, while Ray cheerfully finished the lot. 

Sara is learning how to push past the solid walls Mick builds to keep out a confusing, dangerous world. But even with his family around him, people he can trust, he doesn’t always know how to unlock the doors of his own personal prison and let himself out. It can take time. She tries to give it to him, that Saturday morning. She sinks into the distant sound of Zari, Behrad and Nate waiting for the bathroom, just being the disaster Legends they are, at their usual volume. And waits for Mick to talk.

“They’re all gone,” Mick says, at last. Somewhere beneath his low rumble, he almost sounds forlorn.

Down the hall, a fight is breaking out over whose turn is next. Grimacing, Sara nods her head towards the door. “Doesn’t sound like it to me.” 

Mick shrugs. “Not the same.”

He means it’s not the same team, she realizes, and suddenly it all falls into place. Her heart breaks a little for him. 

Leonard Snart told her once, a long time ago, that Mick wasn’t good with change. It was something of an understatement. There’s been a lot of reconfiguring of their chaotic little family recently — new people, messy renegotiations of dynamics — but she thought Mick was doing okay with it. After Charlie left, he shut himself away in his room for a couple of days, but then he seemed to get over it.

If Ray Palmer was here, she’d make him lead some team building exercises, if only so Mick could roll his eyes and complain about them. But he’s not here, and that’s the problem.

Mick glares harder at the pan. “All the weird ones have gone.” 

Sara tries not to laugh at that. If anything, the team’s only getting weirder by the day. But Mick seems to need her to listen, so she doesn’t interrupt.

He dumps the last of the food out of the pan, grabs the full plates and strides to the table. Sara follows him, ready to offer to help, but Mick just pauses at the table.

He moves slowly around its curve. “Zari,” he says, as he reaches the first empty chair, staring hard at it. Now that they’ve got their memories back, grieving the first Zari has been complicated for all them, knowing she isn’t really gone. Sometimes Sara passes the other Zari in the hallway, and she gets a bright flash of memory, checked shirts and donuts and sarcasm, clashing hard with the reality of her smiling friend. One more ghost haunting the halls of the Waverider, trailing after her flesh-and-blood counterpart. But Sara doesn’t think she’s heard Mick mention Zari Tomaz yet. She watches as he puts the piled-high plate of eggs down in front of the empty seat. He says, “Over easy with hot sauce on the side,” and frowns. “Hot sauce meant it didn’t remind her of home.”

Sara remembers, now that she can remember. The old Zari had eaten alone for weeks, after she first came onboard. Till Mick had started making her breakfast, working through a dozen new ways to serve it. Zari settled on eggs done in a way that worked for her, and that was how she ate them for the rest of her time on the Waverider. The term PTSD might not have been one either she or Mick would ever have said out loud, but he could relate enough to meet her on their common ground -- food.

Mick moves to the next chair, putting down the stack of pancakes. “Haircut.” He taps the back of the chair. All this talking from Mick Rory is such a rare event, especially when he’s upset, that Sara doesn’t interrupt. “He’d be freaking out now. Saying I didn’t get the pancakes right, or I should’ve set a timer so the eggs were done at the same time.” He glares at the chair. “Like he thought he was the only autistic person on this fucking ship.” 

Sara tries not to laugh, and fails. She takes Mick’s very mild glare as a sign that it’s okay to answer now. “You miss him. And Zari.” The most obviously neurodivergent members of the team. She’s starting to see the pattern. 

But the ship is still full of neurodivergent Legends. If Mick’s feeling alone… Well, he shouldn’t be.

But she thinks she’s catching on. She steps one seat ahead of Mick, placing a hand on the back of it. “Dr. Nate Heywood,” she says. “He’s got ADHD, remember? Hard to forget, when he’s playing that awful music at full blast anytime he can’t concentrate, till my brain starts dripping out of my ears.” She drops into to a conspiratorial tone. “I found him in the cargo bay having a meltdown last week. Don’t tell him I told you.” She moves on the next seat, running a thoughtful hand over it. “John. I doubt he has a diagnosis, but he depths that man can sink to—” and she points an accusing finger at Mick— “more than rival yours.”

“Warlock’s an asshole,” Mick protests, but he’s frowning at the seat like he’s thinking about it.

“And you know the ones who aren’t here right now are still Legends, don’t you?” She taps the back of another seat. “Mona Wu, dyslexic writer and all round excellent person.” She meets Mick’s eye. “You know, even though she loves reading, I don’t think she would ever have had the confidence to write if you hadn’t encouraged her.” Mick huffs, but his face softens at the mention of his friend. 

Sara’s almost run out of seats, now, so she starts a second round of the table. “Nora Darhk—still a Legend, just like Ray, whether or not they’re here right now—and I never met a more courageous survivor, diagnosis or not.” 

And then she takes a risk, and one more step. With her hand on the back of a chair that wasn’t even here back then, in a galley that the man himself would not have recognized, she says “Leonard Snart.” She meets Mick’s dangerous don’t go there glare and holds his gaze. “I don’t know what his deal was—you’d know better than me—but he wasn’t exactly neurotypical.”

With thoughtful eyes, Mick just looks at her. Walls crumbling.

Taking advantage of the silence, Sara walks all around the table, till she’s close enough to touch Mick, and lays a hand on his arm. “Mick Rory.” At his wide-eyed stare, she says, “It hasn’t totally slipped my notice, Mick. It’s my job to know what’s going on on this ship, and you and I have been here a long time.” 

She’s seen him grow so much in that time. She wasn’t fond of the reluctant Rogue who wanted out of Rip’s mission, and when he turned brutal bounty hunter, she thought he’d never come back from it. He did, and it was the first time he surprised her. Once he finally made it past the fallout from that, she watched him grow to become even more. Totem bearer. Unlikely friend to all of them, even the most hopeless strays among the Legends. Her right hand man on the bridge, often enough, as much as he pretends he doesn’t want to be there. Watching him this year, with Lita, he’s made her as proud as any of her family could. It’s been a long five years. The two of them, on board the longest, have watched each other travel the furthest.

“Autistic,” Mick finally replies to her not-quite-question, in a mutter, eyes dropping like he’s ashamed of it.

Sara rubs his arm. She doubts that’s anywhere near the whole story, but maybe saying that chapter out loud helps. She hopes so. “I know some of the people who’ve gone...” She grins, and finishes, “...were the other freaks on this ship who reminded you of you.” She sees his lips twitch, still refusing to smile. “But, one way or another, they’re still here, Mick. And, trust me, there are people on this team who still get you.” 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, to the floor.

And she takes one last risk. Places a hand on her chest. “Sara Lance,” she says, as she looks back up at her friend’s surprised blink. She hangs onto the chair beside her as she forces herself to voice all the things she doesn’t like to say out loud, if she can help it. “Bipolar since I was eighteen. A shipload of PTSD, and the way my life will always be entwined with death doesn’t exactly help.” She sighs, refusing to let that ever-present darkness blot out her light again. “Every time I think I’ve got past that, it just catches up with me.” She feels a hand squeezing her own where it’s still on Mick’s arm, and she blinks something out of her eye, making herself carry on. “First the bloodlust, then Death Witch, and then all that shit with the Loom... All I ever see is death.”

“No,” he says firmly, and she looks up into determined eyes. “That ain’t all you are.”

It’s more of a confession of friendship than she ever gets from him, and she smiles. One more flame to light the way in the darkness. She can never have too many.

He gently pushes her hand from his arm, heading back towards the counter. “Come on. Got food to serve.” He piles a plate high with eggs and bacon, passing it Sara. “For Ava.”

She remembers something, and grins. “I didn’t even hear her come in last night. What were you two watching?”

“American Horror Story. Till three in the morning,” he replies, clearly proud he can keep Ava up that late. He looks at the plate, then sticks another egg on it. “Get her a coffee.”

Sara just smiles. Mick doesn’t mention his odd friendship with Ava very much, but it makes Sara happy.

And she looks at Mick, busy at the stove, and finds herself hoping it makes him happy too. She hopes all his weird little connections across this weird little family make him feel less alone in the wide, overwhelming world that could never make room for someone like him. She hopes he knows there’ll always be a place for him around the Legends’ table.

She hopes she can remember the same for herself.

“You just gonna stand there, or you gonna help?” he asks. “I gotta feed Nate, Behrad and Zari here. It’s gonna take all week.”

Sara laughs, taking another plate to the table as Mick grabs the flour and starts making up another batch of pancake batter.

They’re going to need more eggs.

[yusuke-of-valla]

like rats fleeing a sinking ship, pt. 3

intermission i

A/N: “intermission,” basically just means I couldn’t get a Whumptober prompt in there.

TW: mentions of being shot

<-Previous Next->

AO3

After a bit of arguing, Akira gives his bag to Haru with Morgana inside it, and takes Akechi with him to Crossroads. If given the choice, Akira would have preferred leaving Akechi at Takemi’s apartment to rest, but over the last three days since the notice for the Phantom Thieves’ arrest went out, Akechi has proven that he will refuse to sit still even if it’s for his own health, so he’s coming with Akira.

Akira lets Akechi get a seat on the train and stands up, watching the people on the train mutter amongst themselves. The news bulletin is giving updates about the “dangerous thieves at large.”

“...my aunt had a change of heart before she collapsed...”

“I heard they’ve given mental shutdowns to children too...”

“...put her name on the PhanSite. I hope Shido catches those thieves before something happens to her. She may be a bitch but I don’t want her to die.”

“So quick to turn on their supposed heroes,” Akechi mutters.

Akira hums.

Crossroads is empty when they arrive, save for Ohya and Lala, as usual.

When the door opens, Ohya perks up, her eyes going from Akira, then quickly settling on Akechi. “What’s he doing here?”

“He’s on our side,” Akira says. “Shido doesn’t like him either.”

“Sweet. The enemy of my enemy and all that.”

“I suppose you boys aren’t here for a social visit?” Lala asks, pouring them each a glass of water.

“I’d really like this to be, but we can’t.”

Ohya sits up. “Right. It’s not great.”

“Sources don’t have a lot of info?”

“It’s not that. The ones I can get in touch with are happy to talk about how their search for the Phantom Thieves won’t rest until they’re dealt with and explaining some of their procedures like setting up checkpoints in and out of the city. They’re also teaming up with some tech company to monitor phones and texts.”

“Lovely,” Akechi says, “things we could’ve already deduced. Do you have anything that isn’t coming from propagandists?”

“You can tell a lot from what people don’t say as much as what they do. They’re talking a big game, but only have Sakura-san’s arrest to back it up so it’s safe to say they haven’t gotten anyone else. They’re focused on the major areas, the subway, Central Street. Stuff like that. And they’re being flooded with tips, so even though people are happy to turn you in, they also don’t have time to go over everything.”

“So the mob’s working against them,” Akira says.

“Right,” Ohya winks. Then she gives Akechi a pointed look. “And I still have some inside info. Like apparently Shido’s been fighting with this one government agency for awhile now, blocking funding and access for them. They’re called the “Shadow Ops,” and Shido is putting a lot of effort into getting them out of the way.”

“And how is that helpful to us now?" Goro asks.

“Enemy of my enemy,” Akira suggests.

“Well if we can figure out how to get in touch with them that’ll be fine, but it’s still more trouble than it’s worth.”

“What is your problem?" Akira snaps.

“My problem is we’re wasting time! You’re supposed to be the leader yet you can’t conceive of the bigger picture.”

“Akechi you’ve been shot.”

“Stop pretending you’re holding back for my sake,” Akechi says, rolling his eyes. “We could go into the Metaverse right now and get this healed. You just can’t do anything without your ragtag bunch of misfits around to sing your praises.”

“Then why don’t you go.” Akira asks. “Why haven’t you left? Is it because after we played you like a damn fiddle and you were betrayed by your boss you realized you might not be as strong or as clever as you thought?”

Akechi crosses his arms and glares at Akira. “Fine. You’ve got me. I don’t think I can take Shido on my own. I could use your help. Yours. But the others are superfluous, we don’t need them.”

“The others have saved my life on more than one occasion, and they’ve saved yours before too. One week, and we go in and fight like hell, but since you need me and you kinda owe me for that little ‘attempted murder incident’, we’re doing it on my terms when we’ve found as many members of my team as we can.”

“Does the thought cross your mind that gathering them all in one place might just be putting them in more danger?”

“I have to know they’re safe.”

They stare daggers at each other.

Akechi gives in first, getting up with a huff. “If you have any useful information, Ohya-san then please let me know. Until then I’ll be waiting outside.” He strides out the door, and lets it slam shut behind him.

“I’m sorry about that,” Akira says to Ohya and Lala, who he’s just realized heard that entire conversation.

“No problem. You okay, kid?”

“I’m fine. Any other news?”

“Not really. I can tell you that the police have the big public areas covered, but I doubt you’ll be going to any concerts any time soon.”

“Nah. But seriously thank you, this’ll help us plan our movements.”

“Stop by tomorrow, I’ll see if I have anything new for you.”

“Actually, do you mind if one of my friends does it? She’s closer at the moment.”

“Sure, just tell me what to look for.”

Akira gives Haru’s description, thanks Lala again, then heads out.

“Are we done?” Akechi asks.

“One more stop in Shinjuku.” Akira leads Akechi a few blocks down to Chihaya’s booth.

“Akira! It’s good to see you!” Chihaya says.

“Hey Chihaya. We’re here for a reading.”

“Do you know everyone in this city?” Akechi mutters.

Chihaya lays out the cards in front of them. “Do you need a specific reading?”

“Can you give me a reading that’ll tell me where my friends are?”

“I’ll do my best!” Chihaya says. She flips the cards over one by one, and there’s a familiar sensation like something snapping. Even Akechi seems caught off guard by it. Chihaya looks at the spread and frowns. “Hesitation will be your undoing, but don’t be reckless. And I’m not sure about the nine of swords, something to do with Gemini?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Akira sees the way Akechi’s eyes widen at that, then he quickly cools his expression again.

“That’s all I can see,” Chihaya says.

“Thank you.” Akira says, getting up.

Akechi walks back towards the train station quickly, and Akira trails behind. He pauses at the sight of a familiar blue prison door.

“Hey inmate!” Caroline says. “You wanna go in?”

Akira considers it, but shakes his head. He doesn’t want to see Igor right now. “Hey, Caroline, how much do you know about stuff that’s going on. You obviously know more than I do.”

“Well duh! How’re we supposed to help with your rehabilitation if we’re as clueless as you?”

“Then do you know where my friends are?”

Caroline’s grin fades. “W-we couldn’t tell you that even if we did know!”

“Alright, thanks.”

“What are you waiting for?” Akechi calls.

Akira waves at Caroline, and runs to catch up with Akechi.

~_~_~_~

After parting ways with Akira and Akechi, Haru at least takes a little joy in the familiar weight of Morgana in her bag. When they arrive in Aoyama-Itchome, Haru hangs back in an alleyway as Morgana pops his head out of the bag.

“Alright, wait until there aren’t as many students leaving, then slip around the back way there.” Morgana says, helping Haru slip in the same way Akira had been getting up to the roof to meet her while he’s presumed dead.

Her first stop is her vegetable garden. Despite everything, her babies have been growing pretty well.

“It’s too bad we can’t bring the whole thing,” she says picking the tomatoes and pulling up the carrots.

“We can see about starting a garden at Takemi’s,” Morgana offers. “There’s one windowsill that gets a lot of really nice sunlight, even in the winter. I like to take naps there, but I’m willing to give it up for your vegetables.”

“Aw, thank you Mona-chan,” Haru gives him a pat on the head before bagging up the rest of her vegetables. “You’re up next.”

Haru slips out the back and heads back to the alley, watching the school until Morgana comes out, Kawakami trailing behind him.

“Hey, slow down kitty, I’,- Okumura?” Kawakami stares at Haru taking in her new hair and clothes. “So that is Kurusu’s cat?”

Haru smiles and picks Morgana up, helping him back into the bag. “Yeah, he’s a very smart little guy.”

“So does that mean Kurusu’s alright, at least?”

“Yes. But we still need to find the others.”

“Any way I can help?”

“Do you have Shiho Suzui’s address?”

Kawakami’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, then she seems to understand. “Oh yes, I suppose that makes sense. I should be able to get it. Hold on.”

Kawakami walks back into the school, and ten minutes later comes out with a sheet of paper. One has an address on it, the other has a phone number.

“Here you go. And if you need anything, give that number a call and ask for Becky. I’ll know it’s you and be right over.”

“I can’t ask you to get more involved in this,” Haru says.

Kawakami laughs. “I’m already neck deep in the Phantom Thieves business. You’ve helped me and so many others, and more importantly, you’re my students. It’s my job to make sure you’re all safe.”

Haru holds the sheet of paper to her chest. “Thank you. Your support means more than you know.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

Haru grabs a tourist map from the train station and follows the address Kawakami gave them. The Suzui residence is a nice small house near one of the smaller parks.

“Ready to go Haru?”

“Yep.”

Haru knocks on the door, and a middle aged man opens it. “Hello, who are you?”

“I’m here to return your cat!” Haru says, holding Morgana up to the man’s face.

“We don’t ha-” Morgana leaps out of Haru’s arms and runs into the house.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Haru says.

The man curses. “Stay here,” he says, running after Morgana.

There are more voices, and then…

“Morgana?”

“Lady Ann! So you are here!”

“Ann!” Haru calls, running in the direction of the voices. She finds an open door leading downstairs, and the man from earlier is there, along with Ann, Morgana, and a girl who must be Suzui, who immediately steps in front of Ann protectively.

“Who are you,” Suzui demands.

“Shiho! It’s fine, this is Haru,” Ann says, “she’s part of the team.”

“Haru Okumura?” the man— Suzui’s father, probably— asks.

“Yes, we’re so sorry for the disturbance,” Haru says.

Mr. Suzui waves her off, and then pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, I guess. Would you like some tea Okumura-san? You and Ann probably have a lot to catch up on.”

“That’d be great, thanks!” Ann says. Haru nods as well, and Mr. Suzui heads back upstairs. Once he’s gone, Shiho shuts the door and Ann gives Haru a hug. “Good to see you! I thought you booked it for the countryside!”

“A little misdirection on my part. It’s a bit of a story.”

“We have so much to tell you!” Morgana says.

“I’m sure.” Ann says, picking him up.

“So, I’m guessing this is the famous Morgana?” Suzui asks.

Morgana perks up. “Oh? You told her about me?”

“How could I not,” Ann laughs, “I mean you’re kinda important to the whole story.”

“I’m important!”

“Wow, you can really understand him?” Suzui asks, stepping closer.

Haru nods. “Yes. How much has Ann told you?”

“Everything, pretty much,” Ann says. She and Suzui share a look, before Suzui pulls up some bean bag chairs.

“C’mon, sit. I’m sure things must have been crazy for you guys.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Haru laughs. “But do you want to tell your story first?”

Ann nods.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 78

Okay, I checked. This is actually chapter 78 :)

Thank you, again, to @zommbiebro for the name of the colony. This will be way more important than people realize.

As runners-up, @baelpenrose and @iguessthisisme, thank you for the names of Else’s new habitats. While the reason isn’t given (you are free to mention them in the comments), they did rank as the runners-up.

I made an appointment with Miys to continue our talk about other species next week and sent messages requesting a small meeting in my office.  When I arrived, Alistair already had everyone seated and was handing out drinks. Dropping into a chair, I grabbed the one Tyche passed me and took a deep sip, narrowly avoiding a sputter when I realized my coffee had at least one shot of whiskey in it.  “Geez and fuck, Worthington, what are you trying to do to me?”

Taking the cup from me, he inhaled deeply before apologizing. “It was meant to be coffee with Irish crème, not Irish coffee.”

“Whatever, give it back.” Pinching the bridge of my nose to avoid the looks I was inevitably getting, I made a blind grabbing gesture with the other.  “By the time this conversation is over, I may need this to be sans coffee.”  I inhaled deeply before looking up.  “We have a problem on the Ark.”

“That’s nothing new,” Tyche pointed out.  Beside her, Antoine gave a regretful look of agreement along with an eloquent shrug.

Groaning, I arched an eyebrow at Arthur Farro, who sat across from Tyche, on my other side. “You see how often this kind of shit happens?”  With that, I launched into what happened in the corridor with Miys, specifically the crowd of people plowing into us. When I finished, I held up a hand to stop the outpour of questions from Farro and focused on Antoine. “Can the update to receive proximity alarms be disabled?”

“In theory, yes,” he answered hesitantly.  “But I’m uncertain if the entire implant would have to be disabled in order to do so.”

“Our hosts should be able to tell us if the implants can be turned off,” Alistair pointed out.

“Mmmmm… you would think so.  But I asked, and apparently they didn’t even think we would be able to understand any of their technology, much less futz around with it on the scale needed to create the proximity alerts in the first place,” I explained.

Tyche nodded firmly. “That means we use our secret weapons.”

“Derek?” The question came from our resident former-warlord, who was still not used to our shorthand.

“And Zach to run herd on him,” I confirmed.  “If we can determine whether it’s just the update or the entire implant that’s disabled, Derek can turn the right thing back on and lock user privileges down so they can’t be messed with again.”

Raising one hand for attention, Antoine ventured a point. “Are we - is the Council - okay with the ethics behind forcing people to use the translation implants?”

My head dropped heavily onto the tabletop. I hadn’t even thought about that, but he had a point.

“We can argue ethics later,” Tyche interjected. “First, we have Zach and Derek determine what part of it isn’t working.  If it’s the update, there isn’t anything to worry about, since the Council already agreed that it was in the best interest of the ship as a whole to make the receiver software compulsory.”

Thank you, little sister. When I lifted my head after a silent prayer, I saw Farro giving Tyche an evaluating glance before turning to me. “So. Were these the same people you two mentioned at the dinner?”

“I think so.” Opening my datapad, I pulled up the questions he sent me. “So, on that note, since that’s why you’re here…. ‘How large are the groups?’ I would say three to seven people.” I tipped my hand back and forth in a vague gesture.

Tyche nodded. “I tend to watch my data pad as I walk but the groups aren’t too big. Five-ish? Sometimes more sometimes less? Not suspiciously big though, that I can say for sure.” She opened her own copy and tackled the next question. “Any frequent meetings...The clusters seem to be everywhere, but it's the whispering and watching that make me uncomfortable. I'm face-blind, though, so I couldn't tell you if these are the same groups.

“To be honest, meetings happen all the time on the Ark.  Granted, there are generally fewer after the misunderstanding with Else - “ Alistair scoffed so hard I was worried for his sinuses, but I ignored him and plowed on. “but I would definitely say nothing overt enough to stand out.”

Before I could reference the next question, Farro pre-empted me. “Have you noticed people from these smaller groups interacting with each other? Or groups combining, mixing?”

I had to roll my eyes that one. “Dude.  It’s literally my job to get people to interact, so the only answer you’re getting to that one is ‘all the damned time’.”

He turned to Tyche, eyes hopeful. She just gave him a smirk. “What do you get when you mix an elephant and a rhino?”  When he looked perplexed at her non sequitur, she leaned forward. “Ellephino. Faceblind, remember?”

Scowling, he shook his head. “You handle staffing… how the hell do you do your job?”

"I do it damned well, if I do say so myself," she waved off his complaint. "Which I do. Voices, body language, key accessories... Been doing it my whole life."

“Fair,” he shrugged, seemingly satisfied. “Sophia, have you noticed if it’s always the same people who are clustered up?”

I couldn’t stop the groan that question elicited. “Arthur. There are over nine thousand people on this ship. It would be nearly impossible to be sure.”

He grumbled something about ‘no self preservation’ and ‘what happened to proper paranoia’ before asking the last question. “Please tell me someone at least noticed if they got noticeably quieter when any outsiders came near them?”

My sister and I exchanged glances before I responded. “Eyeah. Kind of why they stand out.”

How did Farro avoid getting dizzy when he rolled his eyes that hard?

Antoine cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. Leaning forward in his seat, he ran a tired hand through his hair. “Tyche mentioned these groups to me a few days ago. I’ve been keeping an eye out and while they aren’t the same groups, there are the same people with new groups, sometimes two at a time in the larger gatherings. Much like a very hushed spreading of word about….something. I have no idea what of course. I’m usually on my way to either medical or a client.”

“Wait,” I held my hand up for a moment. “Same people with new groups? What do you mean? Like, intermingling groups of these people?”

“Think of a social butterfly, but more secretive. There are some I recognize from other groups, but surrounded by different faces. Mingling but spookier.”

Tyche nearly choked on her drink. “You’ve been around me too much. ‘Mingling but spookier.’”

“At least someone noticed something useful,” Farro grumbled.

“Hey!” I complained. “I get that you’ve got a theory, but you don’t have to be rude.” I scowled at him.

Okay, maybe I pouted.

After a moment of deadlock, I took a drink of my coffee and arched a brow at him. “You know. If you told us what exactly your theory was, this would go a lot better. I get that you’re used to working on your own, but you’re asking questions that are leaning into things we aren’t going to notice.  It’s like… asking a vet if they’ve noticed any fleas lately.  Even if they don’t just ignore them outright, it’s nothing remarkable.”

“A cult,” he admitted, sitting back and taking a drink of his tea, only to glare at it like it betrayed him.  Getting up, he went to dispose of it and asked the console for a hot, fresh cup. “People suddenly acting weird, closing off others unless they make the first move? Cult, all day long.”

“That’s pretty overt for a cult though. Most of the time, it’s hard to tell when someone is part of one. They were surprisingly common back Before,” Tyche immediately interjected, having suddenly gone eerily serious. “I’ve known former members. They creep in.”

“Not that overt,” he pointed out. “Scientology.”

“A fake religious movement, that if not for a certain celebrity wouldn’t have gotten so much attention.”

“Oh, completely fake. Not even the founder believed the bullshit he was slinging,” Farro agreed. “But, it was also a very overt, definitive cult.” He started counting on his fingers. “There’s also Jonestown and the Manson family, as far as cults that withdrew from society, although the somewhat limited space of the Ark makes it easier to just get quiet instead of trying to isolate.…” he trailed off before seeming to snap out of his thoughts. 

Tyche groaned at the point. “And the non-religious ones, such as multi-level marketing and pyramid schemes.”

“Of which there were several in the latter half of the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries,” I pointed out. “Very famous and popular ones, actually.  So.  Being overt doesn’t mean this couldn’t be a cult.” My stomach twisted at the idea of something like that forming in the midst of our chance to be everything good we had the potential for.  It felt like someone doused the Mona Lisa with acetone.

“To be fair, it could also be a more harmless, mysticism based situation like the legionary sect of Mithras in ancient Rome, so we don’t necessarily need to assume the worst - just plan for it, in case.”

“If we concede that this could be a cult,” Alistair volunteered, “I feel it would be wise to discuss the matter with Councillor Hodenson.”  Deafening silence followed his statement, broken only when he squinted at our group in confusion. “Grey Hodenson? The Councillor for Research and Sciences? Who was raised in a cult?” Another emphatic squint before he sighed and threw his hands up.  “Unbelievable.  For a group of supposed geniuses, you all show a breathtaking capacity to overthink things.”

“I believe we should also include Councilor Kalloe,” Antoine advised. “As the Councillor for Health and Safety, it is imperative that she is kept abreast of the situation, even if it is unfounded.”

“It would also give us a stronger likelihood of a majority in the Council if it came to a vote,” Tyche confessed. “We’d already have three out of six, would just have to convince one more.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I groaned.  “But yeah, subject tabelled for now, until we can reconvene.” I forced myself to sit up straighter. “Now, enough bad news.  Tyche, Antoine, someone, give me some good news.”

Antoine spoke first. “The portion of Else that is not in coldsleep is adapting well to its new habitats.  It is quite pleased with the compromise, and reports excitement at the opportunity to speak to more humans.”

My eyebrow arched before I could stop myself. “Do I even want to know why that is in your purview?”

“Therapy is therapy,” he shrugged eloquently. “Adjusting to new environments is stressful for all living creatures, even those not known to be sentient.”

Alistair added, “Additionally, a nebula has been located that is determined to be sufficiently large and ferrous enough for Else to colonize.  They have determined to name the nebula Esperia, to symbolize their origins with humanity and their hope for the future. When we locate a similarly suitable planet or planetoid, they have decided upon Redemption, or the equivalent in whatever language they have evolved by that point.”

“Wait,” Farro stopped my assistant. “You mean to tell me that a bacteria decided on a name for two colonies before we could decide on one?”

“Only by a breath,” I smirked, opening an alert on my datapad.  “Apparently the name for our new home was just approved by the Council. Good news indeed.”

Several seconds of silence followed as everyone stared at me intently, with Tyche and Alistair pointedly ignoring the similar updates they had just received. Finally, my sister broke. “Are you going to share, oh mighty Councillor, or does everyone have to wait for me to leave and spill the details?”

Laughing, I gestured my concession.  “The name that was agreed upon, by a five to one majority within the Council, is Von. ‘In Norse religion, Ragnarok is the end of the world, followed by a period of rebirth and renewed hope.  Our world has already ended, this we agree upon to point that we have all simply named the chain of events Before, The End, and After.  The new colony will be our renewed hope, our opportunity to be reborn as a better people.  In that spirit, I put forth the name Von, which simply means hope or expectation in Icelandic.  Nothing could be more fitting for our new home, after our own Ragnarok’.”

Heads nodded in agreement. “That’s a good name,” Alistair admitted. “Not my suggestion, but still good.”

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[dyketectivecomics]

The Legends Playing Among Us IRL (set-up first):

So Gideon, Constantine, Zari & Ray all work together to set up magic “vents” at key points on the ship, add task-related minigames for crewmates to complete and set automatic silencing/unsilencing spells for gameplay and when someone reports a “body” (no Sara we’re not Actually killing each other. Pls don’t use any freaky assassin moves) or calls a meeting.

They use the game itself to help guide other guidelines ofc and try a couple rounds of playing with Two Imposters, but ultimately decide One is best after Ava and Sara wipe the floor with the rest of the team lmao

So to start each game they all draw a card from a pile that tells them whether they’re a crewmate or imposter ofc. Once they’ve got it down, the card doubles as their list of assigned tasks OR, as the hacking “device” they need to further sabotage the ship (it activates dormant minigames for others to complete) imposters can kill just by showing another player their card and everyone’s on an Honor System to Play Dead (& wear a sheet over their head if they’re gonna be a Ghost Completing Tasks aksjsk)

So now let’s go by Character & how they play!!! (I’m mostly including the crew from s3/4 bc thats the crew im most familiar w/ obvsly): 

(also under a cut bc this is LONG im SO SORRY)

When Sara is the Imposter she wins Every Time. It’s gotten to the point that if even ONE person suspects her, she’s getting Ejected that round. When she’s a crewmate, she’s trying to complete the tasks as quickly as possible and she’s trying to gain their trust back by talking frankly during meetings. She’s not a detective ofc, but she keeps things from blowing up too much haha, after awhile everyone figures out her Tell (she tries Not to kill Ava if she’s the imposter, so it’s a pretty good bet that it’s Not Sara if Ava is one of the bodies found)

Ray is too much of a sweetheart and loves his friends too much to kill them lmao. So when he’s the imposter he tries to win by sabotaging the ship. And surprisingly it works most of the time!! Zari’s usually the one to pick up on this Tell though and calls a meeting when she suspects Ray (who for the life of him can’t lie haha) when he’s a crew member he’s working super hard to complete his tasks, but still way too trusting of his other members. Usually one of the first picked off but also he doesn’t mind being a ghost

Mick is good at Imposter! And he enjoys watching everyone debate who it might be. His poker face is impeccable so anyone who asks why he’s being so quite this round is usually met with an “I’m always quiet” or “thinking about a plot point”. He sows just as much discontent when he isn’t the imposter too, BUT when it comes to the tasks, he really only likes two or three of the minigames, so he seeks them out first and will camp out in a room with his typewriter for the rest of the game. It’s an agreed upon rule that imposters can just put a sheet over his shoulders and let him keep writing away (& anyone who Reports his body is Obligated to open with “Mick died doing two of the things he loved, writing and drinking 😔”)

Jax loves being Imposter & throwing a wrench in everything that the rest of the team does lmao. He doesn’t play often with the group, but when he pops in on occasion, he and Zari talk shop on ways to improve both the game and the ship itself. As a crewmate he’s one of the first to complete his tasks and he likes to keep an eye on everyone else to try to figure out the imposter might be first. (Since he plays the actual game sometimes in his free time, he’s gotten really good at the strategies needed to win)

Nate is abt 50/50 as an imposter, but sometimes he can come up with Just Enough of a solid alibi to skate by. Likes to use the game to stretch some of those Detective Skills, he’s part of the reason they started implementing shorter discussion time limits. Not bc he Figures Things Out but bc he sometimes ends up going in circles too long lmao

Zari is rlly good at being Imposter! I mean she helped set up the game afterall haha. She’s very methodical abt balancing sabotage and kills and it got to a point that Gideon had to readjust some of the cooldown times for her. When she’s a crewmate she is RUSHING to complete tasks. She’s got a competitive streak! She wants to win! One of the few ones to remember to use the ‘Admin’ console to keep an eye on player movement to help deduce who the Imposter is.

Ava’s a good imposter, but like Ray she’s a bit more prone to sabotage than kills. Usually gets the win through the timer than by getting enough kills, but if she’s not paying attention to others around her, sometimes she’s been caught. as a crewmate she usually forgoes tasks for trailing people she suspects are imposters. this has gotten her ejected on more than one occasion haha

Bless his heart, but Gary is just really bad at the game. He accidentally vents directly in front of people and cant lie about it to save his life. He tries his best with the tasks but can only really get the hang of a few games, hes usually the first one picked off bc he’s never sure where to go first for his tasks, but he absolutely LOVES being a ghost & running around with that sheet. on more than one occasion he’s helped them win at the last second by simply completing tasks in time

Charlie’s good at being imposter, and maintains her cover usually by not adding much to the conversations in the first place. One of those “you can vent me next if (so-and-so) isnt the Imposter!” kinds of players if things get really desperate though haha. As a crewmate, will finish tasks at a pretty average pace, but also likes to wander around and sow seeds of doubt as to who’s Actually the imposter. loves to egg on pointing fingers and supporting absolutely WILD accusations.

Despite helping them with the set up, Constantine usually isn’t up for actual gameplay. But he comes around eventually! Doesnt play often, but often enough that he’s pretty good with being an Imposter, or even just getting pretty far as an imposter. As a crewmate he does his best, but he really shines when the team is together discussing who might be the imposter. He’s a con-man afterall! He knows when people arent being truthful or are acting suspisciously! So he’s a pretty big asset for when he’s playing as a crewmate (or for keeping everyone off his trail when he’s an imposter haha). Pronce to using the security cams to help trail people.

Similar to Constantine, Nora took some convincing to join the game, and she enjoys being an Imposter more than at being a crewmate. Tries to keep pretty quiet from round to round unless she’s 100% sure others are onto her or that she knows who IS the imposter. Can be prone to seeing a ‘body’ left behind and doing an about-face instead of reporting to avoid being accused of self-reporting (which is one of the more common accusations haha)

Mona isnt that GOOD at doing the imposter thing, but she does her best and she’s having fun and thats what really matters! As a crewmate she’s working hard at her tasks, but usually also ends up being one of the first ones killed :( she just gets really absorbed in the minigames lmao

Bonus: 

Wally may have only been part of the team for a Hot Second but hes part of the team and he’ll play too! Surprisingly only got Imposter Once, and he fared pretty well! (was caught about halfway through his kills though bc he ran a bit too fast around a corner & was accused of venting (they basically got a little lucky there haha). As a crewmate they have to remind him not to use his speed to breeze through the tasks or to figure out who the imposter is, but he’s usually good unless he starts to get a little too excited about Winning 

[asoulofatlantis]

Continue to answer the previous ask

Anonymous asked:

You always say that you are a shipper and that ships are very important to you. So lets talk about that. I ask you for your top 5 moments/scenes of each of the following trails ships: Estelle and Joshua. Rean and Alisa. Elie and Lloyd. Cedric and Shirley. Millium and Jusis. Swin and Nadia. And I want an explanation of why every of those scenes is in which place (but maybe try to make it short)

So once again, lets continue with Millium and Jusis

1. Millum gets resurrected CS4 Cold Steel 4 was hands down the game that awoke the most feelings in me (CS3 Ending aside...) and many of the emotional moments I experienced were connected to Millium and Jusis, but none of their scenes made me cry as much as when Millium was finally brought back to live. I loved how Jusis hesitated, because he was scared and how he gave a damn about anything or anyone else when she finally woke up and he went to hug her, basically crying. It was so wonderful ♥ 2. A not romantic romantic moment in the night of promises CS4 We have a brief moment in Mishelam with some of the boys that have gathered in CS4 in which they talk about the fact that the night of promises could be THE night (still laughing about the fact that it was Lloyd of all people who said it XD) and when people ask were Jusis is, he is obviously with Millium because it could be their last night together and while they (for multiple reasons) were, of course, keeping it PG6, they were still standing together at the most romantic spot Mishelam had to offer that night, looking at the sky and the light together. And despite Jusis denying any romantic background to that moment, there is no way in hell he didn't notice it too. This is, by the way, is also the place were Reans final bonding event plays out if you chose to have one, once again making sure you notice the importance of that spot. 3. Wait for me Hajimari Near the end of Hajimari, Jusis decided to save his “brother” and Millium had to stay behind, however, the way he told her to wait for him was absolutely adorable and those simple words did bring across so many things that, even tho it was a rather small moment, it still felt very important for the ship. I do believe we are finally past the sister-zoning with Jusis and that IS a damn big step. 4. Jusis inner Monologue CS3 The moment in dawned on me that Jusis in Millium were intended to be meant to be romantic was the moment in Cold Steel 3, when we see them reunite on screen, Millium-special-hug and cake included (XD) and Jusis sits next to Millium on the Sofa and suddenly has an inner monologue about how he doesn’t care that she is artificially created and all that and was looking at her so fondly while doing it. There was something really special about that moment. It gave the ship some footing that just wasn’t there in the previous games, even tho one can not deny that it was always hinted that Jusis and Millium would share some sort of special bond. 5. You know you want to (or something like that) CS2 If you bring Millium along in Cold Steel 2, when you reunite with Jusis after putting up with his bullshit, she tries to hug him but he is already very god at dodging her. However, Millium tells him that she she knows he knows he actually wants to hug her and later on even added something along the lines of that her arm would always be open for him or something. And although Jusis did not react to it much, it was absolutely adorable to see their dynamic being actually already this strong as early as the beginning of Cold Steel 2.

Honorable mentions: Their freaking link-event in Hajimari. Oh god. BEST LINK EVENT EVER! (And saying this as a Rean and Alisa Shipper says A LOT) I love it so much. When I played Hajimari with the Spreadsheet I put Jusis and Millium in my Team all the time just to get my hands on this link event all the freaking time ♥

Soooo... now we get to the fun part. Its time for Shirley and Cedric. Tho they do not have that many scenes together, so that will still be hard.

1. Making sure he is okay CS4 Watching the whole of CS4, Shirley and Cedrics relationship doesn’t really look like anything good at first glance. I knew how this would end, because I had seen the infamous “The wargod? You want to introduce me to him as your...” - scene and we all know why that sentence was put there. Seeing them together for the first time made my question which idiot fought hinting this ship was a good idea. However, after watching Cedrics final Diving Knight fight and everything involved in it, I absolutely changed my mind (Its Hopurai all over again in a weird way XD) and that is because the scenes surrounding it perfectly show how Shirley went from borderline insane to almost too calm in the span of less than two months, just to make sure Cedric is okay. The whole scene, her “Yeah, yeah”, when he gave his “I will win and all” - speech, her standing there smiling, while class 7 got Cedric out of his curse-stupor and jumping in when it was finally time to make him realise that he can’t blame this whole mess solely on the curse but has to accept his own faults and weaknesses, her giving him her power even tho she likely knew that he would lose and actually very likely wanted him to lose, Shirley sibling-zoning Cedric and finally ending up collapsed out of exhaustion on top of him, smiling contently. It all was just pure shipping-gold in a weirdly satisfying and eye-opening way. I love it ♥ 2. Show me just how far you’ve come Hajimari As a Shirley and Cedric shipper, one must love Cedrics special Episode in Hajmari. Because if you watch closely enough, the whole episode characters constantly point out the lengths Shirley is willing to go to get Cedric were he needed to be. Staring with the enhances Jaegers pointing out that she is much harsher in the way she trains him, then she is with anyone else, her dealing with the shady Ouroboros Professor to get Cedric the Archaiism he needs as a support, that only work tho if he knows what to do with it, the Red Constellation pointing out that Cedirc is worth being under Shirleys watch (basically establishing them respecting him and the time Shirley put into his training) and Gareth immediately wanting to jump in when it looked like Gilbert was about to hurt Cedric. All that was supposed to show his worth to Shirley in one way or another, while it also showed that she knew him well enough to know that his doubts could be swayed by this kind of survival training - it could have killed him, but she knew he could handle it. Also, the way she looked at him when she finally told him to show her how far he has come in the fight against Gilbert. It was just... subtle shipping-hints everywhere and I enjoyed it far more than I ever expected. 3. Ouch, he is going to sulk on that one for weeks CS4 Aside from the fact that it looked like Shirley was looking at him on the screen (possibly an indication she was standing next to him, but we could argue about the whole “looking in someone's direction on the large screens makes no sense” for hours, without fully getting it, so lets leave that topic aside), there was not much interaction between Shirley and Cedric at the attack on the pantagruel, however... when Cedric leaves after getting scolded by Osborne and Rufus, Shirley indicates (among other things that are indicated by that sole line alone) that she will be by his side, with her “Ouch, he is going to sulk on that one for weeks” as it basically says that she is the one who is going to deal with his sulking or why would she care otherwise? This was one of those moments that are a thing with Shirleys and Cedrics ships. Subtle offhand commands that don’t really seem important usually give us some informations about those two and their relationship. 4. Princeyboy CS4 The Orlando-Family has a tendency to give nicknames, especially to people they find cute or have a special relationship to. And they do not care about pride or anything. After all, Shirleys nickname for Randolph, is Doplhy, despite the fact that he once was called the freaking red reaper. In any case, I said it before, that Shirley calling Cedric Princeyboy is actually a mockery. However, the fact that she did give him a nickname, still indicates a special role he has in her life. And I honestly loved it a lot to hear her say it XD In Hajimari, as far as the Spreadsheet goes, she stopped calling him Princeyboy and I can tell you, that I will totally miss it and hope that every now and then she will still use that one for mockery or when she feels playful around him. I don’t know why but despite the obvious mockery behind it (after all, its not just her mocking his title, she also calls him a “boy” for a reason that is likely his lack of maturity and maybe also because of the babyface XD) I also find it somehow cute. In any case, it does mark him as special for her and that makes it good enough for me as a shipper who has to deal with such a “read between the lines” ship as them. 5. Not my type CS3 And while we are at it, the moment at the end of CS3 where Shirley points out, totally out of nowhere, that Cedric is not her type and which, funny enough, is the scene that started that ship, still holds a special place in my heart. It was just so... out of place back then. When she said that I was literally like: “And you have the need to mention that now why exactly?” She said it out loud. No inner monologue or anything, like she needed to convince herself of it. Much later, at the end of CS4, it finally made sense. It finally was revealed that this was THE MOMENT where she decided she needed to make sure he is okay, because she noticed that something was off with him. It will probably always be a special moment for me, because of were it lead to.

(That was actually hard, you know. I hope they really do come back in Kuro 3 and have at least some shippy stuff to do, so that the list can get a bit more interesting ^^’)

And now... the most important of them all. Its finally Reans and Alisas turn. For them we have a whole list of scenes and moments to decide from.

1. The Reunion-hug CS3 Yes. You saw that one coming too, if course. The reunion of Rean and Alisa in the second chapter of Cold Steel 3 was hands down my favorite Rean and Alisa moment. This scene was absolut gold. The moment of Alisa dealing with her emotions after finally seeing Rean again and then just giving in to the urge to hug him and almost running him over in the process. Rean being suprised at first, but then absolute falling into the hug, hugging her back, dropping his voice, burying his lips in her hair.... AHHHH! I LOVE THAT SCENE SO MUCH! ♥ The fact that Sharon had to say something that would embarrassed Alisa enough to get those two out of their very own world. This scene is just pure gold. (Bonus points for Rean later on not being able to deny that he was totally overwhelmed by Alisas beauty XD) 2. A Total of 4 Kisses, 5 hugs and 2 dances! The whole Cold Steel Saga Why just take one moment per number? Lets take them all! The best way to show how strong that ship is, is by adding the Numbers. Rean and Alisa kiss for the first and second time as early as CS2, if you chose her as your partner that is. But why wouldn’t you? (XD I am aware of the many haters, but leave me in my dreamworld here.) The third kiss (once again, Alisa is the only one getting a kiss) is in Cold Steel 3, optional, yes, but still there. The last but most important kiss is at the night of promises in Cold Steel 4 in Reans Final bonding event. No one else gets that many kisses. Rean and Alisa share 5 freaking hugs over the curse of the saga and while some of them are bonding events-only (or if you have chosen Alisa in your final bonding event) two 3 of them are canon. Which are the reunion hug in CS2, the one in CS3 and the belated reunion-hug in CS4. Canon, guys. You will get them, if you like it or not. Falcom gives a damn about who you want as your final bonding-partner. Achem. If you chose Alisa in your CS1 final bonding event as your dance partner she will also be the only one of old Class7 who gets two dances over the curse of the game, because she is the ONLY old class 7 girl that Rean canonically dances with at the ball in CS3. (Also, I have to say it, try to watch the hug between Rean and Laura and Rean and Alisa and compare them and tell me Alisas reunion hug is not more intimate and tender then Lauras.) 3. Sitting in Reans lap CS2 In Reans and Alisas third Bonding-Event in CS2, she asks Rean if she can see the inside of Valimar and he transportes both her and Rean into it. And while we see much later with Celine that it isn’t impossible to position another Human in a different positon, Valimar choses to put Alisa right in Reans lap for that bonding event (I wonder if he did that with Dreichels and Lianne too XD) and Rean was surely not about to complain about it. It was adorable to see them have that moment of romantic staring into each other eyes and all that ♥ 4. The whole Breakup-issue CS4 Now you might ask: What the hell is wrong with you?! But let me explain! Do you even know that Rean and Alisas relationship is special already because of that breakup? Think about it. The first kiss Rean shared with people like Laura was in the same game, he and Alisa were already at a point in their relationship were they could break up. That is how far ahead of the others they were. Also, while the girls kissing Rean and confessing to him hardly had any big impact on them when the game continued, Reans and Alisas breakup was intentionally made to hurt you until it was fixed. If you play your cards right, Rean and Alisas link event in CS4 will start out to be hand holding, just to, after the breakup, go to an absolutely unbearably awkward scene that only returns back to hand holding shortly before the second bonding event. And its not just the link event that is awkward. These two are constantly sad and walking on eggshells when talking to and with each other and react very defeated whenever someone wants to tease them as a ship. As a shipper, it was painful to watch. However, something very special about Reans and Alisas Bonding events is how Rean is the one perusing here. In the other bonding events, the girls are like: “Here I love you, but you don’t have to say anything” and he actually doesn’t really say much about it until the final bonding event. However, with Alisa, Rean is the one pushing things, telling her that he sees them having a bright future together and all, even being the one who comes running to the final bonding event. All this pain ended up being well worth it, because at the end of the day, it established Alisa as Reans favorite and that is all that really matters to me. (Bonus because Alisa is the one of class 7 who breaks down when Rean dies and even gets comforted by Emma, regardless of the fact that you might actually date Emma.) 5. Rean favoring Alisa when he mentioned class7 Hajimari Rean and Alisa have been seperated though almost all of Hajimari as Alisa was stuck in Crossbell. However, Alisas name was constantly on his lips. Often the only name on his lips in fact, even tho Machias, Sharon and even Towa were stuck there too. It was always “Alisa and the others” and she was the one he greeted first when finally reunited. Also, I have to mention the scene on the phone. So, after finding out what happened in Crossbell, we see Rean on the phone, trying to call someone, but not reaching anyone, but he doesn’t say anything about it at first. However, shortly after, he is supposed to call Crow because of the C issue, shortly after he can not reach him he only has one thing to say: “I can not reach Alisa either.” not his colleauge Towa and not his friend Machias, just Alisa. It was quite amusing, because he kept only mentioning Alisa until they got reunited. AND in his special Episode, were Rean meets Shizuna, its mentioned that he wants to buy gifts for everyone but for old Class 7 it is once again just “Alisa and the others”, because Rean has priorities. And I love it ♥

You might be wondering why I mostly didn’t chose specefic scenes, like the Nightsky scene in Nord, but I feel that these things are so much more impactful.

Honorable mentions: Synchronized reactions in Hajmari. Alisa screaming Rean all the time. Their picture perfect first meeting. “Irina? She has raised a wonderful daughter.”

So I am finally done. This was really fun and all, but next time, one top 5 or top 10 for all ships would be plenty XD

[mantrabay]

Hope Springs Eternal Part 2.9

One should be cognizant of tread marks of a different kind that await all of us.

But attitude is key. A timeless trait.

More fodder this for that colourful cryptic creation I’m churning about in my brain.

One could not help but notice the dwellings in this compact charming but claustrophobic town.

They were spreadeagled to a fault with scant regard for privacy or personal space.

Neighbours like nodding polders wave from their aluminum polycarbonate verandas.

The sort with integrated guttering and moulded frames.

All packed together like crates in a warehouse.

A carbon copy of some construction company’s catalogue.

The trailing shrubs, wilting flowers in mosaic porcelain propagators, superimposed trellises and overstocked pools to name but a few.

They only served to reinforce their stylish if somewhat stifling similarity.

I was mindful of today’s appointment thanks to my tarnished gold watch and the sonorous chiming of the nearby chapel clock.

Of course one must not overlook Mr and Mrs Ispy as they were nicknamed locally.

The naughty snoops who were minding everybody's business bar their own.

Adam and alma ahern were their names.

Aunt Virginia had some scathing words about their type.

“Some people base their whole world around tittle tattle.

They are grounded in matters that smart folk view with Olympian disdain.”

One can just imagine the cocked ears and protruding noses feasting on every scrap of scandal real or contrived.

Theirs was an in-built antennae always aligned for mischief of the murkiest kind.

They had an ubiquitous presence.

You never knew what hedge or door they might pop out of.

They sniffer dogged their way around every trail, route, and byway in pursuit of some scurrilous rumour.

Encylopaedic were they on shenanigans of all kinds.

A satellite dish for backstabbing and intrigue.

Some were even so unkind as to suggest that they spied on each other.

They knew everybody and wormed their way into everyone’s confidence when they could!

Gossips at the cutting edge of trivia.

“Oops ….oh no! I’m about to crash.”

I said with my voice trembling.

Lost concentration for a minute.

My notepad and pen skating on a footpath that resembled a small scale ice rink.

Aunt virginia's word’s about focus were never more valid.

“ There goes my poem on ...a mudpatch.”

Despite this sudden intrusion I kept my balance but maybe lost something valuable.

A tumult of events on the ground and overhead took place.

Shrill birds chirping and circulating in the sky, swooning and swooping like a scene from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

As I slowly regained my balance I walked wearily and warily towards the diary with said verse.

The lines were smeared with mud.

Uncannily like a lady’s mudpack.

The heartfelt lines were still legible.

Well, just about.

My heart was beating for various reasons now.

I had a 4 pmdeadline to meet with forty or so minutes to spare.

Yet there were so many distractions.

An embarrassment of diversion sometimes towered above that stultifying uniformity which threatens even the most imaginative town architecture.

Or was my mind playing tricks on me with all the soundscapes and stimulation of the senses?

The downside of being a poet and writer perhaps?

Virginia’s words of wisdom coming back to haunt me but would I listen ?

The real world and fantasy can segue into one another with distinctions blurred and the usual proneness to exaggeration.

Were the exotic whiffs of Bombay mix recipes emanating from a market place bazaar or some nearby dwelling?

Were they just an illusion with factual elements mixed in?

Either way a favourite haunt of both the Ispy’s and the teen couple I had spoken to earlier was a marketplace.

Both had their own agenda with the aherns being the

more devious!

Pumpkin seed baps on spits reeking of sesame oil with the most aromatic seasonings wafting everywhere or so I thought.

Incense and Moroccan spices taunting the nose of this stroller on a mission. But also setting off rumblings in the tummy that couldn’t be sated immediately.

A very vivid image of Virginia with her Mona Lisaesque demeanor appeared.

I was juggling her insights on punctuality and other matters and trying to act on them.

Was I clutching at an ebbing twilight zeal or a burgeoning young at heart momentum?

Distractions make inroads into time but I felt I was being drawn to them.

Did I hear the raucous sound of docker’s voices barely audible but imaginable above the booming traffic?

Were they coming from somewhere close?

Maybe the ships trademark foghorn was setting off an overactive mind or had I supernatural powers at this point in my life?

Whatever the truth, there’s been many a threadbare naval yarn I’ve overheard.

The type that has been twisted, embroidered, embellished even marinated on seas high and low.

Gag induced guffaws billowing upwards as smoke from a chimney stack.

Uproarious bonhomie drowning out the offloading of fetid fish catch.

The vortex of a spiraling timeline giddy with impulse and image drove me on in defiance of their colour and charisma.

But before I knew it a wafer thin voice called out from the corner shop, the location of my rendezvous.

“Hello. Hope spring. I’m your date.

Bang on time both of us.”

A Spritely lady in her late sixties with profuse greying hair.

Her eyes were so expressive and sparkled with life.

“Don’t know if I shared my last name when we first met.”

“You did.” I replied.

Virginia, would be proud of my recollection.

“Did you get my call earlier this morning reminding you of the date?”

Hope Spring queried.

“I must have missed it.” Said I archly.

“I also wanted to ask how the poem was going?

We started talking casually as you were writing it.

You were having trouble naming it.”

She said.

“I couldn’t think … how about ?”

We both spoke at the same time and laughed.

“Hope ….hope springs eternal!”

The good of it all had us in stitches. I doubt my aunt Virginia would have approved with her dislike of such humour.

“Have you got the poem with you?” Hope enquired.

“No. Sorry, hope some of the lines are a bit muddied.” A reply that made me blush.

Virginia would have scowled.

“Maybe the next time we meet you’ll have it done.” Hope again.

That sounds promising I muttered to myself.

“Yahoo…..you two love birds.

Have fun. See you at the local coffee house.”

Sonia and Winifred's message as they passed by on their bicycles jolting us out of our conversation.

“Lovely people. Maybe we should take their advice and head off that way.”

Hope placing her right hand on mine.

I nodded in agreement.

“I’ve had this strange feeling all day that I’m being watched… another presence.

Ever had that feeling ?” Miss Spring enquired

innocently.

“As I haven’t been in this town for long

it seems more intense than the usual curiosity.” She continued.

“Shortly after I arrived in this

area I met a charming couple called the aherns.

They warned me of gossips who fed on eavesdropping and misfortune.

Maybe that’s it. I’m certainly grateful for their warning.” Said Hope.

I could barely restrain myself at this bizarre twist that Virginia would definitely

have found amusing.

At that I walked towards the cafe with Hope while craning my neck, taking in all all my surroundings and noticing everything!!

Photographs and short story extract mantrabay copyright protected.

Thanks as always for reading and viewing my posts.

I appreciate that.

[bro-stoevsky]

The Story of Lt. Michael Fitton and the Shark Papers

(@pilferingapples​ @thiswaitingheart @twofrontteethstillcrooked​ and @artificialities​ thank you for your Shark Papers support. @plinytheyounger​ as always thank you for listening to me BREATHLESSLY relate this on mobile during the workday.) and now

IT IS TIME for the story. The story of.....

Lt. Michael Fitton and the Shark Papers.

This story has every element necessary to a good story, those being: 

 Breakfast

 Sharks

 Paperwork

I accidentally stumbled upon the story of Lt. Michael Fitton and the Shark Papers last night in the following nigh-inscrutable anecdote about HMS Abergavenny:

“The tender Ferret and the cutter Sparrow were involved in a curious incident in which Ferret's captain, Acting Lieutenant Michael Fitton, served a shark to Lieutenant Hugh Wilie, captain of Sparrow and then surprised him with some papers.”

Reading this I have no idea what the fuck. You served someone a shark and “surprised him with some papers”? Like fine but. Why? Let us find out.

DISCLAIMER: I should warn you that this is not a legitimate academic inquiry into the Shark Papers, and certainly there are Shark Papers experts more expert than myself. But do they have my current feverish Shark Papers enthusiasm? I think not! Also it seems that the story of the Shark Papers, as with many good stories about sharks and/or papers, has split into many apocryphal directions. Still. It is time for the story......of Lt. Michael Fitton and the Shark Papers.

The year is 1799. The place, the Mona Passage. The West Indies? Very confusing trade wise. America? NEUTRAL in the war between England and France (despite fighting an undeclared war with France) honestly because we were busy with, I assume, an escalating workplace prank war between John Adams and Alexander Hamilton. 

This was, in general, a very unsafe region in which to be an American merchant ship, fearing as they did not only harassment by the French but also sometimes the Royal Navy, Spanish, and Dutch as well as the prospect of returning home to find that Adams had superglued Hamilton’s wig to his head or released bees into his desk drawer. 

Into this tense climate sails a brig called the Nancy. 

A Lieutenant Hugh Wylie of HMS Sparrow, finding it suspicious in some way captures the ship and escorts it to Port Royal to find out exactly what is going on. 

The captain of the ship, whose name is Thomas Briggs, insists that he has done nothing wrong. In some versions of the story his insistence is based on just straight the fuck up telling Wylie he and all his crew are Dutch. In other versions just his paperwork is Dutch, authorizing him to trade some goods in Curacao.

Either way, this story/paperwork/situation seems to check out with the prize court, and involve Holland somehow, and Lt. Wylie leaves Port Royal in disappointment. 

Two notes on the character of Lt. Wylie (courtesy of Mr. Fitton): 

(1) He seems to be dehydrated: 

(2) Although he abhors the pope, he would save the pope from drowning if the pope happened to be drowning nearby: 

HMS Sparrow rejoins the unfortunately-named HMS Ferret, which is being commanded by Acting Lieutenant Michael Fitton, of whom we know much more. He got up to a lot in his career, including the capture of some “30 or 40″ enemy ships and a great deal of derring-do, most notably during an action with the Spanish Santa Maria during which: 

“Lieutenant Fitton leaped overboard; and, with his sword in his mouth, followed by the greater part of his crew similarly armed, swam to, boarded, and after a stout resistance carried, the Spanish schooner.”

He shows up injured twice, once after having been run over by a gun and once after falling down a hatch during a hurricane. Most intriguing of all is the delicious but, it seems, receipts-less tea spilled on wikipedia: 

“Fitton never received a promotion beyond the rank of lieutenant. Not only did he lack a powerful patron but there is some suggestion that he may, by injudicious conduct early in his naval career, have made a powerful enemy.”

He is the main character in the 11 novels of the “Lieutenant Michael Fitton Adventures” which I have not read but have very disappointingly thwarted my nascent ambition to sit down and write 11 novels about him. 

Unknown is whether he would save the pope from drowning if the pope happened to be drowning nearby. 

On Wylie’s return, Fitton invites him to breakfast by signal and while killing time waiting for Wylie to come over he notices a dead cow in the water and associated sharks (Ferret was a tender ship to Abergavenny, and presumably on supply ships you do end up with a few dead cows in the water from time to time). One shark in particular catches his eye and  and decides he wants a shark cartilage walking stick, apparently must-have accessory: 

He catches the shark and gets a guy to butcher it. Inside the shark they discover a metal container and inside, some papers tied up with a string. The sailor who had been butchering the shark makes a joke:

In the retelling of this story, this joke remains, but gets less funny. By 1820 we hear nothing of this sailor’s “old blowing”: 

Interestingly enough Fitton does not seem to be exaggerating his role in catching the shark, as he repeats it under oath: 

We never know if he got his walking stick. 

Fitton, figuring any papers you find inside a shark are probably worth something, dries them out and reads them, and discovers they relate to an American ship Nancy.

In some versions of this story this alone is the required proof -- the ship is American. In others, it shows her original orders, which are French and not Dutch. Fitton just calls it “mercantile affairs.” The most likely version, because it is the most complicated, and because it has as its end goal the acquisition of coffee, is that the shark papers formed part of a paper trail proving that the ship deposited its original, legal cargo on Aruba, where it took on illegal cargo, armaments which were sold to the French in Haiti (for coffee). 

Either way, the shark had given Fitton receipts on the Nancy. Wylie, throughout this course of events, has still been rowing over. By now he has made it.

And he wants breakfast:

Fitton drags it out and some more delightfully period dialogue ensues: 

You’ll be a boy all your life-time, Fitton!

They go back and forth and Wylie is increasingly frustrated by how much Fitton seems to know about the Nancy (his disappointment at losing the prize presumably still fresh) and STILL wanting breakfast. Hilariously, he seems fairly convinced that the American supercargo is in fact Dutch because his last name is Schultz, lending some credence to the “fake Dutch” version of events: 

Fitton explains (but very annoyingly) that he knows all of this because he read it in the Shark Papers. Wylie cannot wrap his mind around the Shark Papers, which are in fact pretty far-fetched, and having heard Fitton explain the situation one too many times, STILL with no breakfast in sight, finally loses his patience with the breakfastless situation. I know people like this. Do you know people like this? 

The story is almost over. 

Wylie gets breakfast. In most cases, this breakfast is the shark. In every case, gratifyingly, the breakfast exists, which is a nice thing to know about a man in 1799 who so ardently wanted breakfast. 

Then he rows back to his own ship and apparently goes about his day for a while before it all dawns on him that Shark Papers are just the smoking, sharky gun he needs to reverse the prize court’s finding about the Nancy, and immediately orders Fitton to accompany him back to Port Royal, where they and the shark papers are deposed, and the captain of the Nancy convicted of smuggling. 

It is possible that the Shark Papers were only half of the evidence, the other half being provided by additional papers discovered in a pork barrel: 

So hard drove........into the pork? or in the barrel?

In some versions, news gets ahead of them (though I can’t imagine how?) and Briggs escapes, leaving the Nancy behind. In a fictionalized account that one hopes is inspired by the real thing, he blames the shark, “...swinging out of court, exclaiming, 

Wylie made £3,000 and Fitton £1,500 for his role in uncovering the Shark Papers. 

But our hero is not done yet.

The shark jaws remained in Port Royal until they were lost after an earthquake; the Shark Papers were still in the museum of the Royal United Service Institution as of 1889, but my google image search of “royal united service institution museum shark papers” only yielded pictures of sharks. 

Here ends the Story of Lt. Michael Fitton and the Shark Papers. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk on/Drunk History episode about this important subject. 

I think there are morals to this story: 

1. Sharks will eat anything, even and especially your secrets. 

2. If a shark has eaten your secrets, your secrets are not necessarily safe.

3. If the pope is drowning nearby, it is a mark of good character to save him, even if you don’t like him

4. Sometimes all that’s standing between you and a shitload of prize money is your annoying friend, a dead cow, the desire for a walking stick, some patience with fishing, and one shark.

  .

  .

  .

  .

Addendum: Fitton’s career began with the discovery of some secret papers in the ocean, too. When he was 14, having just entered the service as a Captain’s Servant on HMS Vestal:

“...he witnessed that of an American packet having on board Mr. Laurens, ex-President of the Rebel Congress, who was proceeding to Holland with a secret treaty of alliance with the Dutch. This treaty, previously to the actual capture of the ship, had been thrown in a bag overboard, and would never have been discovered but for Mr. Fitton, who, being at the moment employed in furling the fore-top gallant sail, observed what he considered to be a man overboard, and instantly made a report which led to its recovery. A declaration of war against the Dutch, and the immediate sweeping of their numerous vessels from the face of the sea, were thus the momentous results of Mr. Fitton’s keenness.”

Michael Fitton, pulling receipts on from the ocean and its sharks since 1780. 

[douxreviews]

Legends of Tomorrow - ‘The Eggplant, The Witch, and The Wardrobe’ Review

“Mikey! Mikey, Stop!”

Legends continues to ramp up the action as it moves into the final phases of its too short fourth season, and on the way makes the most important statement about relationships that's ever been uttered on genre television.

Have I mentioned how much I love this show?

One of the most consistently impressive things about the way Legends of Tomorrow tells its stories is the way that they're able to take what should be standard, if not cliched, plot set-ups and somehow turn them into something unexpectedly fantastic. Last year, Zari's turn at reliving Groundhog Day gave us the amazing 'Here I Go Again'. This week we get that thing that genre shows love to do wherein one character physically enters another character's mind in order to 'save' them from whatever has caused them to fall unresponsive, and therein finds a world built almost entirely of visual metaphors that help them work through a bit of character development before we get back to the season's larger plot.

So, yes. It's essentially Sara Lance as Willow Rosenberg in 'Weight of the World'. With the small difference that Ava, our Buffy-surrogate in the set-up, is actually able and willing to have a profoundly frank and adult discussion with her inside the, for lack of a better term, 'dreamscape'.

And really, I know that this gets mentioned in these pages a lot, but that's the greatest strength that Legends of Tomorrow has; the way that all of the characters are allowed to behave like rational and emotionally available adults, despite also being time travelling superheroes. It's sure as hell that none of us saw that coming, back in the Vandal Savage days.

Case in point, look at the way that they completely skated past the obvious 'everyone but Ray blames Nora for Hank's death' plotline here. That was obviously what we were being set up for back at the end of 'The Getaway', and yet within the first couple of scenes this week we have the Legends find out that Nora is on the Waverider, she says 'I swear I didn't kill Hank', and Constantine essentially responds, 'Yeah, we totally already figured that out. It was actually fairly obvious, and just the tiniest amount of follow-up on our part established what was really going on. We're totes good, Nora.' And everyone immediately gets on the same page on the issue, because they're all behaving like reasonable adults. That is huge. That just doesn't happen on television.

Even Nate only needs to take the smallest of moments questioning whether or not Nora is guilty before he processes what he's being told and accepts it, and that's the one instance in which they could have legitimately gotten away with a character responding in a destructive way because he was responding emotionally to his father's loss. But they didn't go there, and it cannot be overstated what a positive and refreshing example that is to see.

It's particularly clever of them, because of the way that they pulled the rug out from under us at least twice this week regarding the heavily foreshadowed Nate/Ray schism that we were all bracing ourselves for. Nate finds out that Ray has been harboring the woman he thinks killed his dad, and he responds by listening to what his friend is telling him, accepting what he's being told, and reaffirms their friendship. A little later on we see him accidentally punch Ray in what we assume is going to be the beginning of their 'Civil War' style breakup, only to immediately get ahold of himself, apologize, and embrace his friend. An apology that Ray accepts without hesitation, I might add, because Nate's actions were both completely understandable under the circumstances and immediately apologized for.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the world's greatest ever example of positive male friendship. I'm starting to believe that if we can just get enough people to watch this show, we might actually find a way to counter toxic masculinity. Wouldn't that be nice?

All of which is a roundabout way for me to get to the point that I've been growing to realize that it's really the character relationships that make this show. Witness, for example, the curious level of kindness that Constantine shows to Gary when he wants to hold vigil for Ava. Gary, by rights, should be pure dorky comic relief. Constantine, as a character type, exists almost solely to deflate that kind of comic relief character. And yet when push comes to shove, John goes to Gary's D&D nights. John cares about Gary. That's a nice detail. Similarly, it's notable the way that Mick is willing to help out Zari in something as trivial as crafting sexy text messages to Nate. Mick of even two years ago would absolutely not have been doing that.

Which brings me back to my initial point as regards that important statement about relationships. After a truly enjoyable series of sequences in the 'evil purgatory Ikea', Ava and Sara have some incredibly frank and direct talk about their relationship. And during that talk, they're both so amazingly emotionally available to one another and so willing to be vulnerable with one another. I honestly cannot think of a healthier relationship on television, ever. Not in the sense that they don't have problems, because they clearly do, but in the way tat they're willing to acknowledge them, and admit when they're in the wrong. It's messy, and it's real, and I love every second of it. And just when I think it can't get any better, Ava says;

"Let’s be honest, neither of us needs anybody. But you are who I want."

Yes. That. A million times, that. Can we amplify that message about a billion times, until it drowns out all the rom-com 'I need you to complete me' bullshit? Because that would be wonderful.

Be more like Nate and Ray, people

So what have we learned today?

To stop including this section in the reviews, because trying to condense a logically consistent universal rulebook of how timeline changes work in this fictional universe is absolutely nothing compared to what we should be learning from the character relationships. Also, clearly no one involved in the show is worrying about it.

Everybody remember where we parked.

This week the Waverider pretty much stayed where it was in Washington D.C., 2019. At least, it logically must have been sine Zari could send texts to that year, and Ray bounced back and forth between the ship and the Time Bureau.

Sara, meanwhile, went to actual literal purgatory to rescue Ava's soul. Purgatory, in this case, being an obvious Ikea knock-off called 'Megastor', complete with umlaut.

Quotes:

Ray: "Hey Sara! Great news. Hank was killed by a demon!" Nora: "'Great' was not the word he was looking for."

Ray: "She’s not a liability. She’s a survivor."

Sara: "You two are with me. (To Zari) Woman the ship."

Gary: "Conspiracies, embezzling, paper trails. I feel like Julia Roberts in Erin Brockovich."

Nate: "If this is my dad’s mistress I’m gonna jump out a window."

Sara: "Ava, if you check out, you die." Ava: "Well that’s kinda on the nose, isn’t it?"

Charlie: "Being honest, wind powers- just not that scary." Mick: "Yeah, you’re like a magical hair dryer."

Nate: "Yeah, hi. We’re looking for Mr. Uh… Mr… T."

Zari: "I don’t even know why I’m talking to you two about it. You don’t even date humans." Mick: "Love’s love."

Nora: "I know how hard it is to watch someone you love become a demon." John: "Yeah, well too bad there aren’t any Beebo’s around to hug it to death."

Mick: "Here. Use words. It’s erotic, but vulnerable."

Bits and pieces:

-- Yes, I realize that they were actually in purgatory, where her soul was currently stuck, but all the semiotic rules at play here clearly were working on the understanding of 'dreamscape'.

-- So apparently Neron wanted Ava's body to host somebody called Tabitha, I assume she's his demon girlfriend.

-- The trope of the bad guy having a favorite whistle-tune so that we can identify what body he's jumped into later is super clichéd and tired. I still didn't see it coming that he'd end up in Ray though.

-- You should absolutely never pay less than $800 for a mattress. Under any circumstances.

-- It's not clear what actually happened to Nora in that ritual. Are she and Ray going to end up as Tabitha and Neron? I'd be down for that.

-- Absolutely nothing about Hank's magical creature zoo makes sense, and he certainly wouldn't have needed a demon's help to set it up. I hate everything about that plotline, with the exception of Mikey T, who is awesome.

-- Zari, Charlie and Mona giggling about texting boys shouldn't have been charming, but was completely 100% adorable.

-- Dirty secret time, I adore assembling flatpack furniture. Honestly, it's my favorite thing in the whole world. I'm not kidding.

-- The effect of aging and de-aging as the sat on the mattress was really nicely done. A very clean low tech solution which worked well.

-- I'm actually really surprised at how quickly Mona has begun feeling like a natural part of the team.

A really good episode with a lot of really positive things to say about adult relationships, both romantic and otherwise. I just wish it hadn't involved the stupid magical creatures zoo plot, because it's stupid and muddies the waters as to what Neron actually wants to accomplish.

Three out of four flatpack dressers.

Mikey Heinrich is, among other things, a freelance writer, volunteer firefighter, and roughly 78% water.

[tedddy-exe]

Jonathan

Jonathan.

[Inspired off the movie Annie 1982. This book is an H20VANOSS. Other ships will be included]

Characters replaced 

Annie – Jonathan

Sandy – Squirrel Bryce – Molly

Ryan – Pepper 

[All other characters will be the same, others have been added. I’d like to say this story is in between 2010 to 2014.]

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

Chapter 4

‘Intruder’

A car engine could be heard from outside, it was very loud. Jonathan looked to the front door from the main hall with a confused face. “It’s only Mr. Warbucks don’t worry now.”, and off went Grace.

“Bark bark!”, Squirrel ran down the stairs in the main hall, running past two men who were unloading a box and the camera man. He was covered in soap and bubbles from jumping out the bath when Drake was cleaning him. Jonathan grabbed the dog before he could leave anymore trails, a small smile fixed on his face. Jonathan watched as Grace greeted the man who came storming in, “Good afternoon sir”.

A butler also came out from one of the many doors in the main hall and held a tray.

“Did my painting arrive?”, the older man strutted with a bad attitude. “They’re just unpacking it sir”.

It kind of scared Jonathan, so he hid behind one of the pillars with Squirrel. The men that were unboxing something from the stairs were now at the bottom holding up the painting with a cloth when Mr. Warbucks came to a stop to look at it, they removed the cloth and there on the painting was the one and only, Mona Lisa. Jonathan looked closely at it from afar, it was actually really nice, but Jonathan thinks Mr. Warbucks doesn’t think the same as him. “Hm”, a grunt from Mr. Warbucks, he started walking backwards to get a far away look at it, Jonathan had too move over a bit.

“I don’t like it! Send it back!” He waved fingers. The men started going back up stairs to put it in its box, “Any messages?”.

“Uh, yes sir. Mr. Rosenberg called 3 times today, he said it was very urgent.”

“Everything is urgent to a democrat, what else?”

“Uh well-”

Mr. Warbucks bald head suddenly shifted its gaze toward the Mona Lisa, “Wait! There is something interesting about that woman’s smile, I think I might learn to like her. Put her in my bathroom!”.

The two men carrying the painting changed their route and headed for the bathroom. “Now tell-”

“Wait, I’d like you to me-”, “And send it up to my room at midnight!”. Mr. Warbucks moved around him, and the camera man took a photo of him, “Arrugh!”. Mr. Warbucks took the camera from his hands and threw it away, Punjab had come in not so long ago to watch the scene unfold, Grace let out a few cries of panic, “What the devil is going on here!”.

“Oh, Mr. Warbucks, the press sent him to take photos of your image!”

Mr. Warbucks angered face disappeared, and he put on a smile. “Oh yeah”, Mr. Warbucks laughed, “Pick him up Punjab and get him a new camera”.

Mr. Warbucks started sniffing the air, “Why do I smell wet dog?”

That’s when Jonathan thought it would be perfect timing to come out from behind the pillar, “Because we gave Squirrel a bath”, his face displayed worry, the man’s face reminded him of Ryan’s grumpy one.

Mr. Warbucks looked him up and down, “What is this?”.

Grace laughed slightly, “Jonathan, sir. This is the orphan who will be staying with us for a week”

“Orphan? What are you talking about?”, his eyes still trained on Jonathan, “Well, they wanted to take photographs of you sharing your home with an orphan, don’t you remember. Its only for a week!”

Jonathan watched as they talked back and forth, “this doesn’t look like a boy!”, Jonathan touched his hair, gosh; people really did mistake him for a girl too much. “Sir, Jonathan is a boy”.

Mr. Warbucks gave Jonathan another look, nodding. “So, he is”, he noticed his mistake.

Jonathan stepped forward, “I’ve got an interesting smile too, sir. Don’t you think you can learn to like me too sir? Hang me in the bathroom?”, Jonathan smiled big and his own joke.

“Take him back!” Mr. Warbucks yelled; Jonathan shrank away from him loud voice.

“But, sir! He only just got here!” Grace fought against his order.

“it’s okay Miss Farrell, we’re okay. Anyhow it was really nice meeting you, I sure do like your place”, Jonathan swung his arms around while looking around. “Thank you, Jordan”.

“Jonathan, I’ve already had swell time already. The car that took us here was as big a train, Mr. Warbucks, and Punjab put a spell on Squirrel, we made Drake sneeze, played your pipe organ, Squirrel got a bubble bath and well I’ve had enough fun to last me for years. it’s a very clever idea, a wonderful idea to have an orphan over for a week Mr. Warbucks, really, even if its only for your image, even if I’m not an orphan. I’m glad you’re doing it!”

Mr. Warbucks nodded, “I’m glad you approve”.

It was silent for a few moments before Mr. Warbucks screamed again, “Alright back to work!”.

Two men and Grace followed him, men holding suit cases.

“Oh, couldn’t he stay, please Mr. Warbucks!”

“Whatever, but only for the week!”. Grace turned to give Jonathan thumbs up, his goofy smile returned to his face. He was going to stay at a billionaire’s home for a week!

Rooster made chicken noises, Startling Miss Hannigan. Lily sat beside him, “Rooster?”. He stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Hi Sister”.

“You’re supposed to be in jail”.

“They let me out early”

Lily butted in, “in account of his good behavior”. Her posh accent burning like cigarettes. “I want you too meet a friend of mine, Lily St. Regis”

“Name from the hotel”, he expensive outfit was also burning its way through, so was her hair, bleached blond and frizzed up into curls. “Room service”, it is what Miss Hannigan replied with.

“Sis-”

The two began talking to each other as Lily started rummaging through Miss Hannigan’s stuff, taking some things and stuffing it down her bra.

“-So, I need money”, Miss Hannigan shook her head, she took a swig from the bottle she was holding. “But I’m sure Miss sticky hands over here could lend you some”.

“Excuse me?”

Miss Hannigan put out her hand. “Give me back my stuff, toots”

Lily rolled her eyes and pulled out the bracelet from her bra handing it over, Agatha coughed starting her boobs. Lily reached in again pulling out a couple of long necklaces.

“Right, Rooster. If I give you five bucks will ya take hotel and get outta here?”

“Sorry sis”, And they left. Miss Hannigan hiccupped, and she walked over to her bag to see her purse was taken.  “ROOSTER!”

Upstairs where all the other orphans slept were wide awake, Ryan signing. It was odd, but he knew if Jonathan wasn’t here to sing, who would?

“Betcha he reads, betcha she sews. Maybe she’s made a closet of clothes for me, maybe they’re strict as a line, don’t really care as long as their mine. So maybe now it’s time, and maybe when I wake. They’ll be calling my ‘baby’, maybe”.

Jonathan felt wide awake in his new bed, Squirrel under the covers with him, he sat up. The wind has hollowing from the open widows. “This rooms bigger than anything I’ve ever seen”, Squirrel barked his thoughts agreeing, A plant fell over which gave Jonathan a fright, He grabbed onto Squirrel pulling him and running out and into the hallway, “C’mon Squirrel, c’mon!”

Jonathan ran his long nightgown following behind him, he ran into Mr. Warbucks’s office, passes Punjab and Asp who were playing chess just outside Mr. Warbucks’s office. Punjab placed his piece and leaned over the table watching Jonathan rush by, Jonathan could now hear Mr. Warbucks’s loud voice, Squirrel was the first to enter the door of the office then Jonathan who looked around the fancy room filled with decorations and more fancy stuff.

Squirrel was up at the table sniffing everything he could his tan tail flicking everywhere, Grace was sat in front of Mr. Warbucks’s table, writing things down as quick as she could.

Jonathan gazed upon the two, his nose scrunched up and eyebrows low, confused.

Mr. Warbucks spotted Jonathan as he came up to his desk, “What’s this?”, he asked, it was way past 12:30 and Jonathan was put to bed by Grace almost 3 hours ago, which would have been 9 pm. An early time to be put to bed but Jonathan thought it was just right for him, he was one to get sleepy very quick after a day of being such an energetic ball of light.

But he was having a hard time falling asleep without Bryce and Ryan. And because it was a new environment.

“Uh, Squirrel’s not used to sleeping on his own, he gets lonesome”. That was a lie, Squirrel was underneath Jonathan’s covers before running into the office after getting scared of a plant falling over, truth was he was the lonesome one without his close friends, he wonders if Ryan and Bryce are sleeping well.

“Awh, well, where were we?”, was his reply.

“Uh, advisers. Sir”, was Grace’s reply.

Jonathan butted in, “Are you getting a lot done?”

“I’d get a lot more done if certain-”. Squirrel’s barks interrupted Mr. Warbucks answer, “-Sandy, Scroll, Squirrel would leave me alone!”. But Squirrel’s barks were only getting louder.

“Hm, whatcha talking about anyways?”. Mr. Warbucks liked Jonathan’s interest and told him then shouted on Punjab, “Punjab!”.

He walked in, stone cold face. “Remove this animal and this young man with it”.

Mr. Warbucks started recording a message on his recorder, suddenly a smoke bomb came flying in through the window, Asp picked it up throwing it to Punjab who threw it over the balcony, where it exploded.

Both Grace and Jonathan jumped watching the thing explode, Squirrel jumped through the hole now in the window grabbing the hooded mans leg in his mouth, growling.

Asp then came out made a weird warrior cry, jumped kicked him in the face and then punched him in the stomach, all the while Mr. Warbucks kept recording his talk.

Punjab grabbed the man and pulled the intruder away into the halls to go back downstairs and chuck him out, Asp also followed, his black hair still slicked up.

Grace held onto Jonathan watching the man get dragged away, he seemed to be chanting something, but none could make out what he was saying, it was all slurred. Must be drunk.

Squirrel jumped up on the other side of the table were Mr. Warbucks ended his message, Mr. Warbucks patted the dogs head with a smile.

Jonathan looked around, “What was that all about?”.

“Well done, Squirrel”. Mr. Warbucks praised the German shepherd.

“Is that man trying to kill you?” Jonathan started asking more questions, “That’ll be all Miss Farrell”, And with that she nodded and pulled Jonathan away. “Come along dear”, She pushed him gently by his shoulders leading him back to his room, Squirrel followed.

“It is way past your bed time, I put you to sleep almost 4 hours ago”, She checked the clock that the past on the way down the hallway. It was now midnight. “I know, but I’m finding it hard to sleep without Ryan or Bryce”, Grace smiled at him.

“I’m sure your friends miss you too”.

“yeah”, Jonathan’s reply was sad. They had entered Jonathan’s room by now, Grace knelt and hugged Jonathan. “Go to sleep Jonathan, we need you up and early for breakfast in bed”.

She helped Jonathan back into bed, Squirrel seated at the bottom, she had just tucked him in.

“Your 16 and act too much like a 10-year-old on a sugar high, I’m literally tucking you in”, She laughed silently.

Jonathan looked up to her, “Is that a bad thing, Ryan says I’m to hyper”. Grace smiled even more, she kissed his forehead, “Definitely not, I think it defines you greatly. Now sleep”. She picked up the fallen plant, “Maids will clean up the dirt, Goodnight”, and with that she left closing the door behind her.

[the-erickson-labrynthian]

Stories of Sabyn IV, Officer Santamona Eelila (2)

(The fourth in a ten part series set on the planet of Sabyn from my novella Nathan and the Allex Cube. I hope you enjoy, read the rest, buy the book, or support me in any way. It’d be pretty cool. Idk. Here you go:)

Officer Santamona Eelila (2):

The long night never seemed to end as Officer Eelila found herself interrogating a drunken slob, drooling on the desk. She repeated once more, “Tell me everything you know about a man, no, a terrorist, known as William James Briggs.”

“William James Briggs?” Alan laughed, “You guys finally deluded yourselves enough that you think you can catch him?”

Officer Eelila clenched her fists and leaned over the table, “I need you to tell me where you think he is. You are the last living man who knows anything about him. Tell me, now!”

“So I can die too?” He shook his head, “I’m no fucking fool, I know what happens when his name shows up.”

“This is national security. No matter how much you hate the government, you have a civic duty to uphold. Tell me.”

“Civic duty? Are you insane?” He continued to laugh, still drooling, “I’d be killed for getting anywhere near that ass again.”

She started to pull on her hair, “Listen, we are running out of time. I have to find this man soon. This is not some petty crime like your drug cartel. This is nothing that anyone on this planet is prepared for. We are talking about the apprehension of weapons capable of destroying a continent!”

Alan stopped, “He’s… finally going for the nukes. He told me about that plan for months on end. Talked about disabling them to disarm the government.”

“It’s a lie,” She spat, “He wants to use them so that he can gain power. He wants to control the planet. He’s a terrorist. You say he told you about this? You need to tell me anything you know about the plan.”

Alan dragged his arm across his face to wipe it, saying, “I hate that man. I really do. But, that man is not a liar. Not by a long shot. He’s just dangerous, because of the power he holds. But if you would have only stepped out of his way… no one would have to die.”

“That is asking an entire government to bow to the whims of a maniac! I cannot do this. You cannot do this. That man has caused lifetimes of damage to countless of planets! And he would sacrifice any life to give him power.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” The man chuckled, “Fuck you. Of course I know that. Do you know what happens when William Briggs enters your life? Do you?”

Eelila went blank as a flash of fire entered her mind, that burned through the field, unstoppable by any man. Then a tunnel, which held darkness so deep it consumed her. Then a ship, floating off into the distant void of the universe. Then water, that washed everything away. Good and bad. All memories. And then… the darkness of the room around her, the end of her life, at a job that could never satisfy.

Alan continued, “He has surrounded my whole life. Ruined everything I was. Made my family hate me. Killed somebody I loved! And he wasn’t sorry! Not really. He wanted to be. You could see it in his eyes, that he wanted to be sorry for what he did, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. That is what drags you back! Because he wants so badly to change that he makes you believe you can change him! But it’s nonsense! He can never change! He’s the Devil! And he killed my…” Alan stopped, “He is fire, and he destroys everything he touches. Everything. You want to stop him? Then burn. But, leave me out of the fire.”

The eloquence of this man proved that he was never really the slob she saw before her. That demeanor when they first met, it was a facade, he was no rat. He was just a broken man. She tried to comfort him.

“He took things away from me, too. And, I saw that same hope you did, Alan. I saw a man who could change the universe, had he chosen a different course. But, he didn’t, Alan. He has become a monster, and he must be put away. If you know anything, please, tell me, and end this fire. Forever.”

Alan began to cry, “I never wanted things to be this way.”

“No one ever does.”

“There’s no stopping him.”

“If we don’t try, what are we?” She broke the usual code she had and touched Alan’s hand, “If he really wanted help, then he wants to be stopped. If we wish to save the world, we stop him.”

“What could stop a man like that?”

“You. Tell me anything you can think of. Anything. Please.”

He paused for a moment, reflecting. Eelila’s heart raced as he pondered, anxious for any chance to catch the man that had plagued her life for so long. She looked outside; the moon held constant in the sky. Waning gibbous. She hated to waste one of the few nights she had on a gibbous.

“Okay,” Alan said.

Eelila broke her gaze at the moon and turned to him, “What?”

“I’ll tell you, on one condition.”

She grabbed his hand again, “Anything. What is it?”

“Arrest me.”

“W-what?” She stumbled through her words, “Why would you do something like that?”

Now he grabbed her hand, though it was through the cuffs he was sealed in, and he said, “Look at me. Look at what I’ve become. I lost everything…” He trailed off, “Everything. That man took away my life. William left me with nothing. He gave me money, of course he did. He gave me his name, and promised he would be there, but he never called. And even if he did, I would never answer. I lost everything.”

“But why do you want to be arrested?”

“It’s the only life I know. I don’t want to live on the streets, losing even more of myself. I want a second chance. This is it. It’s the only path I can take. Once I do this…” He paused again, “It’ll all be over. Maybe I can be forgiven for what I’ve done…”

A tear fell down her cheeks. She hated when that happened. She squeezed his hand, “I forgive you.”

“Then set me free.”

She thought he had such kind eyes. What kind of life could he have lived, if William hadn’t put his hands onto him?

The same life you might have lived, Mona…

“Okay. It’s a deal. Tell me.”

“When I was working with him, he led me to his base of operations, where he stores everything he has. If he has anything, it’s there. He should be too, I hope. He never could get away from his machines…”

“Where is it?”

“Right… it’s at Recompense Ave, 24601. A green house with broken windows, and a bright red door,” He closed his eyes, perhaps having his own difficult memories of this place he was describing.

“Thank you,” She whispered, “I promise I will stop him.”

He nodded and began to cry. Eelila pulled herself up and left the room to see Officer Bureau on the other side, waiting.

“What did you hear?” She asked him.

“Enough to know I heard nothing, but you’re breaking protocol.”

She grabbed Bureau by the chin and pulled him closer, “The first thing you need to learn about this job is that people matter more than rules. And, even horrible people deserve relief. And freedom.”

He said nothing.

“Good. Now, take him in. I’ve got a lead, and I’ve got to clear it out with Adams.”

Bureau spoke again, “He’ll never let you go take him out. He knows you’re too close to this case.”

She laughed, “No one else is handled to kill that man. Only me. Now, I told you to go take him in. I’ve got one more belligerent ass to handle before I can do what is my right to do.”

He went silent once more, only nodding, and pushing behind her to open the door. Eelila watched as he went over to Alan, saying, “Alright, Mr. Reigns, your luck has run out.”

Alan looked at her, and she smiled, content with what she had done. Next, Eelila watched the two of them walk out of the room and off to the left, where the cells were, before inmates were taken to prison. She went to the right, and upstairs, to the boss’ office.

I’ve almost got you, William Briggs.

[sweetbunpura]

I’m Your Sword and I’m Your Shield Ch.17

You look down at your phone as you get off the train that’s stopped at Yongen-Jaya. Still no texts from Ryuji, which concerns you greatly. You unconsciously tug at the straps of your uniform as you run out of the station. You make fast tracks to Leblanc, maybe Ryuji was already there and had gotten caught up with the other phantom thieves. You open the door and are greeted by the worried looks of the other teens.

“He’s not here, is he?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“We can’t get a hold of him.” Makoto answered, “We assumed he was with you.”

You shake your head, “He hasn’t texted me or anything…”

Futaba and Haru make room for you to sit down. You sink down into the cushions, phone placed on the table in front of you. You run your fingers through your hair as the sense of uneasiness flows through you.

“When was the last time you’ve heard from him?” Akechi asks.

“Last night.” Came your drained answer. “We were talking about seeing a movie sometime this weekend…”

“Is it possible he could’ve slept in?”

You shake your head and slump into the cushions, “He never sleeps in this late.”

A hushed silence befalls the cafe after you say that. Haru places her hand in your shoulder as comfort as you bury your face in your hands. Suddenly, your phone goes off and you make a quick grab for it. You see that it’s from Ryuji and that dreaded feeling in your chest lightens. You unlock your phone and open the message, which causes you to drop the device in shock. The others peer at the message and their eyes widen upon seeing the image. Both Ann and Haru have their hands over their moves in surprise, both of their faces have paled.

Futaba and Yusuke wear matching expressions, both of worry and of fear. Akechi and Akira’s eyes are glued to the screech, both of them were quiet as their eyes flickered over every detail in the picture. The image was of Ryuji, sitting in a chair: bound, gagged, blood leaving a trail down the side of his face and glaring at the camera.

“W-who could’ve-” Haru didn’t get to finish as your ringtone for Ryuji went off.

You stare at the phone, almost reluctant to pick it up, but you will yourself to do it anyway.

“Put it on speaker.” Akira commands.

You do as he says and pick up on the second ring. “Hello?” You managed to keep your voice somewhat calm.

“Did you enjoy the picture I sent you?”

Your blood runs cold as you hear the voice of Ryuji’s kidnapper. “T-Takeshi?”

“If you had just kept your mouth shut, then we wouldn’t have taken him.” Takeshi mocked, “But you just had to tell him about what you heard, didn’t you? Couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

You growl, “You were planning on shipping out drugs and guns and framing my father for all your crimes if you got caught in the process. My father worked hard to get where he was, while you just road everyone’s coat tails!”

Takeshi tched and the sound of moving fabric filtered through the speaker. “Watch how you speak to me, or else, Sakamoto-kun might get hurt.”

There’s a muffled sound of anger that comes from the phone and it almost makes your heart stop.

“Let me talk to him.”

“Why should I?”

You do your best to mask the frantic tone behind your voice. “It’s not like you lose anything by doing it.”

Silence echoed from the other line before a sigh was heard. The sound of dress shoes on hard floor echoed throughout the cafe as you and the others waited in anticipation.

“(Y/N).”

You let go of the breath you were holding as Ryuji’s voice was heard.

“Are you alright?”

“Still a bit dizzy from the hit.” A small silence followed before Ryuji added, “How’s the card game?”

The team gives you strange looks as you reply, “Just pulled a Joker and a Queen.”

“See any animal videos lately?”

“I saw one about a Fox, Panther, and Crow.”

Akira, Akechi, and Makoto caught on quickly while the others continue giving you odd looks.

“What about games?”

“Oracle of Time, N.Y Noir, and Super Mona Brothers.”

By now, the rest of the phantom thieves have already caught on, although some of them give you surprised looks at the code you and Ryuji have come up with.

“The hell kinda conversation is this?” Comes Takeshi voice.

“A talk among friends.” You calmly reply, “…Was there a reason for kidnapping Ryuji?”

“An associate of mine heard you talking to Sakamoto the other day. Couldn’t have both of you blabbing, so I took the least important one.”

You clench your fists and try to control your breathing as anger washes over you.

“So, you have two options: 1) You tell dear old pop about my crimes and Sakamoto dies. 2) You don’t talk, your father loses his job, and Sakamoto goes free. Which one will it be?”

A harsh chill fell over the cafe as all eyes fell to you for a response. You feel faint as your mind runs through your options. In the end, you still lose something precious to you.

“I-”

“You have a week. Give me your answer then.”

“But-”

“Hey!” There’s the sound of a scuffle before Ryuji yells out:

“Change his heart!”

There’s more scuffle sounds with Ryuji repeating the same phrase over and over again until a gunshot rings out.

“Ryuji!” The others cry out while you cover your mouth in horror.

‘Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t-’

“You have 3 days now.”

“Wait-!”

The line goes dead after that and you feel your heart give out.

[silverhands-etcetera]

Another One Bites The Dust.

On the first day that Ignacio, Riccardo & I went out for a beer, in Castilblanco de los Arroyos, both of them professed to not be followers of sports of any kind. It seems as though there is an exemption for football (soccer) within that statement, when it is made by European men. The depth & detail to which the game and players are discussed on a daily basis is quite impressive. If these guys aren't following the teams, then they are both doing an incredible job of faking it. We are no longer speaking one language, even within a single sentence. I have noticed a little bit of Italian pronunciation falling onto my consonants, and Ignacio tends to place bursts of Italian words that we've come to recognize inside of conversations ostensibly based in Spanish. -Already being versed in jumping from Spanish to Catalan, changing horses in mid-sentence is not a foreign concept. This is how we roll when we are walking together, when we are joined by Michel, all bets are off for even pretending to stay within a Castilian framework. I noticed a couple days ago, that when I was speaking, I was speaking very loudly. Much like the pace of the walk, we seem to have adapted our standard speaking volume to that of the Italian. My voice is a little hoarse, and it's not because of the sun. The range of topics can start at pop music and end with fine art - -- "the most famous painting in the world, the Mona Lisa, an Italian painting,... but that son of a bitch thief Napoleon stole it and took it to France.." -- Riccardo can tie any topic in with an Italian connection, and seldom fails to do so. Music, art, religion,- all can be traced back to the Mafia. Questions of war & government were touched on by each of us, but Riccardo was strangely silent when we discussed the Masons... Ignacio embraces the meaning of being Catalan, but has no patience for anyone who claims a superiority over anyone else, or anyone who attempts to exact influence through fear. This is where he & I are in the deepest of understanding. -- "I think you can learn more by listening than by speaking" "That's what I'm talking about..." -- Andres did not go home, he went ahead of us for a few days of solitary walking, -something that the rest of us had at the beginning of the Camino, but he was never free to partake of. We intend to catch him in Mérida, which we are just a couple of days away from. We're all doing well, but all the same we are looking to Sunday as the beginning of a rest. If we make it to the city early enough, we'll find a bar & watch the GP motorcycle races on the TV (another sport that's exempt form statements about not following sports). Two of us are certain we don't have enough time to make the entire walk to Santiago, so we're being realistic about an inevitable end to our fraternal group. I will be taking at least one day off. My legs are doing ok, but my Achilles heel has always been my feet, and they are holding up, but just the same I don't want to push it unnecessarily. The Spaniards tell me that Mérida is a beautiful city to spend time in, so I'm definitely interested in spending a day or so off of the trail. The people I have met over the course of the Camino so far have done more for the expanding of my thoughts and energy than my wandering mind alone ever could. Even if whatever happens after Merida is just a suffix to what we've found so far, the Camino has shown me something that I wasn't able to see before. -The hardest part will be carrying the lesson back into the world, where cynicism can often be my first language. -- As for today, It was an easy walk, only twenty km, but the for-profit hostel was working hard to get us to leave the premises, and our welcome was obviously worn out, so we set out early. It was a steep climb up a hill just a bit too small to call a mountain, this was all that separated Zafra from the nearest little town. We caught Michel as we walked down the hill into town, where we sat for some coffee, to augment the american-brown-water that they grudgingly served us at the hostel. Leaving the little pueblo, the trail rose into fields of olive trees & grapes. With a break every now & then for an old ruin of a building, or a short stretch of pasture. The ancient olive trees of Extremadura don't disappoint in making a dramatic impression, with twisted old trunks that look like petrified, tortured scarecrows, -scarecrows holding pom-poms. With short, fresh branches on 200-year old trunks made out of wood that looks like it's been dead & dried fifty years ago, but still sending out new shoots, which hang down low enough to offer their fruit to a farmer standing with his feet on the ground. Extremadura is mostly desert, and we're just now starting into it. There are fewer fenceposts to find arrows on, less markers in general due to the barrenness of the land, and the constant altering of the soil by wind and by tillage, leaving fewer rocks that go untouched year in & year out, thus offering less permanent places to tag with a painted yellow arrow. That magic feeling of recognition when we find an arrow is still there. The thought that somebody preceded us and put this here to ensure our safe passage. In hindsight, when considering the millions of souls who have been passing on this road since the beginning of civilization, it appears to me a rather silly choice of destination for seeking solitude. There is an energy on the old roads & paths that dissipates as we approach a main highway. Today we could see our destination for a good two hours before reaching it, and the Way had to make a jog in course to navigate the highway overpass. The route became less intuitive as we were led on a mild goose chase away from the general direction of the town right in front of us. With no signposts or bridges to paint on, we had to stay vigilant in search of the arrows, and eventually the olive trees even lent a hand and offered us an arrow or two. It's scorching hot as we sit in town now, but with a breeze that makes it uncomfortably cold in the shade. It's like a desert. The hostel dormitory is laid out like a ship's barracks, with bunks built into the wall, mine on the third level, under the sloping roof. I have a deep love of small spaces, so I am looking forward to a secluded sleep tonight. This is the lull in the day where we rest our feet, nap if we need to, and go see the town if we have the energy. Tomorrow is a big day, Twenty-seven kilometers in a straight line. It'll be well over 90 degrees. I wore long sleeves today, but I don't think I will be able tomorrow. I brought two white dress shirts, one long sleeve, one short, and these are what I wear during the days on the walk. The most incredible thing so far, considering the dirt of the countryside and the things I've been eating, is that I haven't dropped any large and dark greasy food items on either shirt, or stained them with the terracotta dirt on the trail. Everyone else is wearing cutting edge athletic fabrics and hiking pants (or pajamas) and I go with my white collar and long blue jeans. The joke is made that I'm the best dressed peregrino on the Camino. It's a small kitchen tonight, and many pilgrims under this roof. We won't make any new friends if we are up until eleven making supper tonight, as is our custom. We better get started.